Silver Basilisk (Silver Shifters 4)

And she felt great. Okay, a little sore Down South, but otherwise? Considering how enthusiastic they’d been, her body was . . . happy.

She grinned as she opened her eyes, and turned her head. Rigo was awake, sitting up against the pillow, phone in hand. Their eyes met, and he smiled that tender smile that shot liquid fire through her all over again. Well, the smile plus his being shirtless, his hair tousled. Even the stubble on his chin was endearing—a surprise, because on anyone else she loathed that unshaven look.

“Good morning, querida,” he said softly.

“Good morning, cowboy,” she said—and sensed that he was . . . waiting? “Something’s up. Right?”

His smile deepened.

“Lay it on me,” she said as she slid out of bed.

He put aside the ph

one. “Want the news now or later?”

“News?” she said, wincing a little as she straightened up.

His smile turned to concern. “Sore?”

She could sense he was about to apologize, and waved him off. “We’ve been here before, a hundred years and a thousand wrinkles ago, if you remember. And I’ll say what I did after our first time, there’s nothing like practice. I’m just happy the warrantee hasn’t run out on this old bod. As for your news, unless something bad happened to Alejo, I want to get up close and personal with my toothbrush and a hot shower, in that order, before I deal with anything else.”

“Alejo’s fine. Go ahead—” His phone’s text alert bleeped. “Ah, there he is again. Let me see what the latest is, and you can get a full report when you’re ready.”

“Deal.”

She grabbed up some fresh clothes and went into the bathroom. There she made herself civilized in record time. When she emerged, he was frowning slightly over his phone. But he looked up, and smiled. “You look great, preciosa.”

What’s more, he meant it. I could get used to this, she thought. She still was uncertain about the whole mate bond thing. After all, it hadn’t kept him from running the first time. Though she understood why he had.

So. One day at a time.

“You could have joined me in that shower,” she said, dropping a hint as subtle as a buffalo. “Unlike that horrible tin thing back of the diner, this one is big enough for two. And there’s lots of water.”

She loved the way he lit up. “That’s a promise.” But the smile turned quizzical. “First, it’s time for the news: Alejo caught the thief, and is waiting for us now.”

She stopped short. “You’re kidding! Already?”

“Serious. In fact, serious enough that Lance Jackson left Chicago and his big corporate case, and powered down the freeway at five a.m. The text I got just now was to report that he is here, and they’re all waiting for us.”

She eyed him. “Rigo, have you been up all night?”

A quick smile. “Not all of it.”

Her lips parted, but she closed her mouth again, and finished braiding her hair as she thought about the father-son bond. She was still feeling her way into this whole family thing, after so long believing she would forever be alone.

Clearly there was plenty going on. And yet Rigo had chosen to stay by her side instead of rushing off to help Alejo with whatever was going on at the other end.

“Sounds like there’s a lot to hear. Well, I can wait till we’re all together.”

His smile deepened, then it was his turn for a quick shower.

Godiva sat on the bed, pondering the word ‘mates’ again. She still really didn’t know if it was mostly poetic, or something truly magical. This euphoria she felt, this sensitivity to Rigo, was too new. Mates . . . and then she remembered the rest of the Gang of Four. Who she’d last communicated with that day on the terrace.

She knew they had to be thinking about her. She heard the shower turn off in the bathroom, so she quickly texted Bird, Doris, and Jen: Mates. It seems to be a thing. News at eleven.

Ten minutes later, she and Rigo were on their way back to the post office, where apparently Alejo had never left. “At least there’s that Starbucks,” Godiva said, reveling in Rigo’s arm around her. “Let’s fortify ourselves with the elixir of life before we face whatever it is Alejo found out.”

She had come all this way to solve a mystery. And it seemed it was about to be solved. But as they walked together toward the coffee shop, she realized she could have waited a day or even three. Right now the only thing on her mind was Rigo—and about ten thousand questions, more sprouting in her head by the minute.