Feral Moon by Sherri A Wingler

Author:Sherri A Wingler [Wingler, Sherri A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

Harlow

I could only nod towards the bar as a sick feeling settled into the pit of my stomach. The steak was suddenly tasteless. I’d thought there was more time, but clearly, I was wrong. Otherwise, my father’s favorite henchman wouldn’t be sauntering toward our table carrying a tray full of shot glasses, a dish of lime slices, and a salt shaker. People hurried to get out of his way before he steamrolled overtop of them.

Bishop put the drinks down on our table and sank down next to me, uninvited. I scooted as close to the wall as I could get. The sheer bulk of the guy was enough to take up well over half the bench seat. Though I had to give him credit, he wasn’t afraid of my skin, even knowing what I could do to him if he got too close. I pulled my glass out of the way and snatched up both dinner plates as he pushed his tray towards the center of the table.

“Feeling better, Wolfe?” His voice rumbled out with seeming good humor. Like him popping up uninvited was a welcome occurrence.

Grey eyed him coolly as I found a clear spot on the table to set the plates down. “I feel fan-fucking-tastic. Do you want to explain what you’re doing here?” He gave every appearance of outward calm, but he sat up straighter, immediately going on point. It didn’t take feral senses to know stuff was about to get broken.

Bishop didn’t seem put off in the slightest. A slow grin lit up his dark eyes, like he was looking forward to it. “Would you believe I made it to the state line and decided to stay for a while? Lots of tourist traps in this state. I haven’t been sight-seeing in years.”

“Nope. I wouldn’t believe that bullshit if you were sitting on a stack of bibles holding a preacher’s hand.”

The big guy laughed at the mental picture Grey painted. “You’re a funny fucker. Must be why I’ve missed having you around.” The bench creaked ominously under our combined weight when Bishop leaned back to make himself more comfortable. It wouldn’t have surprised me if the whole thing had gone belly up and collapsed in a pile of splinters beneath us. “Miss Dyer,” he greeted me, as if suddenly remembering his manners and my presence at his side.

My nose wrinkled in distaste. “It’s Hayes, remember? Dyer is my father’s name, not mine.”

His head tilted slowly as he considered me. “I stand corrected. Miss Hayes, then.”

“What do you want, Gabriel?” Grey got his attention off me real fast. Which I have to admit, I appreciated. There was something about the guy, like he could see right to someone’s weak spot and he wouldn’t hesitate to go for it, given half a chance. There was a reason Mason hired him, given his obvious distaste of all things feral. He always wanted the best of everything, and Bishop would be just that.

The use of his given name seemed to amuse him.

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