Awareness, hot and dizzying, ricocheted through her. Yeah, she’d have to be blind not to acknowledge he was a gorgeous, sin-on-stick male, but she’d never really thought of him in a blatantly sexual way before today. Well…mostly not. The fact he was an egotistical, chauvinistic werewolf with a major alpha complex usually made it easy to overlook his limited charms—namely his hot bod.
So what made today different?
Hormones. Wrinkling her nose in self-disgust, she attempted to edge her cart past Dante’s. He stubbornly remained blocking her, and she shot him a glare. “Do you mind? I’d like to finish my shopping.”
His gaze flicked down to her cart. “You plan on staying long?”
She easily read between the lines. “What you mean is will I hound you to death while I’m here, and do you have any prayer of making a quick getaway? The answer is yes and no. Respectively.”
Irritation mixed with resignation in Dante’s dark eyes. “Don’t waste your breath. I have no intention of selling.”
“Would you stop being so bullheaded? Unloading sixty measly acres won’t kill you.” Cripes, the guy owned close to a thousand. How greedy could one person be?
His eyebrows slashed low. “No, but having a shitload of feminist lynchats invading my land will.”
“Is that your problem? You’re afraid of females?” Lilly knew she was needling the big bad wolf, but she couldn’t help herself.
Dante’s lips curled upward, revealing gleaming white incisors. “You’ve got it wrong, baby. I’m all about the ladies.”
The sight of that wicked, predatory grin almost did Lilly in. A tickle started low in her belly, and she grabbed the nearest bottle of black cohosh and wrestled the lid off. Ignoring Dante’s amused gaze, she popped several of the tablets in her mouth and gulped them down dry. She made a face when the god-awful taste didn’t immediately dissipate. “I’ll stop by your house after I drop off my groceries. We can discuss negotiations then.”
He rumbled a low growl. “We’re not negotiating anything.”
“Look, either you deal with me, or the two-hundred-plus lynchats who’ll descend on your property after I make a few well-placed calls.” Lilly cocked an eyebrow in challenge. “Choice is yours.”
A vein visibly throbbed in Dante’s forehead. “Be there by six, damn it.”
Dante slammed the sack of groceries on the kitchen counter, toppling the salt and pepper shakers in the process. He glanced down and caught Chevy’s eager expression. “Boy, you’ve got some nerve begging for treats after the stunt you pulled this morning.”
Chevy’s tail thumped.
“You really have no shame, do ya?” Snorting, Dante pulled the package of jerky from the sack and ripped it open. The loose floorboard outside the kitchen entrance creaked, and he turned as his cousin Shane sauntered inside the room.
“You talking to that mutt again? Think it’s a sign you need a wife.”
A grunt snuck from Dante. “Jesus, you’re as bad as my father with his unsubtle hints regarding Anna Gifford.” Just mentioning her name was enough to give him heartburn. Anna, eldest daughter of the Gifford pack’s leader, would love nothing more than to sink her claws into him and assert her queenly rights as top alpha bitch. He gave Shane a telling look. “Regardless, we both know as long as my father and Anna keep scaring the competition away, no way a female pack member is gonna touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
“The old man’s still trying to weasel the pack merger, eh?”
“Yep. Not gonna happen though. I’d sooner marry Satan’s daughter.” Dante indulged in a wry grimace. “Hell, what am I saying? Anna is Satan.”
“Amen to that.” Shane shook his head before straddling one of the barstools flanking the granite-topped kitchen island. He snagged an apple from the burlwood bowl and polished the fruit with the tail of his shirt. “Weatherman’s predicting a big storm this weekend. Interested in plowing with me and the crew?”
“Damn, I can’t. Got a meeting down state with my distributors first thing Saturday morning.” Morgan’s Wolf Premium Dog Foods was less than a month away from going global. Even while he was ecstatic over the growth of his company, the frequent trips he’d have to make to Ann Arbor were a whole other matter. Morgan’s Ridge was his home. His sanctuary. The one place where his father’s constant demands couldn’t penetrate. Most of the time.
“Your loss,” Shane said, breaking through Dante’s morose thoughts. “There’s nothing like freezing your balls off in subzero temps while shoveling three feet of snow.”
“Always my favorite pastime.” Dante pulled the remaining items from the grocery sack and lined them on the counter. Chevy’s nose nudged dangerously close to the rib eye wrapped inside the butcher paper, and Dante edged the steak toward safety.
“Grilling tonight? Looks like I stopped by just in time.”
“Sorry, no can do.” Dante ripped open the package of oranges and tumbled the fruit into the bowl so they could make neighborly with the apples. “Lilly Prescott is due to show up in less than an hour. Best if you’re outta here before then.” Didn’t need any witnesses if he gave in to his desire to strangle the pain-in-the-ass hellcat.
A strange gurgle popped from Shane. Dante looked up and noticed his cousin gaping at him.
“You’re having dinner with Lilly?”
The suggestion provoked Dante’s humorless laugh. “I’d rather give myself a root canal. Without Novocain.” He tracked Shane’s gaze to the rib eye resting on the counter. “That’s for me and Chevy. Lilly will only be here long enough to state her case for the thousandth time before I send her packing.” Maybe she’d listen this time and stay gone for good. Shit, a guy could hope.
“Why don’t you just sell the land? It’d keep Lilly and the rest of the lynchats off your back.”
Dante scowled. “Whose side you on?”
“Yours, you stubborn jackass.” Shane ducked when Dante lobbed an orange at his head. The fruit rolled on the tiled floor, and Shane lifted from the barstool with a chuckle. “I better scat before you start throwing cantaloupes or something.”
“Good idea.” Dante’s narrowed gaze centered on his cousin’s retreating back.
“Give Lilly a big ole wet kiss for me.” An obnoxious smooching noise shot from Shane.
Gritting his teeth, Dante eyed the bowl of oranges. Lobbing another was tempting—almost tempting as taking Shane up on his suggestion. Bad fucking idea. His lips didn’t need to be anywhere near Lilly’s mouth. Or any other part of her.
His cock stiffened when he recalled in Technicolor detail the one part of her body that’d been foremost in his thoughts for the past three hours. Without exerting much effort, he conjured the image of her wet, glistening pussy.
Jesus, it’d been too long since he’d gotten laid if he was obsessing about Lilly, of all people. Folding the grocery sack, he stalked into the pantry. After depositing the sack in the recycling bin, he grabbed Chevy’s chow bowl and scooped kibble from the bin. He drizzled gravy on top and left Chevy to gobble up the bounty.
The metallic thunk of the dog bowl banging against the baseboard provided a noisy backdrop as Dante stored the rib eye in the fridge and ambled to the woodstove. He ignited a block of fatwood and tossed a couple logs on the firebrick. Soon the earthy scent of wood smoke filled the room. Turning, he caught Chevy watching him with his big head cocked to the side. “Don’t give me that look. The fire’s not for atmosphere. It’s damn cold in here.”
Chevy’s curled lip resembled a mocking sneer. Grumbling beneath his breath at his astute and judgmental dog, Dante dropped in the chair fronting his workstation and booted his laptop. He pulled up the file with his most recent concoction and scanned the ingredient list for Chevy’s Chicken Chow. “What’d you think of the diced carrots I added to the last batch?”