Two Weddings (and One Near Funeral)

T-8 Days

Mackenzie slammed the front door hard enough to rattle every picture in the apartment. Then, just in case Jackson hadn’t gotten the hint, she opened the door and slammed it again.

He came to the kitchen doorway, a dish towel in his hands. “Am I going to need bail money?”

“Try a shovel.” But just the sight of him took the edge off her temper. She dumped her keys in the bowl next to the door and tossed her bag to the ground. “Alec’s father is a sleaze. If I catch him eyeballing Sera’s chest again, I’m going to break his nose.”

Jackson arched an eyebrow. “Do I need to do it?”

“No.” Sighing, she slipped into his arms and dropped her head to his shoulder. “Sera emasculated him pretty well on her own. Which I’m sure was nice for her independence and all, but I really want to hit someone.”

“Mmm, I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “But won’t it be something if we both make it through this next week without beating the crap out of anyone?”

His familiar touch soothed her longing, but not the irritation prickling just beneath her skin. It had been building for months, but Carmen’s suffering had kindled that itch into a nagging discomfort. “Do all shapeshifters get pissy as they get older, or am I going through some weird cat thing? Because I want to sharpen my claws on both of Alec’s parents, and that’s a little unreasonable.”

“I don’t think anyone finds it unreasonable, Kenzie.” He made a soft noise as he stroked her hair. “They sure are doing their level best to drive our friends nuts.”

“They are.” She drew in a deep breath, and smiled when the scent from the kitchen finally registered. Tomato, herbs, a hint of wine... “I get Italian food?”

Jackson grinned down at her. “I figure you deserve it after the last few days of not punching anyone.”

“Damn right I do.” She rocked up on her toes and brushed her lips over his. “I think I deserve a backrub too. And possibly some sex. The kind that requires wards to keep in the noise.”

He tossed the towel over his shoulder. “You’re going to make me burn dinner.”

Dinner was nice. So was the delicious heat licking over her skin. No magic, no instinct...just old-fashioned lust-coated love. She twisted her fingers and got a good grip on his shirt, then used all of the lovely shapeshifter strength she’d finally mastered to rip open the fabric.

“Dirty,” he murmured approvingly, then dropped his mouth to hers.