~

There is no way in hell that he is going to call me on it, Kat tried to tell herself, but did she really believe that? He’s going to be a gentleman.

“Wrestling with that attraction towards me?” Parker teased, and the smug grin on his lips was almost too much to bear.

So much for being a damn gentleman.

“Listen, Scrappy-Doo,” Kat bit out, and watched as his smile slowly faded, and his eyebrows danced over his eyes once more. “That old saying — don’t count your chickens – well, trust me, I can make it so you never, ever, never rise to the occasion, if you know what I mean, and I think you do, ever — never, again.”

Parker opened his mouth to speak, but the look on her face, the mischief in her eyes, told him that now, more than ever was the time to keep his mouth shut.

Parker didn’t like that idea. He was an alpha after all. But, taking his own counsel would probably make damn good sense when faced with an irate mate.

It wasn’t like his mate hadn’t already zapped him a few times and did he really want to suffer her wrath once more? He was trying to woo her – it was on his to-do list – not miff her off.

 

~

~

 

“Oh no, no, not you, not until I find Paige!” Mel said as she backed away from Grayson.

“I’m going to go with — I don’t understand, but I figured that a natural state of being around a witch,” Grayson offered with a small shrug of his shoulders and the expense of his hands.

“My evil sister just put a devious spell in motion that would end in catastrophe…”

“Which sister, Kat?” Grayson demanded.

“Does it matter?”

“Well, if it’s Paige I’m not so worried,” Grayson offered back.

“And normally I would agree with you,” Mel said, holding up her index finger to silence the beta before he could say another word. “But this time … Not so much.”

“What is she doing?”

“That’s — not important right now,” Mel said, and he noticed the grimace on her face.

“It kind of is…”

“It’s kind of not…”

“It kind of is…”

“It’s kind of not.” Mel wagged her finger at him to silence the man. “Don’t ask again,” she warned.

“But…”

“Seriously?” Mel bit out with frustration. Like she was going to tell her mate that her evil, mean, devious, mischievous sister had spelled a fast mating for them.

Yeah – no. Fat chance.

“And yet…” he tried again.

“Do you trust me?” Mel demanded as she tossed her hands onto her hips and glared up at him expectantly.

“Right now — not so much,” Grayson tossed back.

“Well,” Mel said in an accusing tone. “Isn’t that just peachy?”

“Look…” Grayson started, and he even lifted his hand and tried to silence her with the index finger thing that worked for her.

“How are we supposed to be mates if you don’t trust me?” Obviously, the finger worked for her, but not for him. It was the story of his life, and he could see a pattern emerging with his opinionated mate.

“You’re deflecting…” It was his turn to have an accusing tone.

Of course, she was deflecting — what else was she supposed to do?

“And?”

“You admit it?” He looked a little confused, bless him.

“Well, der. There’s no point in flogging a dead horse.”

Mel folded her arms and waited for his reply. He might have caught on to her little game, but he still seemed to be caught up in it and had forgotten about his previous question.

“Okay — then,” Grayson tried his damnedest to remember what they were arguing about before her admission of guilt. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember.

Perhaps he’d been spelled like the elders too.

“So,” Mel said as she hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going this way.” Without another word she turned on her heels and strolled off.

Grayson stood there for a moment, confused. Then he groaned in annoyance at himself.

“Witches,” he muttered as he started after her.

 

~

~

 

Dusty yanked open the door to the hallway closet and cocked his head to one side as he waited for Paige to blink a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light.

“Did you seriously think you could hide from me…?”

Paige reached out, grabbed hold of his skirt and yanked him inside the closet with her. Then she pulled the door closed and plunged them into darkness.

“If I was hiding from you I would have used magic. Do you sense any?” she hissed in a whisper in his direction.

“So, this was a rouse to get me in the closet with you?”

Paige heard the depth of his voice change, and it wasn’t just his words that rang a few alarm bells within her.

“Don’t flatter…”

“Sweetheart, if closets are your thing…”

“Huh?”

“I’ve got a nice big one in my bedroom…”

“Bedroom!” Paige bit out in surprise. But there was a fresh wave of excitement that washed through her veins at the thought of it. She battered that though down. “What are you, nuts?”

“Says the witch in the closet…”

“Okay, look…”

“Hey, I’m not judging you here…”

“Better not be judging me – your damn wolf licks its own…”

“You’re a witch – things are going to be a little strange…”

“Strange? You don’t say…”

“Nooo, judgement.”

“When they were handing out brains, were you in the toilet or something?” she hissed.

“That’s a little judgy…”

“I do not have a thing for closets…” she hissed out into the darkness, wishing that she could see his face, and knowing that his eyesight meant that he could see hers just fine. She fixed a glare right at him.

“It’s fine, sweetheart. The way I see things is you’re stuck with me. I can handle a little crazy.”

“Crazy? Wait – stuck with you? What does that mean?”

“It means we’re mates…”

“I know we’re mates. Why did you say stuck with you – what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m a shifter…”

“That’s not a deal breaker…”

“I’m – male…”

“Not a deal breaker…”

“Like, male – male. The grunting, the protective streak, the farting…”

“Not in here, you don’t!” she hissed and heard him chuckle. It was deep, warm, and it rumbled around her.

“Smelly socks on the floor, toilet seat up…”

“Retraining is an option…” she said absently.

Dusty chuckled again. He didn’t think that she’d noticed that she was talking as if she was planning their future together.

He liked that. Hell, he’d make a damn effort to pick up his socks, put the seat down on the toilet, and not fart – too much – for her.

He’d dye his wolf pink and dance a jig if she wanted him too. He almost laughed out loud when his beast had a Scooby Doo moment, but he knew his wolf – the beast was already soft for her, just like he was.

Mine…

Dusty reached for her and heard her suck in a breath. He pulled her soft body against his and wrapped her in the warmth of his arms.

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he offered on a low, hungry growl.

“Anything?” she giggled.

He didn’t need to see in the darkness, he could hear the mischief in her voice, and he had to wonder what he just let himself in for.

Maybe he should have used that offer as a bargaining chip somewhere down the line when she was miffed at him later, and she was female, it was a certainty that he’d do something wrong in their life together – probably sooner rather than later.

But he didn’t really care about bargaining chips because his mate was back in his arms where she belonged, and he intended to kiss her senseless – closet or no closet.