The Snow Leopard's Pack (Glacier Leopards 5)

...and the way his eyes seemed to warm when he loo

ked at her, as though there was a gleam of silver flame buried inside that deep, dark gray color...

Lillian had to admit it, at least to herself. She was attracted to Cal. He moved with a noticeable grace that belied his height and impressive build; it was like he knew what every muscle was doing at any moment, and they all worked together in a flowing efficiency that was impossible not to watch.

And the way his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes...

Plus, there was just so much about him that was attractive. He’d welcomed her sister into his—his pack. He’d given her a job at the Park. He clearly cared immensely about Glacier, and also about the people who worked under him there. He took care of himself; the careful severity of his haircut and the crisp creases in his uniform would probably have betrayed his military history even if he hadn’t mentioned it, and Lillian admired any man who took the time to put effort into his appearance.

And he was older than she was—and he was a man, not an overgrown boy. She hadn’t met many men since her divorce, but the ones who were still single at her age or above tended to be the ones who had never grown up, and so never wanted to settle down and take responsibility for their lives, get married and have children.

She wondered what had prevented Cal from doing so. It certainly wasn’t desirability.

Although she also had to wonder how much of this was her just comparing Cal to Lew and coming up with all opposites. Was she just happy to find someone as little like her ex-husband as possible?

And if she was, would it be a bad thing?

Besides, Cal wasn’t just a list of characteristics that equated to Not-Lew. He was a good, kind, thoughtful, strong man.

And a shifter.

Lillian took a final deep breath and went out into the kitchen—only to stop short at the sight of the countertops covered in food-prep. Her eyebrows went up. “This is more elaborate than I was expecting.”

Cal glanced over his shoulder and smiled, although it looked kind of...embarrassed? Yes, there was that slight pink flush creeping up his neck. Lillian was surprised to realize she recognized it already—and found it endearing as all get-out.

“I like to cook,” he said simply. “I thought when I got this place that I’d barely be here, always out in the Park, but it turns out that even when you work as much as I do, you spend some hours at home with nothing to do. So I learned how to cook. Turns out it’s not as difficult as a lot of lazy husbands probably think it is.”

“That’s the truth,” Lillian muttered. “Can I help at all?”

Cal shook his head firmly. “You can sit down and relax.”

“I’ll set the table at least,” she offered.

“No, thank you, I’ll plate it all up out here,” Cal countered, and Lillian finally had no choice but to sit down at the little kitchen table.

Somehow, though, with Cal’s back turned, his attention busy on the food, it became easier than it had been to ask tentatively, “What’s it like, being a shifter?”

Cal’s hands paused in chopping a green pepper, and Lillian hastily said, “I apologize if that’s rude, I didn’t think—”

“No,” Cal said thoughtfully, “it ain’t rude.” The rough grammar caught her by surprise; she wondered if this was his natural way of speaking, and he’d been cleaning himself up around her. She hoped he stopped, if so. At this point, she wasn’t about to judge him harshly for an ‘ain’t’ or two, that was for certain.

“Just,” he continued, “I don’t normally get asked that question.”

“Really?” she said, surprised. “I would’ve thought people would be dying to know.”

“Well, most people outside this town don’t know, remember,” Cal said. “Out in the rest of the world, shifters are just a weird legend no one believes in anymore.”

“Yes, but you’ve lived here a long time now, haven’t you? And if you grew up in another shifter town...”

Cal shook his head. “I’ve lived here ten years. But it’s the first place I ever lived where shifters were fairly well-known. Like, here, most people don’t talk about it, but everyone knows. You grew up knowing, right?”

Lillian nodded. “My parents told Teri and me that shifters were dangerously violent, so I couldn’t say we were knowledgeable, but yes.”

Cal grimaced at that, glancing back at her as the knife paused. “I gotta say, it’s a miracle you and your sister both turned out so darn well. Seems like it should’ve been impossible. I’m more impressed than I can say.”

Lillian shifted position in the chair, uncomfortable. “So you grew up somewhere it wasn’t known at all,” she prompted.

Cal turned back to his chopping. “That’s right. And it wasn’t—well, I’d prefer this.”