Wolf Moon Rising (Beaux Rêve Coven 3)

He had no doubt who was responsible for DiDi’s mishap. Cats rarely ventured this far from the center of the parish for fear of a night hunter’s spotlight. Bobby Sonnier was careless, reckless, and if he’d gotten a whiff of this little blonde chatte, it was going to be hell keeping him away while she waited for her car to be repaired.

Add another worry to the list of things Mason had on his mind.

“I’m sorry to be an inconvenience,” she said quietly.

“You’re not,” he bit out.

“Sure,” she said, but she didn’t sound sarcastic.

When he turned to gauge her expression, he saw she was still staring, and grinned when he caught her at it. She was bold. Ridiculously unafraid. But then she had no clue she’d entered a lion’s den.

They pulled into Bayou Noir, driving down Main Street, the only street. He signaled to turn, even though there wasn’t a single other motorist on the road. Light blazed from the motel office. The neon sign above the door announced “Vacancy”—in two days that would change whether or not any rooms were available to let.

They climbed out of the car. She entered the office while he waited outside, watching her and growing more curious by the minute. She gave the clerk that same avid stare, signed for a room, and received the key.

So her interest hadn’t been for him alone. He felt a niggle of disappointment but reminded himself that fact was just as well.

When she returned, she held up the key and smiled. “All set.”

“I’ll get your case,” he mumbled.

He carried it through the door of her room and gazed around, thinking the shabby surroundings couldn’t be what she was used to. But she didn’t turn up her nose. The room was clean however thin the carpeting or natty the bedspread.

He placed the case on the bed and turned to leave, but he hadn’t realized she stood so close behind him.

They bumped, and he reached down to clasp her hips to steady her. He should have dropped his hands the moment she looked up, but he couldn’t.

Again, that same unwanted attraction held him as he stared into her blue eyes.

Color flooded her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “Thanks for everything,” she whispered.

His thumbs smoothed up and down on her hips bones. She was slender but sturdy. He liked her height. Her head would rest over his heart if he pulled her closer.

She cleared her throat.

He took the hint, dropping his hands. He stepped around her, embarrassed now that he’d betrayed his interest.

“Sheriff?”

“Mason,” he ground out, although he questioned why he wanted to be on a first-name basis.

“Mason, is there anywhere around here to get a bite to eat?”

He bit back a curse. That he wanted to get as far away from her as possible wasn’t her fault. “Grab your purse. I’ll take you to the LeChat. It’s the only restaurant. But noisy. It’s honkytonk, too.”

“That’d be fine,” she said, breathlessly. “I’d like to take in a bit of the local flavor, seeing as how I might be here a while.”

He forced his mouth into a faint grin. “We’ll see about gettin’ you back on the road tomorrow.”

“No hurry. I’m not travelling much farther anyway.”

Something about the way she said it, or perhaps because she looked away for once, alerted him he wouldn’t like what she said. He lifted an eyebrow.

She cleared her throat. “I inherited property nearby. I was on my way there when I ran off the road.”

“Where exactly are you headed?”

“The Gauthier House. I guess it goes by that name?”