the most neutral thing I could think to offer. He wrapped his big hand around my much smaller one and pulled me into one of those guy hugs. You know, the handshake that turns into a sort of one-shoulder, one-arm hug. But it was unexpected. I went with it, but . . . it would have worked better if there hadn't been two feet of height difference. It was meant to bring me in against his shoulder, but I ended up pressed to the front of his body with my entire head below his chest, so sort of his upper stomach/chest area. God, he was big.
I had enough guy friends that I'd automatically put my arm around him for the hug, like body memory. His much bigger arm was around me, and what was supposed to be a quick, manly, I'm-not-gay hug turned into more. His arm tightened around me, keeping me against his body. My right hand was in his, his arm behind my back, my left arm around his surprisingly slender waist.
The moment his arm tightened, I tensed against him, my mind going over my options. He'd feel me let go with my left arm, so any weapon reaching was going to be telegraphed big-time.
He held me against him, his arm pressing me close. I was tensed, my heart thudding, pulse racing, waiting for him to do something creepy, and then I realized he was holding me. He was just holding me. Of all the things Olaf could have done, that surprised me most. He let go of my right hand and just hugged me. He just held me close. It was so unexpected that I was at a loss, but my right arm was between our bodies, so that did two things to help my comfort level: It let me keep enough distance that we weren't pressed completely against each other, and I could touch the butt of the Smith & Wesson in the shoulder holster. His arms tightened across my back almost too tightly; he let me feel how terribly strong he was. He wasn't shapeshifter strong, but you don't have to be able to bench-press a car to hurt someone. There was enough strength in his grip to let me know that he could hurt me. I wasn't sure if he was doing it on purpose, or was simply that unaccustomed to hugging people.
I erred on the side of caution. I snuggled against him with my left arm and body, making that little wriggling motion that girls and some smaller men make. I was hoping it would distract him from the fact that I was using my right hand to draw the gun from its shoulder holster at the same time.
"You just drew your gun," he said, in that deep voice that matched the big body.
I fought not to tense as I pressed the gun against the side of his body. "Yes."
I felt him bend over me, and then he kissed me on top of the head. Again, so unexpected that I didn't know what to do. I mean I couldn't shoot him for kissing the top of my head and giving me a hug. It was too hysterical. But this new, more tender Olaf puzzled the hell out of me.
"I've held many women in my arms, but you're the first who's managed to draw a weapon."
It was a little hard to be tough talking into his stomach, but having the Smith & Wesson shoved into his side helped. "They didn't understand what you were."
He spoke with his chin resting on my hair. "They understood in the end, Anita."
"But not until it was too late," I said, and I didn't feel silly pushing the gun into the hard muscle of his side. It felt safer.
Edward spoke from behind me. "She will kill you, if you give her a reason."
Olaf rose up enough to look at him more comfortably, but he was still holding me. "I know she will shoot me, if I give her cause."
"Then let her go."
"It is the possibility of danger that makes us both enjoy her, in our own ways."
"You and I do not think of her the same way," Edward said, and his voice was growing colder. I knew that voice. It was headed to the tone he used when he killed.
I wanted to tell Olaf to let me go, but I'd seen him move. He was fast, not shapeshifter fast, but close. I thought I was fast enough to get