Page 24 of Remington’s Mate

Now he was just messing with her—she could tell by the crinkles around his eyes. “I’m the same age as you, dickhead.”

Someone walked by their booth and stopped, checking their phone. Colt moved closer, playing with one of the curls cascading down her shoulder.

“Are you?” he murmured. “But then, I’m a prodigy. Not everyone has my brains, looks and talent.”

“Or your ego,” she said into his ear, biting on his earlobe. Harder than necessary.

“Or that.” The smile reached his lips. “I like bitey women, by the way.”

He really was hotter than fuck. Maybe it was a leopard thing. Colt trailed a finger down her shoulder. “If you ever want to take advantage of my vast experience, I could teach you everything I know.”

Oh, come on. Luckily the stupid bystander walked away just then, so Jaeda could move away from him and roll her eyes. “Seriously? Do women really fall for that? I remember now why I never liked you.”

He grinned. “You don’t like us because of that time when we were fourteen and my brother and I stole your and Michelangela’s underwear, and ran it up the flagpole outside the community center at Silverlake.”

Yes they had. She’d been so embarrassed, she’d wanted to kill them. “Yep, that’s the reason. And all the other stupid shit you used to do.”

He didn’t seem at all sorry—he just smiled wickedly. “I’m much nicer now. I’ve learned more about women, too—like, now I wait for them to ask before I… rip off… their underwear.” He stroked her shoulder again. “So just say the word, and I can show you how it’s done.”

She ignored the tingles rippling down to her lady parts, because he was a mated man. Colt McCall needed to learn to mind his manners—and that, shifter or not, Jaeda Monroe was not a woman to be messed with.

“You could try.” She pulled her straws out of her whiskey sour and slowly licked them off, gazing into his eyes. “I might not have claws to teach you a lesson with, but I have knives hidden in places you would not believe.”

A sexy smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I’d give a lot to see that.”

In half a second, she flicked one of those knives out of her sleeve and barely pricked the back of his hand where it lay on the table. “Quit flirting with me, Colton McCall. You’re mated. Although I guess, since you’re still coming on to other women, the rumors of it being a true mating were greatly exaggerated.”

His eyes went wide with shock. Like he’d forgotten about his mate, the douchebag.

He said, “Fuck. I forgot you didn’t know.”

“What?”

“Colt got stuck in a blizzard in Colorado, and couldn’t make the meeting. I’m Remy.”

Chapter 10

Remy watched Jaeda’s mouth drop open—and then her eyes narrowed to that slitty-eyed look that did not bode well for the recipient.

He was a fucking idiot. He’d forgotten he was supposed to be Colt—and he’d done it in the middle of a mission.

We’re lucky she is not an enemy, his owl said. She might have eviscerated us by now. He paused. She’s not an enemy, is she?

He sounded dubious—but then, owls had a tendency to think everyone was an enemy. Especially if they weren’t an owl. And if they were about to stick a knife through your hand.

She’s a friend, he told the owl. Probably? She still might try to eviscerate us, though.

Friends do that?

You should know. You’d eviscerate anyone, given the chance.

Possibly not her, his owl said thoughtfully. She is fierce. If Remy didn’t know better, he’d think the owl actually approved of Jaeda.

Jaeda was still staring at him, her eyes narrowed. “Can you prove you’re Remy?”

Um. “If I take my pants off?” Oops. Wrong thing to say—the tip of the knife broke the skin on the back of his hand. A tiny bead of blood welled up.

Jaeda raised her eyebrows. “What, do you two have your names tattooed on your dicks in case you forget who’s who?”