John Randolph’s Fish and Game vehicle was bouncing down the one-lane road toward us.
I knew Landry was feeling the weight of acting alpha like he’d never felt it before, and in this instance, it was heavily at odds with our need to claim our mate.
It seemed we couldn’t catch a break.
Landry drove off on the side of the road to make room for John to pass.
Of course, he didn’t. John pulled up alongside and rolled down his window, gaping at Caitlyn sitting between the two of us like a driver taking in a car accident on the side of the road.
Landry tipped his hat but didn’t roll down his window, indicating he had no wish to start a conversation, but John didn’t pull forward.
Of course he didn’t.
“Fuck,” Landry muttered and gave in, rolling down his window, too.
“That’s the guy who reported your car to my brother,” I murmured to Caitlyn, because this could get awkward, fast.
John leaned his arm on the car door and craned his neck out, making no secret of his perusal of our female.
A low growl started up in my throat, which wasn’t like me. I wasn’t alpha. I wasn’t anywhere near alpha of the pack. But it seemed I was willing to tussle with any male looking at my unmarked mate.
Landry shot me a warning look and I managed to stifle the sound, but not before Caitlyn turned to me, wide-eyed.
“Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “Allergies.”
“How’s it going?” John started the conversation in the slow, small-town way of many conversations with old-timers in the pack.
I could sense Landry’s impatience.
“What’s up?” he snapped.
“I saw a strange car parked—”
Landry nodded. “Yep. I already talked to Gib about it. It belongs to Caitlyn, here. She’s our guest.”
Caitlyn lifted a hand in a friendly wave, leaning forward to send John a smile.
I had to clear the growl from my throat again.
“Oh?” John wouldn’t take the hint and move the fuck on. Another drawback of small-town pack life. Everyone’s business was everyone’s business. Or so they thought.
“Yeah. She’s a wolf biologist,” Landry admitted.
Fuck. I was hoping we could avoid that little fact, at least for now. But I supposed we’d have to tell the pack sooner or later. Caitlyn was our mate. Our human mate, who knew nothing about shifters, much less the Two Marks species that mated in pairs. We had our hands full just figuring out how to make a human fall in love and want to stay and mate two males. But when her somewhat unfortunate profession was added, it doubled our difficulties. We had to balance a responsibility to our pack and species with the singular urge to claim, keep, and protect our mate.
And it was starting right now. John might not be a busybody, but he certainly spent time flapping his gums. His bushy salt and pepper brows slammed down. “Gibson already told her there’d be no wolf tagging on this property.”
Ugh. Of course Gib had talked to John about it. As a Fish and Game employee, he’d have told John to keep a look out for her at the same time he assigned me to go and sniff around in Granger.
Landry’s back stiffened because while it was smart for Gib to ensure everyone was looking out for the pack, it made it seem as if Landry couldn’t do his job as alpha.
“I know that,” Landry said, his words slow and even. “But Wade and I made a different decision.”
It took John a moment. He had his mouth open like he was about to continue his argument, when the particular emphasis on the words Wade and I must have set in. John should have remembered we were scent-matches.
He looked at the three of us differently now. “You and Wade. Together?”
Good. He was figuring it out.
“That’s right.”
I couldn’t see anything but the back of Landry’s head, but John’s gaze was locked onto Landry’s face, and whatever he read there made him sit back in his truck.
He sighed and looked more resigned than happy for us. “Well, all right. If she’s with you, I guess it’s safe enough.”
“That’s right,” Landry repeated.
John rolled up his window and pressed the gas, rolling his truck slowly past us. Still, a spray of dirt kicked up.
“Jeez,” Caitlyn muttered as Landry pulled back onto the bumpy road. “You guys weren’t kidding about people being protective around here.”
“Sorry about that,” I offered, setting my hand on her thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. Then I left it there because it felt right. I silently made a vow to make sure the next time she met someone from our community, they would be warm and welcoming. Of course, I had no idea how I was going to ensure that, but it needed to happen.
Having Caitlyn think West Springs was a weird religious cult wasn’t going to help our cause.