is
it?”
“None of your business,” she snapped.
Brianna danced around in a circle until she
faced the same direction as Sophie. “Found him!
Blue polo, jeans, and devastating smile. His
naughty gaze is totally undressing you.” Brianna
whirled again, shimmying her hips and Sophie
followed, realizing too late that her friend had
danced them practically next to Trent’s table. His
appreciative gaze took in her appearance. His eyes
went dark, desire widening his irises.
Brianna giggled. Then grabbed Sophie’s arm
and dragged her back into the dancers.
“What are you doing?”
“Making him chase you,” she said gleefully.
“Men of all species love the chase.”
“I’m not the prize in a hunting contest.”
“But you could be,” Brianna said.
Sophie put her fists on her hips. “But I’m not.”
“Werewolves!
You
take
everything
so
seriously.” Brianna led Sophie to a darkened
corner of the barn and kept them in the shadows.
“Let’s see how much he wants you.”
TRENT CUT THROUGH the dancers, unable to
see Sophie or the fae. He fought to control the
emotions twisting inside him. The outfit she’d
worn, a pale green dress that accented every curve
of her sensual body, he’d nearly swallowed his
tongue. And when their eyes connected for the split
second, he knew without a shadow of a doubt he
wanted Sophie. Badly. Every cell in his being
called out for her. Her touch. Her kiss. Her words.
With a groan of frustration, he stopped
searching and returned to the table. Gabriel looked
at him with raised eyebrows.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” He drank his beer and shared a look
with his wife.
Patsy leaned over, placing a hand on his arm.
“Are you all right? You look like you’ve been
struck by lightning.”
“I think it’s worse than that,” he said.
“Things are complicated with Sophie?”
“More so than expected.”
Patsy squeezed his arm. “You’re not giving up
on her, are you?”
“Hell, no.” The vehement force in which he
said the words not only surprised Patsy, it
surprised Trent as well. He meant them. He would
not give up on Sophie Lennox. Ever. He was
beginning to suspect he needed her as much as she
needed him...even if she didn’t know it yet.
“Then why are you sitting here?” Patsy asked.
“Go, already.”
Trent kissed Patsy’s cheek, waved good-bye to
his friends, and once again, weaved through the
crowd of enthusiastic dancers. He thought he saw
the pale green of Sophie’s dress in the back of the
barn. He followed that spot of green to a shadowy
corner where Sophie and Brianna sat at a lone
table sipping bubbly drinks.
Brianna’s curious gaze swept him from head to
feet, her smile curling as she reached some
conclusion.
“May I?” Trent gestured to the empty chair.
“I insist,” said Brianna. She held out her hand.
“I’m Brianna. Best friend, confidante, and all-
around-wonderful fae.”
“Trent Clayton. Handyman, werewolf, and all-
around-good guy,” Trent clasped Brianna’s offered
hand. He sat down. “You throw a helluva party.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” She laughed. She pointed a
bejeweled finger at him. “Oo-la-la. You have
certainly put a spell on our Sophie.”
“I have?” He looked at Sophie. His heart
thundered in his chest, and his palms turned
clammy. Shit. “Hi, Sophie.”
“Hi, Trent.” Her gaze was on his. He could
sense her desire in her expression, her body
language, and in the raging pheromones that
matched his own. Sophie wanted him as badly as
he wanted her—at least that’s what he hoped.
Brianna popped to her feet and announced, “I
need more bubbly.” She waved at Sophie and
Trent, and then, disappeared into the crowd.
“Is she coming back?” asked Trent.
“Probably not. She has the attention span of a
spastic puppy.”
“Ah.” Trent took Brianna’s seat so he could be
closer to Sophie. A flowery scent infiltrated his
senses, and
it?”
“None of your business,” she snapped.
Brianna danced around in a circle until she
faced the same direction as Sophie. “Found him!
Blue polo, jeans, and devastating smile. His
naughty gaze is totally undressing you.” Brianna
whirled again, shimmying her hips and Sophie
followed, realizing too late that her friend had
danced them practically next to Trent’s table. His
appreciative gaze took in her appearance. His eyes
went dark, desire widening his irises.
Brianna giggled. Then grabbed Sophie’s arm
and dragged her back into the dancers.
“What are you doing?”
“Making him chase you,” she said gleefully.
“Men of all species love the chase.”
“I’m not the prize in a hunting contest.”
“But you could be,” Brianna said.
Sophie put her fists on her hips. “But I’m not.”
“Werewolves!
You
take
everything
so
seriously.” Brianna led Sophie to a darkened
corner of the barn and kept them in the shadows.
“Let’s see how much he wants you.”
TRENT CUT THROUGH the dancers, unable to
see Sophie or the fae. He fought to control the
emotions twisting inside him. The outfit she’d
worn, a pale green dress that accented every curve
of her sensual body, he’d nearly swallowed his
tongue. And when their eyes connected for the split
second, he knew without a shadow of a doubt he
wanted Sophie. Badly. Every cell in his being
called out for her. Her touch. Her kiss. Her words.
With a groan of frustration, he stopped
searching and returned to the table. Gabriel looked
at him with raised eyebrows.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” He drank his beer and shared a look
with his wife.
Patsy leaned over, placing a hand on his arm.
“Are you all right? You look like you’ve been
struck by lightning.”
“I think it’s worse than that,” he said.
“Things are complicated with Sophie?”
“More so than expected.”
Patsy squeezed his arm. “You’re not giving up
on her, are you?”
“Hell, no.” The vehement force in which he
said the words not only surprised Patsy, it
surprised Trent as well. He meant them. He would
not give up on Sophie Lennox. Ever. He was
beginning to suspect he needed her as much as she
needed him...even if she didn’t know it yet.
“Then why are you sitting here?” Patsy asked.
“Go, already.”
Trent kissed Patsy’s cheek, waved good-bye to
his friends, and once again, weaved through the
crowd of enthusiastic dancers. He thought he saw
the pale green of Sophie’s dress in the back of the
barn. He followed that spot of green to a shadowy
corner where Sophie and Brianna sat at a lone
table sipping bubbly drinks.
Brianna’s curious gaze swept him from head to
feet, her smile curling as she reached some
conclusion.
“May I?” Trent gestured to the empty chair.
“I insist,” said Brianna. She held out her hand.
“I’m Brianna. Best friend, confidante, and all-
around-wonderful fae.”
“Trent Clayton. Handyman, werewolf, and all-
around-good guy,” Trent clasped Brianna’s offered
hand. He sat down. “You throw a helluva party.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” She laughed. She pointed a
bejeweled finger at him. “Oo-la-la. You have
certainly put a spell on our Sophie.”
“I have?” He looked at Sophie. His heart
thundered in his chest, and his palms turned
clammy. Shit. “Hi, Sophie.”
“Hi, Trent.” Her gaze was on his. He could
sense her desire in her expression, her body
language, and in the raging pheromones that
matched his own. Sophie wanted him as badly as
he wanted her—at least that’s what he hoped.
Brianna popped to her feet and announced, “I
need more bubbly.” She waved at Sophie and
Trent, and then, disappeared into the crowd.
“Is she coming back?” asked Trent.
“Probably not. She has the attention span of a
spastic puppy.”
“Ah.” Trent took Brianna’s seat so he could be
closer to Sophie. A flowery scent infiltrated his
senses, and
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