The Wolf Marshal's Pack (U.S. Marshal Shifters 3)

Aria fought hard against a laugh and narrowly won.

“It is,” she agreed.

“Well, you folks let us know if there’s anything more we can do for you. In the meantime, you just duck right under that crime scene tape. Place is all yours.”

They managed to keep themselves under control until Pete Bishop waved them into a parking space and strode out of earshot.

Then Colby said, “Bait and tackle,” and both of them dissolved into tension-ridding laughter.

“I feel like he’s straight out of the Andy Griffith Show,” Aria said.

“I love this town,” Colby said. “Colorful characters top to bottom.”

The laughter really had helped. She was able to follow him into the quiet, dusky shadows of the woods without feeling even a tremor of fear as the sight of the parking lot slowly vanished behind them.

Colby’s legs were much longer than hers, but it wasn’t a struggle to keep up with him. She realized that he was adjusting his stride to match hers, and he was doing it so naturally that she hadn’t even noticed at first.

It wasn’t something she was used to. She’d always accepted that being short meant constantly struggling to catch up to people.

But not with him.

He didn’t feel real. He certainly didn’t feel like any of the guys she had met on her awkward blind dates.

“Are you from around here?”

Colby shook his head. “Beverly Hills.”

Maybe that explained it. Aria had never thought about any actual, real person being from Beverly Hills.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” There was a spark of humor in his eyes when he looked at her. “You know, whenever a baby’s born in Beverly Hills, they’re issued a Chihuahua in a pink jacket, and a random movie star gets assigned as their godparent.”

“I’d heard that,” Aria said solemnly. “I can’t picture you with a Chihuahua, though. You seem like more of a big dog kind of guy.”

“I’m an all-dogs kind of guy.”

“Cats?”

“I like them, they don’t like me.”

She decided to risk a little flirtation after all. It would keep her distracted from getting scared again, at least.

“What’s not to like?”

“Believe me, they find a reason.”

“Maybe they can sense you’re a dog person.”

“That’s probably exactly it,” Colby said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “In a nutshell. Anyway, joking aside, yeah, I’m really from there, but it’s not like I’m secretly on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. My dad used to have a chauffeur business there, that’s all. It’s not all glitz and glamour when you’re helping clean out trashed limos. But he did get me some autographs.”

“Do you still have them?”

“I do.” He looked over at her, and having the full force of his attention made her cheeks grow hot. “I have to get yours, actually, and put it with them.”

Her face was still burning, and she felt like she couldn’t look him in the eye. It was embarrassing to be this inexperienced and awkward at regular adult flirting; she had to be the least smooth woman on the planet.

But maybe she got points for trying, no matter how rusty she was.