“Not at all,” she said. “In fact, I was going to mention that I need to get out of this dress.”
“I could help you with that, if you need a hand,” Max said before he could stop himself.
Lana gave him an appraising look, her lips curving. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I can manage…just this once. Why don’t you pick me up at my parents’ house? That’s where I’m staying while I’m in town. I can be ready to go in forty minutes.”
Max didn’t like the sound of that. If she was staying at her parents’ house while she was in Dallas, that meant she didn’t live here and was only visiting. Crap, dude, slow down and take this one step at a time. They hadn’t even gone on a date yet and he was already worrying about the future.
“That works for me,” he said. “Let me get the address from you.”
He was just reaching for his phone when one of his teammates—Diego, he thought—cleared his throat. Crap, he’d totally forgotten they were standing there. Turning, he quickly made introductions.
While Lana typed her address into his phone, Brandy glanced at the grocery list on the table, her eyes widening.
“You must be feeding an army with all that stuff,” she remarked.
Diego flashed her a grin. “Just us and the rest of our team. We’re having a party tonight out at the SWAT compound with some of our friends.”
Brandy returned his smile. “Is that right?”
Max would be the first to admit he didn’t know a whole hell of a lot about this kind of stuff, but there definitely seemed to be some sparks between Lana’s friend and Diego.
“I sent myself a text so I’d have your number,” Lana said, handing Max his phone. “See you in forty minutes? Actually, better make it an hour. I have to drop Brandy off at her place on the way.”
Brandy shook her head, never taking her eyes off Diego. “I think I’m good, Lana. If you guys don’t mind me crashing your party?”
“Not at all,” Diego said, his grin broadening.
Brandy licked her lips. “Let me make a quick run to the ladies’ room and I’ll be ready to go.”
Lana looked at Max. “So, forty minutes?”
He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
As Lana walked away, Max had a hard time figuring out where to look—her sexy legs or her equally sexy butt. Both were amazing. Only when she’d completely disappeared from sight did he turn back to the guys to find them grinning at him.
“What?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” Brooks said. “I’m guessing you’re not going to make it to the cookout tonight, huh?”
Like Brooks even needed to ask. “What do you think of Lana? She smells like some kind of beta, right?”
Brook shrugged. “She definitely smells like some kind of werewolf, but the scent is faint. I wouldn’t have picked it up if she wasn’t standing right in front of me.” He eyed Max thoughtfully. “I’m surprised you were able to pick it up from across the room. You don’t have the greatest of noses.”
“Maybe it’s because she’s The One for Max,” Zane, the Pack’s one and only werewolf of London, pointed out.
“Maybe,” Max said noncommittally.
If Zane expected him to deny it, he was going to be disappointed. The idea of every werewolf having one perfect soul mate for him, or her, wasn’t a big deal to Max. None of the guys in the Pack who’d already met their one-in-a-billion significant other were complaining, but some of his other pack mates had started wondering if they had a say in any of it.
The legend that there was a woman out there for each of them who would accept them for what they were sounded cool at first. Who didn’t want to meet an awesome woman and be in a relationship that didn’t require you to hide what the hell you really were? But then it started happening over and over again, against all possible odds, and after a while, it seemed like the guys were falling in love whether they were ready for it or not. Hell, for ridiculous reasons of his own, Remy Boudreaux had tried to fight his attraction to his mate, Triana Bellamy, and he’d made himself physically ill from trying to resist her.
While it wasn’t something any of them would admit out loud, Max knew a few of the currently unattached guys in the Pack were scared the same genetic mutation that had turned them into werewolves in the first place was now mating them up with women of its choosing simply to make the Pack stronger for what everyone assumed was a coming war with the hunters.
If there was some kind of undeniable force out there pairing them up with the first suitable woman who came along, Max could understand why they might be freaked out. No one wanted to think their free will was being stripped away and replaced by pack instinct. But the whole idea of finding that one perfect woman he was meant to be with had never worried him, which was probably why he’d been one of the first werewolves in the Pack to embrace the idea of finding a soul mate.
Of course, if he was being honest with himself, he’d admit it was because he never truly thought it could happen to him. After all the crap that had happened with his old man, he knew he was a little messed up. What woman would want to deal with all his baggage?
But maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe Lana was The One for him. It was an appealing—and scary—thought.
