SHE’S OURS.
Okay, first of all, I tell him,she is a woman with her own mind.
She can have her own mind, but she’s still ours,he objects.
I know how this will go, so for now, I mentally shove him back into the metaphysical time-out corner where Shifter halves are supposed to wait quietly, calm the hell down.
He growls at me.Loudly.In my own head.
But then, he goes quiet.
I’ll take the small win.
I scrub a hand down my face and sigh, one eye fixed on the back door of the house, waiting for her to finish settling in before she rejoins me.
We’ve got a town tour to finish.
City Hall, the school—which handles everything from preschool to senior year under one ancient roof—the post office, library, and a few other key places I’m required to pretend are functional.
“Sheriff!”Delilah’s voice cuts in from beside me.
I blink.She’s holding the station’s cordless phone and waving like she’s signaling an aircraft.
Her Fox Shifter ears are twitching, which usually means we’ve got a situation.
“What?!”I snap.
She flinches, and I immediately grimace.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
That bark wasn’t for her.
It was for me.
Because even though she said about an hour, it’s only been twenty minutes and here she is.
Agent DiNapoli just stepped outside.
And holy hell.
I can’t decide if I should drop to my knees and thank the Fates or curse them for trying to ruin me.
She’s changed out of her city slicker clothes, and the result?
It’s—holy fucking shit.
Megan walks out of the house like a goddamn movie scene—wearing skintight blue jeans, a white V-neck that hugs her curves like it was made for her, and the same black combat boots she wore earlier.
I have never—ever—found combat boots sexy.I mean, who has?
But on her?They are definitely that.
Fuck yeah.
My chest seizes.Air gets tight.
All I can think is I want to see her wearing that every damn day.
