A lovely, warm feeling of purely feminine pleasure swept through me. I'd dated before—although not much, given my problem—but never anybody like Jack. When kindness, strength, and integrity came wrapped up in a six-foot, four-inch package of pure muscle, wavy bronze hair, and a face that belonged on the shifter version ofGQmagazine, it was a little hard to believe that a guy like that was dating a small-town pawnshop owner like me.
His phone stopped buzzing, and mine started. I glanced down at the screen to see a picture of the mayor, and I sighed.
"Oh, no."
The mayor, also known as my Aunt Ruby, was almost certainly calling about plans for my birthday party. Since I really didn't want a birthday party this year and was actually thinking about going out of town for a few days, maybe with my best friend Molly, I'd been trying to avoid this conversation.
I should have known better.
"We could pretend we lost our phones," Jack said, his lips quirked up in a smile.
"Sure. That'll work. She'll just send the police after us." Aunt Ruby hadn't quite gotten the message yet that the sheriff's department wasn't her personal law enforcement division, despite a few tactful conversations Susan Gonzalez, the new sheriff, had started with her.
I answered the phone. "Hey, Aunt Ruby. Long time, no see."
An hour and a half, actually, since church. I'd left her chatting with Pastor Nash about the upcoming holiday lights festival. Dead End, being a small town in the South, had more festivals than a tiger had stripes. Not that I'd ever counted Jack's when he was in his tiger form, but it was a lot.
"Where did you run off to? We wanted you to come to lunch," she said.
Before I could answer, I heard the low rumble of Uncle Mike's voice in the background.
"No, I'm not telling her to leave Jack behind. Hush," she said, her voice slightly muffled.
Uncle Mike muttered something about putting an extra steak or six on the grill, and Jack slanted a grin at me. His superior tiger hearing meant nobody had private phone conversations when he was around, a fact that Uncle Mike was well aware of, which meant my uncle was poking at my…tiger.
Nothing new there.
"Tell him I'll bring the steaks and some beer," Jack said, laughter in his voice.
I passed the message along and Uncle Mike suddenly sounded more cheerful in the background.
"He says that would be lovely," Aunt Ruby translated. "I've been too busy with mayor stuff to do much baking, Tess. Do you have any pie you could bring over?"
"I made a pecan and an apple after work last night. I'll stop by my place and pick them up. See you in half an hour. Oh, wait—do you want to talk to Jack?"
"No, why would I need to? You're bringing him, right?"
"Didn't you just call him?"
"No, not me. See you soon."
We hung up, and Jack put his arm around me, pulling me close. "Did I ever tell you you're the perfect woman?"
I could feel my cheeks heat up. "Well, ah…"
"Pecanandapple," he said reverently. "It's like I've died and gone to heaven."
I narrowed my eyes and elbowed him in the rock-hard abs. Perfect woman, my foot. He'd been talking about thepies. "That could be arranged. The dying part."
Jack laughed and pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing down at it and then frowning. "It was Susan."
I could feel my whole body slump. "Oh, no. What now?"
Calls from the sheriff rarely meant good news, and the year we'd just been through had left me with a slight case of PTSD. Too many dead bodies. Body parts. Crazed stalkers. Deranged political officials. Irish mob bosses.
Ghost pirates.
Leprechauns.
