Beauty and the Werewolf (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) by Kristin Miller Page B

take the painting off the wall. “That you’re going to be the Alpha of the pack.”
    “That’s right.”
    Jasmine unhooked the art and handed it to Jack.
    “Sounds wonderful. I’ve always wanted to visit Ireland.” As Jasmine slid off the bed, she put an arm around Isabelle’s shoulder. “What do you say we talk about it over lunch?”
    “I don’t know,” Jack said, checking his watch. “Now that we have the painting, we should probably get back.”
    “Nonsense.” Isabelle followed Jasmine toward the kitchen. “I wouldn’t mind talking about Ireland, as long as you tell me a little about how you know Jack.”
    Shit.
    “No, we really should—”
    “Oh, I’ll give you all his juicy secrets.” Jasmine beamed, glancing over her shoulder at him as they walked past. “I’ll make cream cheese chicken and grilled asparagus. Does that sound all right?”
    No, none of that sounded remotely close to “all right.” Okay, the cream cheese chicken sounded bomb.
    Despite the resistance flaring in him, he followed the women anyway, confused as hell how they went from strangers to best friends in two seconds flat.
    Jasmine was all business in the kitchen, sweeping from the countertop grill to the sink, and back to the island where he and Isabelle were seated. She put the asparagus on the grill, drizzled it with oil and spices, and then went to work seasoning the chicken. For a few minutes, Jack thought he was in the clear.
    “Jack and I met at a sorority house,” she announced, stirring spices.
    Here we go.
    Resting his elbows on the granite, he tented his fingers together and listened. Isabelle did the same, as if she were mocking him. And when he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, she bumped him. The playful move lit him up inside, sparking a smile and a feeling of lightness that hadn’t been there before.
    “That was a few years after I moved back to San Francisco. About”—she patted the chicken and stared off into space—“twenty-eight years ago, I guess. Let me tell you, Jack MacGrath was on the prowl.”
    He grimaced. “Do we really have to go into this?”
    “Yes,” the women blurted in unison. And then they smiled.
    “He wouldn’t take anyone home, though. Oh no. He would go to the parties at the werewolf sorority houses on SFSU’s campus, have a drink, introduce himself, stay for a few hours, and then bolt. Never stayed with one woman long enough to have anything serious, even if he hadn’t found his mate.” She threw the chicken on a second grill next to the first. This one had high sides. “Can you believe it?”
    Isabelle shook her head and bumped him again. “Sorority houses? Is that where you were looking for your Luminary?”
    “One place among many.” His voice sounded solemn, though he hadn’t meant it to. “I searched for years.”
    He held her gaze longer than necessary to drive the point home. He didn’t want just anyone. He wanted her. And now that he had found her, he wasn’t letting her go.
    “He wasn’t very charming back then, if you can believe it.” Jasmine wagged a spatula at him before turning the chicken. “But along the way, everything flipped on its end.”
    “He wasn’t very charming back then ?” Isabelle parroted, grinning. “As if something changed?”
    The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
    Jasmine stood with her back to them, hand on her hip, staring at the chicken. And then, after a few moments, she dumped cream cheese, heavy cream, and milk into the pan.
    It was a heart attack in the making, but smelled tasty.
    “He used to go out more, but would have this apathetic, almost grumpy expression on his face. For years. Remember, Jack?” Pouting into a frown, she raised her shoulders up and looked as if she were giving her best imitation of Grumpy Cat. “Like this.”
    Isabelle cracked up beside him. “That’s a good impression.”
    “Jasmine…”
    “But then he bought two Bella Nolan