Red Havoc Bad Cat (Red Havoc Panthers Book 3) by T. S. Joyce

Author:T. S. Joyce [Joyce, T. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wicked Willow Press
Published: 2017-04-23T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“Okay, our options are limited,” Barret announced in a business voice as he strode back into the bedroom looking like a tall glass of lemonade on a southern August night.

She was trying to focus on the problem of dinner, but he was sans shirt, wearing only jeans that sat low enough to expose the muscular V-muscles over his hips. Eight. She counted eight abs by twos, and each set was perfectly symmetrical, sitting in the shadow of his perfectly defined pecs and perfectly drawn-up nipples. In this light, from where she sat on his bed cuddling a pillow in her lap, she could see his tattoo clearly.

Her heart sank as she realized what the bird was.

It was a falcon. One like her but with brown feathers with tan stripes, patterned like the Welkin Raiders. There were tattooed marks beneath one of the talons. Small, straight lines neatly placed one after the other. The deaths of his crew? His people? Had he really marked the losses and blows he’d been dealt?

Barret covered the tattoo encircling his shoulder with his hand, and when she dragged her attention to his face, his expression was somber. He shook his head. “I don’t like when you look at that part of me.”

“You mean the most important part? The part that made you the man you are?”

He huffed a humorless laugh, then shook his head hard. “Don’t like it,” he murmured in a strange voice. “Food. I’m gonna get us food. Stop looking, Eden.” His head ticked, a slight jerk to the right, and he murmured, “Fuck.” Stooping, he yanked a shirt off the floor and then pulled it over his head in a rush as he left the room.

She should tell him what she was.

It felt wrong to hide her shifter animal, but now she was scared. Not of Barret, but of losing him. He didn’t even want her to look at his falcon tattoo. How would he react if he knew he’d just slept with one?

Eden wasn’t a part of the falcons. Never had been. Mom had kept her safe and tucked away in Damon’s Mountains. She told her horrible stories about the falcons and their war. Eden had never met her grandfather, or any other falcons other than Mom, but would Barret forgive her for the bird inside of her?

She was too cowardly to find out because she wanted to keep him. And she didn’t care what that said about her. They were growing something big—something important. She would tell him when she was sure he was in this and wouldn’t run.

Eden took one of his oversize T-shirts from the bottom drawer and pulled it on as she padded into the kitchen where he was gathering piles of random food onto a tray—cheese crackers, squeeze cheese, peanut butter, lunch meat, strawberries, blackberries, granola bars, two chocolate chip muffins, one jar of olives, and a jar of raspberry jelly. He shoved a bowl filled with crunched-up chocolate bar pieces into the microwave.

“The meat is on the ground and covered in dirt.

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