Terry Spear - A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing

Finn heard the oven door open and assumed Meara was either removing the chicken or checking on it, but it couldn’t have cooked long enough. She let out an exasperated sigh and turned her ire on Finn as he joined her in the kitchen. She still had the phone to her ear. Finn was right about the food, though. The chicken was only partially cooked—still pink and inedible.

“We can take it with us or finish baking it, then go,” he offered, in an attempt to appease her somewhat. But at this point, Joe Matheson wasn’t eating a bite of it.

She gave him an annoyed look, closed the oven door, and said over the phone, “Chris, I’m doing this. I’ll be perfectly safe in Finn’s hands.”

Finn couldn’t stop the sinful way he was thinking about that remark or the calculated smile he cast her.

She shook her head at Finn and said to Chris, “Just have one of the guys stay at my place to manage the resort. I’d appreciate it. Bye.”

She ended the connection and scowled at Finn. “All right?”

He smiled. He couldn’t help himself. When she was riled, Meara was even more striking, her color high and becoming.

“I’ll get the ice chest and whatever else we might need.” He headed for the garage.

“Don’t tell me you know where my ice chest is.”

“In the garage. When I searched the place earlier, it was hard to miss.”

“Anything else you felt you needed to explore?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, and he couldn’t contain the slow, lazy smile curving his lips. “Ask me later, and I’d be happy to answer your question. Maybe even demonstrate.”

Rourke Thornburg loved reporting the news when there was something interesting to report. In the news business, no news was not good news. But being a recently turned werewolf with Hunter Greymere’s pack had its drawbacks. The pack wouldn’t let him dig too deeply into a situation that could be considered newsworthy because they didn’t want him getting that kind of attention. What if he shifted unexpectedly in the middle of a news story and he became the biggest news around?

He could see the headlines now: Werewolf found on the Oregon coast! Will Bigfoot be located next?

Some pack member was always following him around. That wouldn’t have been so bad if the pack member had been a woman, but since there were fewer of them in Hunter’s pack and most were mated, he was stuck nearly always being escorted by a male wolf.

Today, Chris Tarleton was sitting across the desk from him at the newspaper office, reading yesterday’s paper and shaking his head. Chris was tall and strawberry blond, and Rourke had been told he was a red wolf, rather than a gray. In the wolf world, that meant he would be a smaller wolf. But in the werewolf world, the guy was just as lanky in wolf form as he was in human form. He was quiet most of the time. He preferred the quiet. Didn’t care to chitchat. But he also didn’t seem to care much for Rourke. Not for his occupation as a dealer in news nor as a newly turned werewolf who had to watch his step.

Rourke had been glad when Chris left to take care of business for a couple of days. He was hoping that the sub-leader would be gone a lot longer, leaving someone else to watch over Rourke, but fat chance of that. Late last night, Chris had come back again.

Chris’s phone rang, startling him out of his reading. He set the paper aside, then answered his phone. “Meara,” he said, sounding more than surprised. “Hell, no.”

Rourke was dying to know what was being said between the two. Even though Hunter had long ago set Chris and Dave up as sub-leaders to watch the pack while he was away on missions, Meara, being his sister and an alpha, was always asked for input on anything that would have warranted Hunter’s attention, had he been available.

But as far as Rourke knew, neither of the sub-leaders could tell her what to do and expect her to do it. Unless she was in agreement.

What was going on? Trying not to attract Chris’s attention, because Rourke was afraid Chris would leave the office if he did, Rourke strained to hear Meara’s voice over the phone. At times, she spoke so loudly that he heard bits and pieces. But nothing much that he could make sense of.

As controlled as his emotions were normally, Chris was livid, his face red and his breathing hard. He was incensed, which made Rourke even more curious about what was happening.

Rourke suspected that Chris had more than casual feelings for Meara. But Meara didn’t seem to notice, and Chris was afraid to pursue it. Or maybe he thought Hunter wouldn’t approve. Rourke liked Meara, but he knew he didn’t stand a chance with her. Not when he was newly turned and she was a royal, having few human roots in her bloodline. She had only tolerated him in the pack, not disliking him but not really accepting him. For whatever reason, Rourke wanted her acceptance and respect. So he was glad Chris didn’t seem to have what it took to get on her good side, either.

“Have you okayed this with Hunter first?” A hint of threat was in Chris’s tone of voice. If she did whatever she planned to do—and Chris was sorely angered about it—Hunter would be furious if she hadn’t discussed it with him first.

That worried Rourke. He hoped Chris was making a big deal out of nothing, but Rourke had never seen him so riled up with Meara before, and that concerned him.

Chris ground his teeth while he waited as she said something further, and then he said, “Damn it, Meara, you can’t leave with him until Hunter okays it.”

A potential mate? She was always looking for one, and now Rourke suspected Chris was so riled because he was still interested in her. As for himself, Rourke wanted a much more subdued woman than Meara. The woman needed someone who could match her fiery personality.

“Damn it to hell,” Chris said, staring at his phone.

Meara had hung up on him.

Chris quickly punched buttons to make a call, and for a moment, Rourke thought he was calling Meara back to try and talk some sense into her, but instead he said, “I need you to run over to Meara’s place and rent the rental units.” He scowled. “Hell, I know that! Don’t you think I would know that? Meara’s going to be gone for a little while. So you have the task of running the resort. Just get out there.” He hung up.

Now that was odd that Meara would give up managing the units, since everyone in the pack knew how much she was looking forward to running them while Hunter was gone. Rumor had it that all the guests for the next two weeks were alpha male bachelors, and she intended to find herself a mate.

After Chris finished his call, he stuck the phone in the pouch at his belt. He cleared his throat, leaned back in the chair, and stared at the floor for a moment as if deep in thought. He must have realized Rourke was watching him because he looked up with an annoyed expression. “You should be glad things are quiet around here for a change.”

It didn’t seem so quiet any longer—at least where Meara was concerned. Rourke sure would like to learn what that was all about. “Quiet doesn’t sell newspapers.”

Chris shrugged. “Make something up.”

Rourke stared at him blankly. “Reporting the news means reporting the truth.”

“Ah hell, that’s a crock of…”

Chris’s cell phone rang, and Rourke wondered, What now?

Chris slipped the phone off his belt. “Yeah?” His eyes narrowed as he shifted his gaze from the floor to Rourke.

What had Rourke done wrong this time? He’d really thought he had this werewolf business down fairly well, but he felt like he was living undercover and he was always afraid he’d blow his cover.

“Yeah.” Chris looked at the floor again. “All right. I’ll ask him. Thanks.” He pocketed the phone and looked grimmer than Rourke had ever seen him.