Молли Харпер - How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf

“I’m going to put some more traps out by your place. I’ll give you a map and mark them with orange hunter’s tape, but be careful of where you and Oscar walk,” Alan said. I nodded and turned to pour more coffee for Walt. Alan put his hand on mine again and stopped me.

“I’ll be careful, Alan. I promise.” I smiled at him and patted his hand. Alan caught it in his fingers and squeezed.

I looked up and saw Cooper coming through the door. I caught his eye dipping toward our joined hands, and he scowled. I moved my hand behind my back. Cooper sat at the far end of the counter and called out to Evie. When I smiled in greeting, he gave me a single curt nod and trained his eyes on his coffee cup.

Apparently, we were back to not being civil. Great.

“Good morning, Cooper,” I said in a deliberately cheerful tone.

“Morning,” he mumbled. He looked tired again and sort of pouty, which was a strange expression on him.

“I was just telling Alan here about the bear we saw out near my place,” I told him, sending a significant look toward Alan. “It’s a good thing you got me and Oscar into the house before it got too close.”

“Why’d you tell him about that?” Cooper grunted.

“He was just telling me how many wolf tracks he’d seen near my house, and I told him that was nothing, he should have seen the bear.”

Cooper’s eyes locked with mine, sweeping my face in search of . . . what? Suspicion? Anger? Alan started asking Cooper questions I wasn’t prepared to answer about the bear. I’d been too terrified to notice how tall the bear was, any significant markings, whether the bear was tagged. Cooper’s face tensed as he rattled off plausible details, but he kept his eyes trained on mine.

“What exactly were you doing out at Mo’s place?” Alan asked.

Cooper’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling back ever so slightly, showing his even, white teeth. “Just being neighborly.”

Great, that was just vague enough to let Alan assume that we were having torrid monkey sex on my front porch when we were rudely interrupted by the bear.

Alan’s own teeth showed. “Well, it’s nice to hear that people are keeping a close eye on Mo for me.” He slid his hand across the counter and laced his fingers through mine.

I was not an expert in animal behavior, but even I recognized when territory was being marked. Alan might as well have been peeing a circle around my feet. He grinned up at me. Cooper scowled. I arched my eyebrows and pried my fingers gently out of Alan’s.

“I am choking on all the testosterone, so I’ll back away into the kitchen,” I muttered.

When I was at a safe distance, the tension seemed to ebb out of Alan’s face, while Cooper seemed to grow more agitated. He slid off his stool and slapped his baseball cap back onto his head.

“I’ve got to go,” he grumbled.

“What about your order?” Evie called as the front door jangled closed.

“Feed it to Alan,” he huffed.

“What was that about?” Evie asked me, putting aside the list of supplies we would need for our party menu of crab cakes, fancy ham biscuits, and “cheese pies.” (We couldn’t call them mini-quiches, or the male guests wouldn’t eat them.)

“I don’t pretend to understand the male mind, Evie, that one in particular.”

Evie shook her head. “The Amazons had the right idea. Keep men around for procreation only.”

I nodded. “And don’t let them speak.”

IN THE END, I wore the red dress to the Big Freeze party, just to get Evie off my back. And because I’d decided that I wanted to take Alan home with me that night. If anything would get that message across, it was the red dress.

Alan was the right choice, I told my reflection as I painted my mouth a bold poppy color. He was the only choice that made sense. And he couldn’t have communicated his interest any more clearly if he’d used a billboard. Why am I nervous? I wondered, smoothing my hair one last time before I slipped into my parka. Alan was a slow mover, but he was clearly interested. I wasn’t going to be rejected. I’d never been nervous about first-time sexual encounters. I didn’t get nervous about sex, period. I tried to shake off the weird aura of apprehension on the drive over, concentrating on the fun of the party, of flirting, of ending a particularly long sexual dry spell.

When I walked into the Glacier, I was apprehensive for a whole new reason. I felt both over- and underdressed. The men were in ties (with jeans) and the ladies in dresses that had probably been mail-ordered from the JCPenney Sunday Best collection. And then there was Abner, who was wearing an old suit made entirely of forest-green corduroy.

I shrugged out of my coat at the door of the saloon, and people stopped talking.

Awkward.

I gave a nervous little smile and ducked into the kitchen, where I found Evie warming the batches of appetizers I’d made that afternoon.

“I’m going to kill you,” I told her, pulling the little flared hem over my now-conspicuous knees.

“Why, because I insisted that you be pretty?” She smirked, handing me a tray of crab wontons. “You look gorgeous, and you know it. Pretending to be nervous about it is just annoying.”

“I’m the only one showing this much skin!” I hissed. My needle-thin heels clicked impatiently behind her as we put the food on a table set far away from the bustling dance floor that had been set up near an improvised stage.

“Well, I don’t think anybody minds.” She cast a deliberate glance out to the bar, where Cooper had walked in and was talking with Buzz.

Cooper was wearing a light blue button-up shirt that looked as if he threw it in the dryer for a few minutes rather than iron it. His shaggy hair was slicked back. He was staring intently at his beer and trying to ignore Lynette, who seemed to be pulling on his arm and asking him to dance. Buzz looked up at Evie and elbowed Cooper. Cooper looked at me and nearly lost his grip on his bottle.

That was the kind of reaction a girl is looking for when she straps herself into support garments. It was too bad it came from Cooper.

“Well, I see someone doesn’t mind that you dressed up,” Evie said.

“I’m putting my coat back on,” I told her.

“Now, that would be a shame.”

I turned to find Alan standing in front of me. He was wearing a black suit jacket over a pristine white Oxford shirt and jeans. Given the way he swaggered up to me, I think he might have had a couple of beers in him. I smiled, giving him the slightest of eyelash flutters as he held out his hand and pulled me to the dance floor.

Buzz had hired a band from Burnee to come in and play a mix of country-western and classic rock. The current selection, a gruffer version of “Brown Eyed Girl,” had Alan spinning me fast toward the center of the crowd.

“Have I mentioned that you’re the prettiest girl in the room?” he asked over the peppy guitar riff.

I blushed. I couldn’t help it. I was all girled up in my little red dress, and he complimented me. A blushing response was practically coded in my feminine chromosomes. “No.”

“Well, I will.”

I laughed, dipping my head and bumping it against Alan’s shoulder. He chuckled and ran a hand along the bare skin of my arms. I pursed my lips, waiting for a reaction, a shiver, a quiver. Hell, I would have settled for a twitch. But Alan’s touch didn’t give me any response besides a warm rush of affection. My brows creased. I deliberately splayed my fingers across the back of Alan’s neck, stroking the smooth skin there. Alan’s eyes warmed, and his head tipped toward mine. I felt nothing beyond that vague impression of approaching disaster. I gritted my teeth. Why weren’t my stupid hormones working right?