Laurel parked and stared through her windshield at the crowd spilling out of Mack’s Brewery. It was
barely dinnertime and not even close to tourist season, but the place crawled with people. No, not
people. Shifters, she realized, as the faces filling the outside eating area came into focus. She’d heard
they liked to hang here. It was how she knew where to find them outside office hours.
And true to the gossip mill, here they all were.
Five men, all of them built and toned and straining against the fabric of their cotton tees with the Blue
Bear Search and Rescue logo printed across the left breast. She knew them all from the DOT meetings
she’d sat in on, had spoken to one or two on the phone even. But she’d never allowed herself this close
to them. Xavier’s rescue earlier today was the one and only run-in she’d had with the Wilde Crew, and
it hadn’t been anything like she’d expected.
She’d walked into that rescue determined to remain professional, in control, and politely aloof. Between
her chilly demeanor and the ridiculous amount of perfume she’d sprayed in the car beforehand, she’d
hoped it would be enough to keep him from sensing her animal. If he’d outed her in front of the rescue
crews, she would have lost it. Thirteen months she’d lived here and managed to keep her animal a
secret. Outing herself now would have devastated her and possibly cost her a job.
But the perfume had worked. He’d grown more and more curt with her, and by the end, she’d sent him
retreating. A funny outcome, considering he’d almost knocked her over with his dominant alpha when
he’d let it rise to the surface. But Laurel couldn’t laugh. Not when she still felt the spark from their
handshake all the way into her bones. And then tingles he’d sent through her middle, straight between
her thighs, with a single look… no, she definitely wasn’t laughing about that.
Xavier Wilde was no laughing matter.
She’d almost prefer never to see him again. When she’d realized she’d missed his signature on the
report, she’d been tempted to delegate it to her assistant, but Laurel was no coward. Besides, if the
men in her office found out about her pushing her duties off on others, she’d never hear the end of it.
Laurel got out of the car and squared her shoulders. In and out, she told herself. Just be quick.
She took the stairs resolutely, bypassing the front entrance and heading straight for the deck. The
noise increased as she got closer, and when she rounded the corner, her breath caught at the sight of
him.
Xavier’s navy shirt was tucked, straining against the muscles underneath and accentuating his big
biceps. His shaggy brown hair was messier than it had been earlier. She remembered because she’d
spent the better part of the day wondering what it would feel like to run her hands through it. As if he’d
sensed her thoughts, Xavier ran a hand through it himself. He leaned back, nodding and grinning at the
man seated across from him. They both raised their glasses and clinked them together in a quick toast.
Laurel watched in fascination as his lips touched the mug and he gulped his beer. Lord, he was
beautiful.
Laurel shook away the thought and gripped the papers in her hand even tighter. She started forward
again.
When she was only a few feet away, Xavier finished draining his glass. He set the empty mug on the
table and his gaze leveled on her. His eyes narrowed fractionally, and again, Laurel stopped in her
tracks.
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