Wolf Moon Rising (Beaux Rêve Coven 3)

Her jaw fell. A man dressed in blue jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt walked in, sweat coating his hard-muscled abdomen, his chest heaving like he’d run for miles.

His hair was thick and long, brushing the tops of his shoulders, and midnight black. Heavy brows shadowed dark eyes. His lips were full, but parted as he drew in deep breaths, giving her glimpses of even white teeth. The man was tall, although not as tall as the lawman at her table. He was well-built, maybe not as thickly muscled as her companion, but…perfect.

His gaze swept the room and landed on her, pausing, then scrolled down her frame.

Pulse racing, she shivered. She’d never been given a look like that. Like a man who wanted to eat her alive and savor the meal. Her mouth went dry, and she snapped her head around to stare at the table in front of her. For the first time in a long time, she was rattled by the appearance of a man.

Where Sheriff Breaux made her want to dig deep into his psyche, this man oozed eroticism, made her wish for a night spent in cool sheets rubbing on his slick skin.

Footsteps approached her table, and she lifted her gaze to Mason, who stared steadily at her.

Was he jealous because she’d taken inventory of the other man? Or was he warning her?

Mason tilted back his head. “Bobby, been huntin’?”

Bobby’s full lips pulled away from his perfect white teeth when he smirked. “My quarry got away.”

His head swiveled toward DiDi, and his gaze swept her hair, her mouth, and then slowly rose to lock with hers.

DiDi shifted on her seat, felt heat flood her cheeks, and wondered what about him stripped away her self-possession.

“You new to town?” Unlike Mason’s sexy rasp, Bobby Sonnier’s voice was a deep, rumbling purr.

She wondered if he seduced the pants off every female he met with that honeyed voice. The thought had her stiffening in her chair. She wouldn’t be another easy conquest. Still, all that naked skin slathered in sweat, standing so close she could smell his wild, woodsy scent, unnerved her. “My car ran off the road. Your sheriff rescued me.”

Bobby didn’t look to Mason. His smile curved. “No injuries. C’est bien.”

“Two orders of Andy’s étouffée!”

A plate dropped with a solid thud on the table in front of her, and she jumped.

The bartender glared at Bobby, who smirked, tilted his head to DiDi, then walked away to take a stool in front of the bar.

Finally, she breathed deeply, willing her heart to slow and inhaled the delicious aroma of the food.

“Sorry, ’bout that,” Mason said, staring after the man, a hard glitter in his gaze. “Bobby forgets his manners ’round a pretty girl.”

Yeah, she’d bet money that was jealousy causing him to glare. And he’d called her pretty.

Things were looking up indeed.

Maybe she’d been celibate too long. Her reactions to both men had been powerful. Or maybe it was this place—a closed community, maybe untouched by time. A primitive vibe crackled in the air.

Or perhaps, her overactive imagination was building a little suspense and romance into the overall theme of her story. Based on the past few minutes, she might have the choice of two interesting prospects to end her long drought.

With a smile tipping up the corners of her mouth, she dug into her food, glad she had the long evening ahead, and looked forward to capturing her first impressions of Bayou Noir.