Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
“Let me grab my purse.” I’m not sure where this is headed, but there’s no way I can resist the urge to hang on for the wild ride and find out.
I walk into my bedroom and touch up my lipstick before grabbing my purse. “Gilbert,” I call, wondering where my pain-in-the-rear cat is hiding. Oh well, he’ll have to get his treat when I get home.
When I turn the corner, I come to a dead stop and watch the tall, muscular shifter cuddling my usually freaking antisocial cat. “I see you met Gilbert.”
Oh, man. I swear my ovaries explode as Asher holds Gilbert against his chest while softly crooning to him. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
“He has his moments,” I grumble, remembering my naked tumble out the window. Of course, that little incident brought the shifter into my life, so the jury is still out on whether it’s a good thing or not.
“I had a nice little chat with him.” Asher places my cat on the sofa and gives him one more little pat on the head. “He’s going to behave from now on.” I’ll believe that when I see it.
“Are you a cat whisperer as well as a shifter?”
“Nope, but my inner bear made sure to let the feline know who’s in charge here. Gilbert isn’t happy with the turn of events, but he knows better than to take on my bear.”
“If that little jerk listens to you more than he listens to me, I’m taking away all his treats.” I glare at my cat, attempting to get my threat through his hard head. We both know it’s an empty threat, but at least I tried.
When Asher bites his lip and smirks, I realize he doesn’t believe me any more than Gilbert does.
An uncomfortable silence fills the space between us as I search for something to say. “So, you’re a bear shifter?” That’s better than some of the things I almost blurted out.
“Yes.” He wraps my shawl around my shoulders and leads me out the door. “A grizzly shifter.” There are different types of bear shifters? My mind is blown. “I’ll explain it all to you.”
When I accepted the position at Honey Pot Hollow Elementary, I read up on shifters and their offspring, attempting to prepare myself for dealing with them, but I’m still a little fuzzy on how to tell a shifter from a human. And I have no clue how to tell the different shifters apart. I’m so out of my depth here, but I can’t resist Asher.
He helps me into the sleek, low-slung sports car and leans over to hook my seatbelt before slipping into the driver’s seat. “I like your car,” I tell him as he slowly drives down the gravel road. “I pictured you more as the truck or SUV kind of guy.”
“Thanks.” He lifts my hand to his lips and places a soft kiss across my knuckles. “I have an SUV, too, but I take this baby out on special occasions.” As his warm lips move over my sensitive skin, I melt into the soft leather seat and barely comprehend what he’s saying.
The young hostess gushes and smiles at Asher, and I have the sudden urge to wipe the floor with her for daring to flirt with my man. Wait a second. My man?
I’m trying to wrap my head around what’s happening to me as she leads us to the dark booth in the very back of the restaurant. “Let me know if I can do anything for you.” She’s leaning her fake boobs too close to Asher, but he ignores her and scoots closer to me.
“I have everything I need right here.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I have the urge to stick my tongue out at the other woman before she slinks away.
When a nice college-age waiter walks over and places glasses of water in front of us, I feel the tension drain from my body and move into Asher’s. “What do you want to drink, little Minx?” He draws me even closer to his muscular body, and I realize I’m about to be in his lap.
“I’ll take a glass of wine.” I automatically order my usual and listen as Asher orders a whiskey.
“How was your day?” Asher asks me once the waiter leaves with our orders.
“It was much better than Monday.” That’s an understatement. None of my students shifted into their bear form during class.
“I’m glad it’s getting better for you,” he tells me and runs his fingers along the exposed skin on my shoulder.
“Uh-huh,” I tell him and reach for the glass of water. After taking a huge gulp, I try again. “The kids are settling in.” There. My voice sounds much stronger. “And the parents are getting into the routine. I had no idea teaching shifter children would be completely different from human kids, but I’m figuring things out.” I barely resist the urge to fan myself as my body temperature spikes, and I wonder if I’m getting a fever. Great. Just what I need is to get sick the first week of school.