Page 109 of Ice Rebel

The man was incorrigible.

“I’m Sloane Winters, although at some point I might change my last name to Kendrick, if this big lug Beck can stop being such an animal.”

It wasn’t as if she’d said anything inappropriate, yet everyone laughed. They certainly didn’t take themselves too seriously.

“And this is Chelsea Black.”

“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Kendrick.”

When Cole introduced me, there was a slight look with his parents that I couldn’t read but almost instantly, Margaret motioned me toward the house. “Please, call me Maggie. Only my husband dares call me Mags. And I promise you, Chelsea, no more formalities. We are actually one big happy family. Aren’t we?”

She was also their cheerleader, every family member agreeing.

“Anyway, make yourself at home,” she continued. “Cole, make sure and get her a drink. Ford, Pat, you’re on grilling duty. Ladies, you can help with the salads.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Georgia answered.

“What about me?” Beck asked.

Maggie shook her head. “Just try not to eat all the hors d’oeuvres.”

Beck grimaced. “I never have any fun.”

Before I followed the group into the house, Cole stopped me, crowding my space so that I’d be forced to suffer the desire spinning through me.

“Are you okay with all this?” His lips were far too close for comfort.

“Ask me in an hour.”

“We won’t stay long and if you’re too uncomfortable, just let me know.”

“And how would I do that?”

He pushed his index finger to his temple. “Just use your mind and I’ll know.”

“Right. Shifters can’t read minds even of their mates. Right?”

As he backed away, keeping his dimpled grin, I had to believe he could. I learned something new about him every day.

* * *

“Don’t ask Chelsea about her thoughts on Die Hard,” Cole blurted out.

In being able to talk freely and tease while enjoying an incredible dinner, I’d never felt so relaxed. “Don’t whine, Cole. I said what I said and I’m always right.”

Sloane whistled. “I agree with her. It is not a Christmas movie.”

“That’s it,” Beck teased. “The engagement is off.”

“Why don’t we talk about how our brother Cole was a scrawny kid,” Ford threw out. “She needs to know all the juicy details about your past.”

“Very funny. I was not a scrawny kid,” Cole insisted as he scooped out another huge helping of homemade potato salad. I’d never seen four guys eat so much in my life.

I could only imagine how much money had been spent on groceries when they’d been growing up.

Ford snorted. “Mom. You need to show Chelsea the picture with the hockey gear on when he was ten. The jersey was a dress.”

“No, Mom. You do not.” Cole snarled at his brother and of course Ford laughed.