“It is if everyone talks about how it became a bake sale for the rest of the year,” he laughed.
“It’s her first time organizing a potluck,” Paloma interjected, laughter in her voice. “Cut her some slack.”
Straightening, Jack raised a hand in greeting. “Hey Polly.” His tone lost most of its warmth when he turned his attention to Artem, who watched him with a narrowed-eyed look of cool hostility. “Aždaja.”
“Jack Jr,” the dragon drawled. One huge, leathery wing curved over his mate’s shoulder to drape over her belly.
Antonia watched the interaction with interest for all of a second before aiming her attention where it belonged: reorganizing the buffet table so it looked like there was an actual dinner to be had.
There was bad blood between those two, but not the kind she had any professional or personal investment in. So Antonia artfully arranged her edamame salad next to Jack’s offering and ignored the sounds of Paloma making a hurried excuse to put distance between the two men.
“The hall looks nice,” Jack noted. He leaned his hip against the table and crossed his arms.
Antonia looked around briefly, taking in the silver garlands and large, iridescent moons hung from string that dangled from scotch tape stuck to the ceiling. She’d done her best with the decorations she’d found in the community center’s storage, but no one had ever said she had an eye for that sort of thing.
“Thanks,” she muttered, pulling the lid off the platter.
“Where’s your sister and Isabel?”
Antonia slid him a look out of the corner of her eye. “Where’s your father?”
Jack’s lips pressed thin. “With the pack.”
Shocker.
The Grand Sierra pack wasn’t the most social group she’d ever met, and Jack Sr. was even more reclusive. According to Paloma, he hadn’t been a big fan of the previous healer, and it appeared that had been transferred over to her. The only member who had any interest in her or her clinic was Jack Jr., and she was fairly certainthathad nothing to do with her services.
In her experience, most shifters were incorrigible flirts. She didn’t take Jack’s advances any more seriously than she had from all the shifters who came before him. Or she tried not to, anyway. It was admittedly alittlemore difficult than normal.
“Well, you’ll have to take some cookies home for him,” she replied, handing Jack a paper plate. Just when his fingers curled around the edge, she yanked it back toward her. Leaning in close, she casually offered, “Or I could take them myself and save you the trouble. While I’m there I could give him that check-up he’s been dodging.”
Bending at the waist, Jack whispered, “You don’t need an excuse to come by our territory, dream girl. I’ll give you a tour.”
Smiling, she released the plate. “Oh, I know. Your cousin Joshua offered to take me around last week. I’ll just give him a call, hm?”
Liquid gold flashed in his hazel eyes, but Jack’s easy expression didn’t falter. “Joshua, huh? Interesting.”
“Is it?” she asked breezily. Plopping a store bought sugar cookie shaped to look like a crescent moon onto his plate, she gave him what she hoped was a convincingly nonchalant smile. “Enjoy the potluck, mountain lion.”
Jack brought the cookie to his lips. “With you here? It’d be impossible not to.”
Knowing she had to get away from him quickly to escape the gravitational pull of shifter magnetism, she hurried toward where townspeople clad in fluffy winter coats were streaming through the doors.
Still, she was incapable of letting him have the last word.
Calling over her shoulder, she said, “Oh, and Jack?”
There was a husky note in his voice that made her stomach swoop when he replied, “Yeah, dream girl?”
“Try the salad.”
Empire Estate Celebrates
Syndicate life wasn’tall about death and law-breaking. To make the darkness worth it, there had to be moments of profound release.
And that meant the men of Empire Estate’s security team knew how to party.
Unfortunately.
