Running with Wolves (Shifter Country Wolves Book 1) by Roxie Noir Page B

the room, sliding back down onto the couch and nuzzling Greta’s neck.
    She squealed, and then giggled in delight.
    What’s wrong with me? She wondered. I don’t giggle.
    Shane moved his warm hand under her shirt, and she giggled again.
    A wolf howled from her pocket, but she still didn’t care.
    “You still haven’t guessed my secret,” Shane said, his hot breath against her jaw.
    “Help me out here,” she said to Elliott.
    He moved a strand of hair off of her neck, then let his hand move down to her bosom, his finger just barely brushing over her nipple, outside her shirt.
    Greta gasped, and Elliott grinned.
    “Dunno,” he said. “I never cook.”
    The wolf howled again in her pocket, for the third time, and Greta shut her eyes in irritation.
    “That’s the bar,” she said. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
    Elliott’s lips slid lower on her neck as she put the phone to her ear.
    “I’m busy, ” she said.
    “I know, I’m sorry,” said Annika, the new bartender who was keeping the shop tonight.  
    Elliott’s lips slid lower, and he pulled the neck of her shirt down a little. Greta bit her lip.
    “But there’s this guy trying to set your place on fire? And one of the regulars said I should call you instead of the police, first.”
    Greta stiffened on the couch, frowning, and Elliott and Shane looked at her.
    “Someone is trying to set the bar on fire? Call the fire department!” she said, her voice getting tense and high. “Don’t call me!”
    “It’s not that bad!” said Annika.
    Greta thought she might pop a blood vessel.
    “He’s really drunk, and he’s just got a pack of matches and keeps holding one to a leg of a pool table. They just burn out. The table’s not even scorched. He just keeps talking about how he’s gonna burn this place down if you don’t come talk to him.”
    “Who is it?” Greta asked.
    On the other end, she could hear the new girl ask someone at the bar was the drunk’s name was.
    “Ezekiel?” Annika said.
    Just call the cops , Greta wanted to say. The problem was, if the wolf cops came, they wouldn’t do anything. Zeke’s older brother was a well-loved officer. If the human cops came, they’d manage to find ten more minor violations, and then Greta would be paying fines for the rest of the month. The bar did well, but not that well, and she had bills to pay.
    “Send someone to come get me, I am going to KILL HIM!” she shouted into the phone, and then hung up, throwing her phone into the corner of the couch.
    “What is it?” asked Shane.
    “Remember that asshole you got into a fight with?” Greta asked.
    He nodded.
    “He’s ineffectively trying to burn my bar down and won’t stop if I don’t come talk to him.”
    “Call the fire department,” Shane said. “Or the cops.”
    Greta gave then the rundown of why that wouldn’t work, and watched as Shane’s nostrils flared and his temples pulsed.
    “Let us go with you,” he said.
    “No way,” she said. She stood from the couch, not wanting to still be sitting there between two men when whoever Annika sent showed up. “I can deal with my own problem, and Zeke is definitely my problem.”
    The two of them exchanged a glance that Greta couldn’t quite read, but that she was definitely suspicious of.
    “What?” she asked, starting to pace the room.
    “He said you were his the night that Shane and him got into it,” Elliott admitted.
    “His what?” Greta asked. She cracked her knuckles, the pop making her feel ready for a fight.
    “Just his,” said Shane, still glowering on the couch. “That we had better leave because you belonged to him, like you were just a thing .”
    A car pulled up in the driveway, and Greta stomped toward the door.
    She reached it, opened it, took a deep breath, and then turned around, trying to smile.
    “Dinner was amazing,” she said. “I’m really, really sorry.”
    “We’ll see you at the pack meeting,” Elliott said. “Now go kick that drunk asshole out of your