Etienne (The Shifters of Shotgun Row Book 1)(6)

I nodded. Locals and outsiders alike loved furniture and all kinds of things made from scavenged cypress. It was illegal to cut them down, so they relied on us and people like us to find them. Loic made more money than me, digging those things out of the water.

My beast was restless as fuck today. I almost tore Loic’s throat out, and now the only thing he could think about was Tansy. He wanted to be near her for some reason.

And sometimes you just have to do what your animal wants you to do or risk him tearing right out through your abdomen in defiance.

Bastard.

Not even bothering to get back in my car, I walked the rest of the way to Starry Eyes, Star’s pet shop. As I opened the door, a bell on the handle announced my arrival.

Plus, every animal in the place went silent.

Their fear stung my nose. It wasn’t like the fear of an opponent. It was the fear of a lesser being—a weaker creature.

“I asked you not to come in here,” Star mumbled just low enough for only me to hear.

“I’m looking for someone.”

“She’s over there. Looking to buy a fish or a bird. Do what you have to and then leave. My animals are scared shitless.”

“They aren’t scared of you?”

She turned at the opposite corner of the room, walking around. “They know they aren’t my kind of meat.”

“Anything not moving is your kind of meat, Star.”

She laughed a little, still too quiet for human ears. “True. But they don’t know they aren’t for lunch.”

I walked across the shop, trying like hell to be a little incognito and failing. Even over the smell of fear surrounding me, sugar and cinnamon and vanilla made my insides warm.

And I was cold-blooded as fuck.

“What is that sound?” Tansy’s voice pulled me out of the cookie-smell trance.

“What sound?”

“It sounds like some kind of tuba or something? Or someone fluffed.”

“Fluffed?”

“Yeah, you know...farted.” She whispered it like it was a bad word.

“Not sure.”

Star’s voice interrupted me. “Stop calling your mate in my store, gator. Sheriff or no sheriff, get your ass out of here right now.”

Of course, it was low enough for Tansy not to hear, but there was no mistaking the malice in her command.

Tansy turned to me, eyes wide. “Why are you still here?”

“I was just going to make sure you got home okay. Your grandmother asked me to protect—watch out for you.”

Protect was a mate word, and Tansy was not my mate no matter what Star or my dumb-ass beast thought.

“Let’s go outside,” Tansy said in a sugar-laced voice.

I followed her outside. She even let me open the door for her. My shit-eating grin was only erased by the absolute rage on Tansy’s face when she finally turned around outside the pet store.

“You listen and you listen good, ‘plain glazed.’”

Did she just call me by the name of a donut?

“I came down here to live a peaceful life, doing what I love for my grandmother. Just because I’m not from here doesn’t mean I need some meathead sheriff watching out for the little woman. You got it? I take care of my own—my own…”

“Shit. You take care of your own shit.”

“Yes. But I don’t have to be so filthy about it.”

Filthy was my gator’s trigger, and not in the emotionally disturbing way. In the way which made me want to scoop this woman up and lay her down in the nearest nest.

I leaned over, making sure no one heard what I was about to say, namely other shifter ears. “I think deep down, maybe you like to be filthy once in a while, Tansy. In fact, those red heels you’re wearing make me think about it a lot.”

I straightened to my full height. Tansy barely came up to my shoulders. “I’m well aware you can take care of yourself, Tansy. But I keep my promises. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”





Tansy

Infuriating. The man was infuriating to the four-gazillionth degree. What was wrong with him, following me around like a stalker. Sure, he wasn’t creepy like that Bruno dude he worked with, but that didn’t make his following me any less annoying.

Sugar! His ability to fill my belly with a thousand butterflies made it almost worse. With Bruno, I could give a firm, polite decline at every invitation and ignore the looks and comments at work. That was so not the case with my Yeti. Not mine. No. The Yeti. Yeah, that.

With him, my eyes drifted in his direction, unbidden, his voice powerful, all manly and smexy, dripping with power, but not a scary power, a protective one. And sweet apple pie, he smelled yummerific. I wanted to lick him up and down. I wouldn’t, obviously, because he was annoying.

Meemaw was so going to get an earful. Not only did she send me out to a store I’d zero interest in, with no agenda, but she sent me past a freckin’ gator and not a baby, either, one the size of my old apartment.

Stomping back into the store, I kept my focus entirely on the door, or so I tried to project because I could feel his eyes burning a hole in my backside. He needed to keep his eyes to himself. I swung the door open and, before I knew it, I was walking through a ghost. Stinks. They hated that.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, looking up to see a far-too-youthful ghost, who from the looks of it, died during my childhood, donning a shirt decorated with my favorite cartoon character from back then. Poor thing couldn’t have been more than six when she passed. I hated my gift.