Holy shit. Sawyer swallowed hard. He was in trouble with this one. She leaned close to him, allowing him to take in even more of her sweet scent already teasing his senses. And nearly exploded. His wolf, already paying attention, went into full alert and pushed at his skin. Sawyer had to clench his jaw and forcibly concentrate not to reveal something he shouldn't.

Miss Bishop was totally wrong about what he wanted to know though. He could care less about her age or dress size. He had incredible vision and already knew she was the perfect size. Curvy and a little on the thick side were right up his alley.

With her scent still swimming in his head, he had an urge to know what she tasted like too. He glanced at her left hand and breathed a sigh of relief to discover she wore no wedding ring. His wolf might have wanted to do something crazy, like kill someone, if she were taken.

"I guess that's as good a place to start as any, although a bit superficial wouldn't you say? Your age and size mean nothing to me. Although I am curious about why a little girl chose the FBI."

She shrugged. "My father was an agent."

"Ahh. That makes sense then. Every little girl needs a good father as a role model."

Her eyebrows climbed up her forehead as she looked at him with a heavy dose of skepticism. "Have a lot of experience with little girls, do you?" she asked.

"Don't get cheeky, ba—Agent Bishop. I don't just work and live on this island, I consider my neighbors to be my family. And that includes the women I grew up with."

That seemed to get her attention as her expression softened. "Why is that?” she asked. “I mean the neighbors being your family part. What about your real family? Where do they live?"

Sawyer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He should have seen that question coming a mile away. He’d apparently opened the door himself and rolled out the red carpet. It seemed Ms. Bishop had thrown him off his game. He clenched his jaw at the memory he wanted to forget. "My parents used to live here too. Until they were both killed in a car accident." A lie she would never detect.

A soft gasp fell from her lush lips. He knew because he'd been keeping an eye on them practically since they sat down. She often bit at her lower one and it puffed up a bit because of it, making him want to lean forward and lick it. Or maybe bite it for her.

Ugh. He couldn't control his runaway thoughts when it came to this woman. And she kept distracting him.

Lock it down.

"I'm sorry. I should have been more careful. I didn't mean to upset you." The soft brown color of her eyes seemed to turn warmer as she leaned forward and touched his hand. That touch fired his blood, closely followed by a sizzle of electricity that raised the hairs on his arms. Apparently, parents were a soft spot for Agent Bishop. He filed that information away for now and decided to save that tidbit for later.

"I'm not mad and you don't have to be careful with me. I can take it. It was a long time ago and in fact, I'm happy to embrace the memories of my parents. They were good people."

And they were. His life might have been completely different if they still lived. Thanks to the hunters that killed them, he would never know. All information he would never share with an agent of the FBI. He shoved that information at his wolf. He had to stop looking at the woman in front of him as a viable candidate for something more than business. Some business could not ever be mixed with pleasure and this was one of those cases.

"Okay," she answered, withdrawing her hand.

Of course, the wolf whined at the loss of her touch. What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He rarely took interest in the women he spent time with. Why bother now?

"So, then how did you get the scars? Is that from the recent explosion?"

He winced. So much for telling her not to be careful. Although he was pretty sure this was the part where he was supposed to prey on her sympathy and distract her from her main goal.

"Yes. I got caught underneath a ceiling beam when it fell." And that was all the elaboration she would get. There was no need to give her any of the details about his best friend who he considered a brother, Creed's (unclaimed at the time) mate being pregnant and dancing at the club. He certainly didn't need any kind of credit for trying to save her. Any other wolf in the pack would have done the exact same thing in his position. It just happened that he was in the right place at the right time for Dani.

"So you were there when it happened? That’s perfect. Can you walk me through the details of the event?"

He resisted the urge to frown at her questions. Despite knowing this would happen, he would have preferred small talk for a while longer. His wolf hadn’t fully settled from the nightmare this morning and he wasn’t sure reliving it again this soon wouldn’t cause trouble.

"Not much to tell you. It all happened so fast. The explosion rocked through the building and we all pretty much made a run for it. Everything else is kind of a blur."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a notebook with a small pen tucked into the spiral binding. "Do you mind if I take some notes."

He shrugged. "Have at it." Although in reality, he hated that she had to be like this. For a fleeting moment he got the impression there was more to Agent Bishop than her job. For a few minutes, she'd been open to his discussion and the next it was like a switch flipped and she turned all business again.

She opened to a blank page and scribbled something real quick before looking up again.

"Where exactly in the building were you when the explosion happened?" She looked at him with fierce determination in her eyes and her pen poised expectantly over the page. That serious, no nonsense look made him want to kiss her until she forgot. There had to be something more to this woman than her peppering him with questions and making him remember that night.

Still…

He swallowed hard and forced himself to cooperate. Just like Agent Bishop, he had a job to do here.

"I was in the hallway that leads to the back of the building."

Again, she wrote something. "Were you near the offices or the backstage area?"

"Neither. I was headed backstage and about equidistant to both." Since he'd just left Creed out in the parking lot, he'd had Dani on his mind. And since his stubborn pack mate was still keeping his distance from the woman who drove him crazy, Sawyer felt obligated to check in on the human woman on his behalf.

"What were you on your way to do?" Her questions continued while she still had her head bent over the paper taking notes.

"I work security for the club owners. I was on duty that night and wanted to make sure everything was clear in the back."

"Do you often have trouble backstage? Is that why you were checking?"

"I think we're getting ahead of ourselves here, Agent Bishop. How about you answer more of my questions and then we can talk more about yours? I'm not sure I trust you yet." He smiled, despite the pit developing in his stomach. This line of questioning did not bode well for either of them.

She set down her pen and stared up at him. Long seconds ticked by where neither of them spoke. He didn't know what she was trying to accomplish with their latest stare down, but he preferred her like this. There was a certain amount of defiance stamped across her face, but she was smart enough to keep it in check. That was better than when she’d twisted the napkin to tatters only moments ago, making his protective instincts flare to life. She didn't know it, but the more aggression she showed, the more the wolf would fight for control.

Finally, she smiled. "Okaaay. What else would you like to know?"

"Something easy. Your first name." He snagged her pen and held it over his hand, mocking her fixation with her notepad.

"Penelope."

He started to write it on his hand and stopped. "Seriously? That's your real name?"

She sat a little straighter when her back stiffened. "Of course it's my real name. I have no reason to give you a fake one."

Again, he held back the laugh that threatened to break free. Instead he fed her an expression that said he didn't believe her. He really liked it when she got riled.

"Oh my God. Fine." She reached into her suit jacket and pulled out a slim black leather case. "Here. See for yourself."

He took the offering, making sure he made contact with her fingers when he did. Again, that low level of electricity surged up his arm. Made him wonder what would happen if he got a handful of her in his hands. Or if they brushed against each other fully naked.

Whoa.

No.

Absolutely not.

He ordered the wolf to stand down. No thoughts of Penelope Bishop naked and under him were allowed. Ever.

He shook his head, desperately trying to relieve his brain of those images.

He flipped open the case and stared down at her official identification. Spelled out in black and white next to a cute, non-smiling picture of an especially buttoned up version of her was her full legal name, job title and specific location. Special Agent Penelope A. Bishop. Seattle Division.

He closed the wallet and handed it back to her. "Okay Special Agent. Your name is really Penelope. It's cute."

She rolled her eyes and placed her ID back in her jacket. "Great. Just what every woman wants to hear. How cute she is."

"I thought cute was a good thing? I like cute." What the hell? Human women had the strangest hang ups. I'm too fat. Or I'm too skinny. Now apparently being cute was bad too.

Agent Bishop sighed. "I'm not here to be cute or to entertain you, Mr. Black, I have an investigation to run."

Fine. She wanted to get down to business? He could do that too. "Why?" he asked. "We already had the Feds come through here and last I heard there were still no suspects in our case. Has something new developed?"

She shook her head. "I can't divulge any particulars at the moment, but we did and still do consider this an ongoing investigation. I've been asked to come here and provide a fresh perspective. Sometimes the first agent comes through and at the height of the emotional damage of such an event, small details can be missed. He got the first impressions, now it's my job to dig deeper."

"I'm not sure there is much deeper to dig. This island is small and it wasn't tourist season when it happened. As you can imagine with such a tiny community, we tend to notice strangers."

She glanced over his shoulder. "Yes, I noticed. I've been getting the suspicious stare down since I arrived."

"We're more wary now. The person who destroyed our main source of income for most of the island is still at large."

"Yeah, that reminds me. Why aren't you rebuilding yet?"

"No one told you?" Shit. They should have told her all the basics. His job wasn't to inform. Simply confirm what she already knew.

"It doesn't matter what anyone else told me. I'm asking you. I want to hear your answers. Not the party line."

He snorted. "No party here, Special Agent." She did know and she was obviously testing him. "The Diablo is dead. It was great while it lasted, but the residents here are ready to move on to a new chapter."

"Which is?"

"Nothing is decided yet. We'll have an island meeting this spring to discuss our options. Until then, some have taken off island jobs to compensate."

She scrunched her forehead as she processed the information. He wasn't about to get into their crops and the fact they harvested oil from the roots of the Devil's Club plant for various purposes including their brand new island distilled whiskey. Or the fact they'd recently purchased the off island market and pub less than a mile away so they could continue to sell said whiskey to both shifters and humans. She'd know soon enough if she did her homework with the Washington State Liquor and Cannabis board and she certainly looked like the kind of woman who did her homework and then some.

"You're being cagey. Why?" she demanded.

Sawyer laughed. Apparently FBI meant no need for a filter and just get right to the point. "Cagey huh? What makes you think that?"

"Because you answer questions with questions or you repeat what I've already said. If that's the way this relationship is going to go, it is not going to work. I expect more cooperation than that."

He sat back and steepled his fingers in front of his face. Well. Well. Apparently Ms. Special Agent Penelope wasn't going to be an easy pushover like Damien had led him to believe.

"Maybe you should have taken my trust building exercises more seriously,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Hard to believe a big, strong guy like you has trust issues. Or is it you just have issues with women in authority?"

"A big, strong guy like me?" He puffed out his chest. "I can't believe you just tried that on me."

She lifted her hands and shrugged.

He leaned forward and across the table, into her personal space. "I do not need an ego boost, Special Agent Penelope Bishop. I'm pretty comfortable in my skin, even now that it's mangled. And I absolutely don't have a problem with women of authority. I love women. All of them. But especially curvy ones who are also comfortable in their own skin. So let's try again, babe."

She stared at him with a shitload of defiance stamped across her face this time. He watched the muscle in her jaw flex and unflex, waiting for her to blast into him. Unfortunately for him, her cooler head prevailed and she kept her mouth closed. Although closed or open, he still wanted to taste it. In fact, the idea of kissing her senseless suddenly sounded like a great idea.

As the tense silence stretched, Sawyer reluctantly dropped back down into his seat. He clearly needed his head examined if he thought kissing Agent Bishop was a good idea. Humans made great toys and occasionally more, but not the law enforcement variety.

Those kind of humans were strictly off limits. Their pack had too many secrets to keep to take chances like that.

"So what's next then, Agent Bishop?"

After a quick glance around the room, she leaned forward. "How about a change of venue. Maybe somewhere I'm not the main attraction?"

He grinned. "You mean you don't like the whole island gawking at you?"

"How'd you guess?" she laughed.

"Well, Agent Bishop. It's kind of obvious with you looking over my shoulder every thirty seconds. Although, I'm pretty sure wherever we go, you're going to be the main attraction as far as I'm concerned."

She ignored his blatant flirting. "I can't help it. I feel like I'm under a microscope here."

This time he laughed. "That's because you are. You’re an outsider and you're hanging out with a freak like me. I think that makes you a freak by association." Which was of course total bullshit. Being with him meant no one in the pack would bother her. Ever. Without him here, they might have tried to run her off by now. Depending on just how skittish she truly turned out to be.

"Can we go to the scene of the crime together? I'd like to walk around. Get a sense of the area myself."

He bristled at her request. That was the last place he wanted to take her and was half a second away from suggesting his place instead. Except he'd made a promise. A promise he had to keep. And he did like her use of the word ‘together.’ He’d have to find more ways for her to use it.

"Sure," he grumbled, fighting with the wolf yet again. They most certainly were not going back to his place or anywhere else there might be a bed. "Sure, let's go see the depressing burned down building."

"I hear it's going to be removed later this week. This might be my last chance to get a feel for what happened."

He led her out the door and down the sidewalk. They should have taken it down yesterday. Then he wouldn’t have to do this. "If you say so, Agent Bishop."

She suddenly stopped walking. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"What?" he asked.

"That constant use of my title and name. I get the feeling it's not a nice thing."

He almost laughed. "Not nice?" he mocked. "Me?"

She started walking again. "Fine. Be an ass then."

He was an ass and the sooner she realized that the better. If he could push her away now, then later, when the wolf insisted (and he would), she would not be receptive.

"Can I ask you another personal question?" he asked.

She slipped on her sunglasses and sifted her slender fingers through her rich, dark hair. A move he felt right in his dick.

"Sure, if you must."

He smiled, ready to go in for the kill. "What color panties are you wearing?"