Ripper (Hunter #1)(14)

I clutched the towel closer. “You’re tempting me with my own coffee? And who the hell are you?”

I should have been worried about a massive hunk of nonhuman male accosting me outside my bedroom door, but I was too busy staring at him.

“Well, sweetheart, I didn’t bring any of mine.” His eyes roamed the expanse of skin not hidden by the white towel.

I forced myself to back away. The man in front of me was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He had well-worn cowboy boots on his feet. I would have pegged him as late twenties, no more than thirty. He was a big, broad man who stood almost a foot taller than me, which made him roughly six foot four. And he spent a lot of time in a gym.

“I’m not your sweetheart.” I didn’t like the way he made my heart pound.

“You can’t possibly know that,” the man said with a smile in his voice. I looked up, and that smile was on his face as well. His hair was a dark brown and cut way too short. I would bet it was thick and wavy when he grew it out, but his cut was almost military. “We just met so there’s absolutely no way for you to know if you’re my sweetheart or not.”

I snorted, not a pretty sound. “I bet you say that to all the girls you accost coming out of the bathroom.”

“Would it help if I told you there weren’t that many?” He backed off a little, giving me the tiniest bit of space. “Normally, I’m a right bastard with everyone I meet.”

My hand was on the door to my bedroom. All I had to do was turn the knob and slip into the room. He wouldn’t follow me. I stood there, unwilling to leave him just yet. “What makes me so special?”

“Well, you’re my best friend’s sister to start with,” he said.

“You’re Grayson Sloane.” Well, that did it. Jamie’s best friend and part-time partner.

His grin faltered for the first time. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Jamie talks about you all the time.” I quickly relegated any fantasies I was already having to the scrap pile. I wasn’t about to start playing around with my brother’s bestie. I’d tried that with Dan last night and it had gotten me in hot water. “Nice to meet you, Sloane.”

I slipped into the bedroom and shut the door behind me. And I quickly realized that I’d been wrong. He did follow me.

“Dude, privacy.” My towel had been about to hit the floor. I clung to it.

“Do not dude me, Kelsey. Get dressed and I’ll make you breakfast.” Gray was cool as he stood in the doorway, like he often found himself in a strange half naked woman’s bedroom.

“I can find my own breakfast, thank you.” I could feel my face going stubborn.

“Ten minutes, okay?”

“Have you listened to anything I said? I’ll pick up something to eat on my way out.”

“All right, then. Ten minutes.” He smiled like I had politely agreed with him. “See you then, Kelsey. Don’t try sneaking out. I’ll catch you. Do you like your eggs scrambled or fried?”

“I like my eggs in between a biscuit and wrapped in foil so I can eat it while I drive.” No matter how hot he was, he was rapidly getting on my last nerve.

“Scrambled sounds good to me, too,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

I stared for a minute and wondered if the dude had been damaged. In his line of work, it could totally happen. I dressed quickly and used the towel to dry my hair as much as possible. Unfortunately I caught sight of myself in the mirror and then I was a little nauseous again. There was no doubt the girl in the mirror had a rough night. My eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles under them. I was insane to think that whatever Grayson Sloane was up to had anything to do with wanting my glorious body. Because I looked rough. He was probably here to…oh, god. A really horrible thought hit me. I prayed he wasn’t here to do that. I wouldn’t be able to handle the mortification. I shoved my feet into my sneakers and stalked to the kitchen to confront the big guy.

“Are you here to haul me into rehab?”

Sloane stopped turning over the bacon he was frying and laughed. “No. I’m not here to drag you kicking and screaming into some twelve-step program. Jamie and I were practicing at the gun range when Nathan called. I asked Jamie if he minded if I came along. It was easier than dropping me back at my house.”

“Are they planning an intervention?” The thought made me a little sick. I couldn’t imagine a whole bunch of people sitting around begging me not to drink myself to death and sending me to a place where a psychiatrist would ask me why I drink. I would say hey, doc, have you ever seen a werewolf cut down in the prime of life? Ever been responsible for multiple homicides?

And then I would be placed on a 72-hour hold.

No. I wasn’t heading to rehab.

Sloane pulled two pieces of bacon out of the skillet and laid them on the plate that already had eggs and a couple of slices of toast. The smell should have sent me reeling, but my stomach was pretty strong and it grumbled at the thought of my stubbornness costing me the bacon. Healthy appetite doesn’t begin to cover what I have. Luckily, I’ve always had the metabolism to go with it.

“Are they planning an intervention?” Sloane’s deep voice washed over me like a calm, warm rain. That voice was soothing. “Maybe. Nate seems a little freaked out. Jamie seems…encouraged, maybe. He thinks it’s a good thing you’re working again. According to him, you’re talented and you’re wasting your gifts working for insurance companies and angry divorcees.” He handed me the plate and I gave up the fight.