for sorting. “Oh my goodness—we need to watch the bagger next time. They put canned goods in with avocados.” I grimace, examining the fruit and seeing deep divots in the dark skins, exposing green flesh. “Who does that?”
“Heathens,” Deek says so seriously from the floor that I burst out laughing.
His powerful frame relaxes, and after a moment of me going back and forth between the cupboards, he slinks over to help me without ever gaining his feet.
It’s too weird for me.
“Deek,” I start.
There’s a knock at the door.
Deek stays low and somehow crosses the distance from the grocery bags at my feet all the way to our entryway in the space of a blink—where he promptly stands tall to answer the door.
He drags it open like the house is on fire and there’s salvation on the other side.
“Who is it?” I ask.
He’s slumping with relief as he reveals another man I know very well. “It’s Finn.”
CHAPTER 7
SUSAN
Finn’s eyes are strange. “Sue,” he says, flashing teeth that look a little too sharp to be mistaken for human. He hands me a bouquet of flowers in a glass vase, colorful raffia ribbon artfully arranged around the lower half of it.
“Oh, wow! Thank you.” I accept them, four million thoughts running through my head, starting with these are pretty, invariably leading to my ex-husband he’d always apologize with flowers, like a couple of lilies and sunflowers were a proper trespass offering after he defiled our marriage bond and this was nice of Finn. But why is he REALLY here?
I set the vase on the counter. The spray of color instantly brightens up the kitchen.
Charlotte peeks her head out of the hallway—and visibly relaxes. “It’s just Finn!” she calls.
Ginny pops her head around the corner too. “Who’s Fi—”
She gapes.
Finn’s gaze is pinned on her. So is his smile—which, if possible, turns on even more charm. “Well, who is this lovely crayture?”
His accent is suddenly so thick, you could frost cupcakes with it. Green ones with shamrock-shaped sprinkles.
Ginny’s jaw drops.
It’s so the accent.
“It’s dangerous to females of all ages,” Deek murmurs to me, prompting me to realize I shared my thought out loud.
Finn tosses me a naughty grin but turns a much more wholesome smile back on Ginny. He takes a step forward and holds out his hand, adding a slight bow as his brows go up in inquiry. “So nice to meet you…?”
Straight out of a playbook from a long-ago era, Ginny floats to him and sets her hand in his.
He drops his face over the back of her hand, and when he turns her limb over to expose her palm—and her bruised wrist—I shoot a look at Deek.
He ducks and turns into a wolf.
“HOLY SHIT!” Ginny shrieks, jerking completely out of Finn’s hold.
It’s one thing to be told that your friend’s family’s borrowed nanny is a werewolf. It’s a whole different thing to see him Change.
“I’ve got the basement door,” Maggie announces, stepping around the grocery bags to give Deek an escape route.
“Wait,” I sigh. “Let me get your clothes before you ruin them.”
The wolf is the picture of shame as he hugs the floor, submissively flattens his ears, and manages to be both limp and tense as I begin to maneuver his limbs out of his church coat, tie, and dress shirt. It’s a process.
With her hand over her heart, Ginny turns a horrified expression on me. “I didn’t mean to swear.”
Fighting the jean’s snap that’s pinched at Deek’s wolven waistline, I pretend to grumble. “You get another pass. But, Ginny, I’m starting to think werewolves have a not-so-good effect on your vocabulary.”
Finn winks at her, making her—and Charlotte’s—eyes widen. Ginny blushes to the roots of her hair. Finn bites his lip and whispers, “Ya need to start deliverin’ all your curses in an Irish accent, m’dear. If you say it Irish, you can practically get away with murder.”
“I bet,” Ginny says dazedly.
Charlotte sighs almost dreamily in agreement.
“So, Finn,” I say slowly. “What brings you here?”
He gives me a very innocent look.
The wolf under my hands whines in apology.
“Hmm.” I pat Deek’s dark, furry head. “Can you roll over?”
This gets him to make eye contact. For a wolf prostrating himself on my floor, it’s awful haughty. He rolls over.
Maggie claps her hands. “Our werewolf can do tricks!” Her delight is ear-splitting.
“Maggs, inside voice,” Ginny calls to her, and Charlotte is nodding. “Yeah.”
I manage to work Deek’s belt and zipper much easier this way and it’s not long before I’m shucking him out