“Perfect for a fresh start,” he murmured approvingly, a warm breeze ruffling through his short dark hair.
He’d do everything in his power to help ensure that fresh start led to a stronger, better pack.
He was reaching for a box marked “kitchen” in the back of his truck when an unexpected figure emerged from the house, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.
“Hey,” Larissa said, her tone neutral—and yet somehow still tinged with the undercurrent of their ever-present rivalry.She leaned casually against the doorframe.
“Didn’t expect you here today,” Malcolm said, his eyes narrowing slightly.Larissa’s presence could either be a boon or another hurdle in his quest to strengthen the pack’s bonds.
“Early bird,” she said with a shrug, pushing off from the doorway and moving toward him.
At the same time, they reached for the heaviest of boxes, their movements oddly synchronized.
“Actually,” Malcolm suggested, “let’s get that furniture first.”
“Sure,” Larissa said, easily jumping into the bed of the truck to maneuver a hefty wardrobe when Malcolm popped open the tailgate.Without a word, Malcolm stepped up to help carry it up the walkway and into the house, Larissa moving backward.
Despite himself, Malcolm admired Larissa’s strength and efficiency as she navigated through the narrow hallway.
“Your form’s improved since pack school,” he observed.
“Some of us evolved past brute force,” she replied, adjusting her grip.“Remember when you couldn’t even lift the training weights?”
“I was seven.”He moved to help guide the wardrobe around a corner.“And as I recall, you couldn’t reach the pull-up bar.”
“Until I figured out I could use your head as a step stool.”Their gazes met over the wardrobe, glinting with shared amusement at the memory.
“My nose has never been the same.”
“Poor baby.Want me to kiss it better?”As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Larissa clamped it shut as if to keep from saying more.
Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up.“Careful, Larissa.That almost sounded like flirting.”
Not that she’s ever flirted with me.Malcolm scowled at the thought.
“Tactical distraction,” she said, but her cheeks flushed slightly.“Like when I used to challenge you to races so you’d miss the strategy lessons.”
“Is that what you were doing?And here I thought you just enjoyed watching me run.”
“You wish.”She made her way into the bedroom.“Though, you did provide an excellent example of what not to do.”
“Says the girl who tracked a rabbit straight into a cactus patch our first hunt.”
“Ancient history.”But her lips twitched.“Besides, you followed me in.”
“Someone had to make sure you didn’t get hurt.”
Suddenly, the playful moment was no longer light but instead became…chargedsomehow.Larissa broke eye contact first, setting down the wardrobe in the master bedroom with a thud that echoed off the bare walls as Malcolm tipped his end up and steadied the furniture piece until he could step away from it.
“Good spot?”he asked as he straightened his back, feeling the slight strain of exertion.
“I think it works,” Larissa said.“We can move it later if Sarah doesn’t like it.”She brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.“We should get the rest of the boxes.”
“Always running away,” Malcolm murmured.
“Not running,” she corrected.“A tactical retreat.Remember Ms.Everett’s first lesson?”
“‘A good leader knows when to advance and when to withdraw,’” they quoted in unison, then shared a surprised laugh.
