The Snow Leopard's Mate (Glacier Leopards 1)

Ali was twenty-six, and more than ready to settle down in her own place. She was tired of living with her brother and sister-in-law in the spare room of their tiny, messy house. But she couldn’t afford to move out on her part-time waitress salary, and there weren’t a lot of better jobs in Prescott.

And the better jobs that did exist sure wouldn’t hire the woman they thought of as Ali Parker, the unreliable flirt.

She only went out when Denise pressured her, these days. It had been years since she’d last gone home with a guy. But once you got a reputation in Prescott, it stuck for life. That was how small towns worked.

So anything that got her out of Prescott, even for a night, was bound to be a good thing.

Right?

“Are you doing the dishes?”

Ali jumped at Molly’s voice.

Paul’s wife stood in the doorway to the kitchen. She looked tired. “I was hoping to start on them before Paul got home, but…” Molly sighed. “I haven’t gotten to it yet.”

Maybe Paul could do some of the dishes himself once in a while, Ali thought. But it was pointless to say it out loud. Trying to guilt her brother into chores never worked.

“I was just starting them,” Ali said.

“Can you think about what we’re making for dinner while you’re at it?”

“I can’t. I’m going out with Denise in an hour.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Of course you are. Have fun with whatever men you meet, I guess.”

Ali flinched at the words. It shouldn’t bother her. People had been saying similar things to her for years. She was used to it, even from Molly and Paul. But it still bothered her how people assumed they knew everything about her. Ali didn’t know why, but today it stung extra-hard.

Ali turned on the tap. It didn’t matter what Molly thought of her night out. She’d go and enjoy herself, and she’d come home from a fun night to a clean kitchen. She nodded firmly, and picked up a pot.

***

Grey Landin stretched hard, hands far above his head, and then down to his feet. It had been a long, hard logging day, coming at the end of a long, hard logging week.

Logging was one of the most dangerous jobs in the country, and this week had proven it. One of their crew, Danny Reed, had gone to the hospital yesterday with a serious leg injury.

Being a bobcat shifter would help Danny’s healing, but that wasn’t always enough. Grey was thinking as many good thoughts as he could; Danny was one of the few tolerable guys on the crew.

They were all shifters, which the company had done on purpose. They were faster, stronger, and more resilient than ordinary workers.

Unfortunately, they were also more volatile, especially in groups.

Today, everyone had been tense as hell, understaffed and ready for a follow-up injury caused by the workers’ excessive twitchiness. Nobody had been hurt, but the worry and stress had taken its toll on them all.

“Look at the kitty stretching his little paws out,” said a voice by Grey’s ear.

He twisted and growled instinctively. Grey got himself under

control again fast, but the damage was done.

“Oh, the kitty’s got claws!” said Matt Finch, laughing.

It was funny. Grey had thought that joining a logging team that was known to employ shifters—known in the underground rumor mill that kept track of these things, anyway—would’ve helped him fit in, for once in his life.

Turned out he’d been wrong. Partly because these guys knew what made him an outsider, instead of just thinking he was a bit strange. He was a snow leopard, and none of them liked cats.

Cats were loners. Shifters who spent more time in groups or packs, like bears, wolves, and smaller animals, didn’t like them much.

It also didn’t help that shifters who’d mostly grown up in the same area—for example, these Colorado mountains—didn’t like shifters who moved in from out of state—for example, Grey—and took a job they thought should’ve gone to one of their buddies.