I get to the kitchen, Wynter is coming down the stairs wearing these yellow yoga pants and a white crop top sweater that shows off her cute as fuck belly button.
My belly button.
A belly button for my eyes only.
“That sweater is too short,” I grunt out as she screws up her face and comes over to squeeze my cheeks with her fingers before kissing my forced-puckered lips.
“I like it.” She releases my face and twirls around. “Besides, you put your mark on me. Isn’t that enough to keep any other predators away?”
“It’s not enough to keep their eyes away.”
“Pish posh.” She flaps her hand in the air, mimicking my gran. Those two together are going to be the death of me. “Here.” She reaches down and pulls her yoga pants up in an absurd attempt to satisfy me, and I’m not sure if she even realizes how that emphasizes her fucking amazing ass in a way that drives me crazy with pride and jealousy. “How’s that?”
I shake my head as she pokes her tongue out at me.
“Watch it,” I grumble back, but there is no fear in her eyes. I reach over to the back of one of the kitchen chairs and hand her a pink hoodie she had on yesterday. “Tie this around your waist. Humor me, okay?”
She rolls her eyes on a playful huff. “Okay. Only because I don’t need your grizzly coming out and making a bloody scene all over the Badlands.”
With that settled, she hums and dances around the kitchen, slurping down a cup of coffee while I alternate between watching her, trying to keep from bending her over the kitchen table and fucking her into tomorrow, and answering emails and texts on my phone. I have two missed calls from Gran, and one text asking me where I am going to be today.
Which reminds me…
“I’m going to need your phone.”
“Why?” She looks over her shoulder as she washes her mug and puts it back into the empty cabinet.
“I need to install a location tracker.” It sounds perfectly reasonable to me, but from the incredulous look I get from Wynter and the way she fists her hands on her hips, she may not agree.
“Becaaaaaause…why do you need to track me? Am I some endangered species?”
“Because,” I stand up, shoving my phone into my back pocket, “you are mine. Everything about you is my responsibility now. Your safety is at the top of that list. I need to know where you are. I also need you to answer your phone when I call, or text as well—”
I have a long list of things I need, to keep my crazy ass calm about protecting her, but she cuts me off before I can finish.
“Listen, mister.” She pokes a finger toward me and sashays her fine self across the kitchen to grab her backpack and sling it over her shoulder before going into a long diatribe about how she’s an independent woman and doesn’t need me to micro manage her, and so on.
I let her go, scratching my head as she rattles on, knowing by this time tomorrow, I’ll have the tracking app on her phone and her sassy ass will be happy about it.
Or not.
Doesn’t matter, it’s happening regardless.
An hour later, I’ve dropped her at the shop and I’m on the jobsite, finishing the intricate cherry trim on a built-in bookcase.
From the minute I walked in, Wayne and English have been poking my bear and I’m about to start a shifter shit show right here if they don’t let up.
“You’re whipped, man.” Wayne is still going on. “Just admit it. A week ago, you were all, ‘I hope I never find a mate.’ Now, you’re checking your phone and messaging her every fourteen seconds. You’re going to wear the girl out. She’s human, not shifter. I bet you’ve fucked her until she can barely—”
“Hey!” I turn around, ready to throw my hammer into his face. “Don’t you even think about anything to do with her and fucking, you got it? Friend or no friend, I’ll take you out back and let our bears figure it out.”
English busts out laughing from where he’s putting up cabinets in the kitchen.
“Listen to you, Wayne. How long did it take from the time you met Tina until you had a ring on her finger and your last name behind hers? Talk about whipped.”
“Shut up,” Wayne barks. “I’m efficient. I don’t waste time. I also had a baby in her belly the first