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“That’s a shame.” He was so unfazed I thought perhaps he hadn’t heard me. “Anyone here needing help besides yourself?”
“The cats. Trapped ‘em in the bathroom cabinet.”
“Excellent.” His smile was not reassuring in the slightest. “Would you be so kind as to grant me permission to shift? Swear on my black, little heart, I’ll pay for the cleanup.”
“Do what you’ve gotta do. I’d rather cry over something in pieces than be the something in pieces.”
“Would’ve turned already but werewolves ain’t designed for domestic living.” Off came the shirt and a white tee underneath. He gestured at the revolver. “Glad I didn’t barge in with my pointy ears on.”
“One in the shoulder,” I said, wiping sweat off my forehead. “I didn’t see if the second hit. It jumped out my window and here we are.”
His head turned toward the porch as if he’d sensed the groan of a rotting step. “Where do you feel safest, Marcy?”
Goosebumps crept up my arms. I pointed to the master.
“Go on ahead. I’ll be right after you.”
Leaning against the railing, I paused. “This is going to sound perverted, but can I watch?”
He patted his abs with an immodest grin. “This view’s nice, but if you find anything past the initial strip sexy, I’d reckon you’re a deviant. One way or another, don’t much mind.”
My face reddened. “You sure?”
“Ready when you are.” He undid his belt and shortly thereafter his jeans and boxers dropped. Toeing his attire to one side, he then scaled the stairs in easy bounds that made things I should not have been looking at bounce. Unashamed, the sheriff stood nude on the top stair while I struggled to focus.
A wretched howl broke the stillness.
I'd lost the panicked dizziness but here it came, roaring back, and my heartbeat neared explosion and I was going to faint into a naked man's arms and this was a disaster.
“Get a grip, Marcy,” I murmured.
“On yourself, not me,” the sheriff added with a grin that calmed me the slightest bit.
“Well, hell,” I said, unable to grasp any other word except another four letter one deeply inappropriate given his current state. “Can’t you bust through clothes?”
“Clothes are expensive,” he replied with a hand on his hip oh so matter-of-factly, but his brow was wrinkled, his attention elsewhere. “Just the one?”
“That I’ve seen.” I passed him the gun and started for the master. At the dresser, I clambered on top and offered him a hand.
With minimal effort, he pushed my barricade aside. “Not a bad thought, if you were fixin’ to keep a toddler at bay.”
“May not stop a werewolf,” I agreed, nodding to my door’s snapped hinges. “Stalled you a few seconds.”
“Werewolf or not, me climbing pantless ain’t a sight anyone need be subjected to.”
I returned the dresser into place with far more effort than he’d expended. “Rest assured, your lack of attire is low on today’s list of memorable moments.”
“What a relief, Miss Davins,” he muttered, flexing his toes, the skin of which, while human in appearance, had thinned to reveal an expanding darkness. The sheriff’s ankle made a terrible cracking sound.
“Marcy,” I corrected, gesturing carefully at him. “I’ve never had a naked man in my bedroom and not referred to him by first name. Except I’m blanking on yours.”
He offered his hand. “Caelan.”
His fingers were hot as an iron and thickly boned. They flexed and released my palm as if he’d forgotten how to hold on. Two of his fingernails had peeled from the nail bed, leaving a cherry smear across my hand.
The scent of decay seeped into the room.
Caelan pushed me toward the master bath.
