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“Lesson one. We don’t like touch.”
    Alyssa forced herself not to flee like her instincts told her to and gestured to where Emerson Kane was making out with her mate, Bash, at the end of the next table. “They’re touching.”
    When Clinton’s chest puffed out as he shrugged, she became fascinated by his nipples, oddly shaped and drawn up tight against the thin white material of his V-neck T-shirt. A glint of metal barely shone through the threadbare fabric. Piercings?
    Clinton cleared his throat, and when Alyssa wrenched her attention upward, he looked even angrier somehow. “How did you find me?”
    “I tracked you down on the Internet.”
    “I like the way you stalk!” the black-haired, green-eyed giant, Bash, said from his spot beside Emerson.
    “This is so weird,” she said. “All of you are kind of famous, and I’ve never met famous people before. I recognize most of you from the Internet, but it’s so crazy to see you in person. And you just said my name. Oh! And happy birthday, Audrey!” She shook her head to stop her rambling.
    “You want more autographs?” Clinton gritted out.
    Right. She was here for a reason, not to get starstruck by the Boarlanders. “No, you made your point with the first one. I thought about leaving, but my friends rented me this cabin, and I thought it would be relaxing, but it’s really out in the woods and there’s some animal that scratches at the door at night, and I can’t sleep at all. I haven’t taken a vacation in forever so I stayed and did everything this town has to offer.”
    “Hobo hot pool?” Kirk, the actual freakin’ silverback shifter, asked.
    “Yes. Twice.”
    “Well,” Clinton murmured, “it’s your own damn fault for picking Saratoga, Wyoming as your vacation destination. There ain’t that much to do. Bye.”
    Alyssa gritted her teeth and adjusted the strap of her purse to better sit on her shoulder. “I kept your…autograph…but then I thought of something. I watched you talk to other people, and you didn’t tell them to leave. And you had this spark of recognition in your eyes when we saw each other. I feel like you know me, and I’m looking for some answers—”
    “Lady, I don’t know what to tell you, but I don’t know you.”
    The alpha of the Boarlanders, Harrison, twitched a frown over at Clinton, and the motion caught her attention. The giant’s eyes tightened in the corners. “What’s your name again?”
    “Alyssa. Alyssa Dunleavy.”
    “Hmm,” Harrison said in a strange tone. “Dunleavy.”
    Quick as a bee sting, Clinton grabbed her upper arm and guided her away from the Boarlanders. “I need to talk to you outside.”
    “But…I’m hungry.”
    “Fuck, lady. Don’t tell me stuff like that.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like your needs. I ain’t the one to take care of them, and you’re making me feel all…” Clinton inhaled deeply and let her arm go, then led her outside.
    “I make you feel all what?”
    Clinton lowered his voice outside the restaurant. “You can’t be here. You can’t. It’s not safe. My bear ain’t safe, lady.”
    “Alyssa,” she gritted out, hating the way he distanced her by calling her “lady.”
    Clinton shook his head and backed up a couple steps until his back was leaned against the edge of the open garage door. “You’re human. My bear don’t like humans. He wants to hurt them, and you’re fragile with paper-thin skin—”
    “I’m following you on social media,” she blurted out, completely done with him making assumptions about her weaknesses.
    “Well, I’m not on social media, so that’s impossible.”
    “GrumpyBLander?”
    Clinton pursed his lips into a thin line, tossed a death glare inside in Beck’s general direction, and muttered, “Mother fucker.”
    “Sooo…you’re a grizzly bear.”
    “Since you don’t know the culture, I’ll clue you in. It’s rude to talk about our animals.”
    “Oh, okay. Are your nipples pierced?”
    She reached for his chest