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the and led, but Spike shut his mouth again.
    “Are you asking me to watch him?” Myka asked.
    “Can you?”
    Now he was pleading. The bad-ass warrior, who’d defeated a giant bear, for crap’s sake, was asking her, near-fear in his eyes, to watch over a four-year-old so he could do . . . whatever he had to do.
    “What is this Shifter business?” she asked.
    Spike’s brows drew down. “You’re nosy.”
    “Jordan’s the son of my best friend, and she died last night. So, yeah, I’m all kinds of nosy. I used to ride horses tougher than you, so don’t think I’m afraid of you.”
    He just stared at her, like a lion might stare at a roach who’d made the same declaration. “Does that mean you’ll stay?”
    “You didn’t answer my question about what kind of work you do.”
    “Errands. I’m an errand boy.”
    “Yeah?” Myka looked him up and down, from all those bulging muscles to his buzzed hair and his wicked-dark eyes. “What kind of errands?”
    “Anything I’m told to do. And that’s all you get. Stay?”
    Myka had planned to already, but she made a show of conceding. “Yes.”
    “Yay!” Jordan yelled from the porch. “My new great-grandma made me pancakes. Want some pancakes, Aunt Myka?”
    “Pancakes? Give him a sugar high, why don’t you?”
    Spike looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. “Pancakes are good for him. He needs energy. He’s a Shifter .”
    Myka raised her hands. Now was not the time to debate. “Just go do your thing. I’ll watch him.”
    Spike gave her a nod, half of thanks, half of exasperation. He turned around without another word and loped back up to the porch. Gracefully. He moved with amazing precision.
    He opened the screen door. Jordan hopped down from the swing and dashed inside before Spike could grab him, the kid shouting for Spike’s grandmother.
    Spike glanced back at Myka, still holding open the door. “Well? Aren’t you coming in?”
    Myka hurried up to the porch. Just before she reached the door, Spike moved ahead of her and walked into the house, the screen gently swinging shut in Myka’s face. What the hell?
    Spike turned around impatiently and yanked the screen door open again. “I said, aren’t you coming in?”
    “I was, but you cut me off.”
    Spike scowled down at her. He was close enough that she could smell the warmth of him, the male musk, the faint sweet of syrup from his pancakes.
    “You think I’m stupid enough to let a female enter someplace ahead of me? Without me checking it out first?”
    “It’s your own house.”
    Spike kept staring at her, then he shook his head. “Goddess, I’m going to have to help Jordan unlearn all kinds of stupid shit.”

Chapter Six
     
    Spike rode down to San Antonio with Ellison, a wolf Shifter who’d decided to embrace Texas all the way, though he’d been transplanted here from Colorado twenty or so years ago. Ellison wore jeans, a big belt buckle, roach-killer cowboy boots, and a big cowboy hat. He wasn’t born with his Texas drawl, but he’d sure adopted it.
    Ellison drove, fast and furious as usual in his old black truck, and pried the story of Jordan out of Spike. Shifters could never mind their own damn business.
    Spike had mixed feelings about leaving Jordan back there alone with Myka. Good idea? Bad? She’d seemed happy to stay, had started helping his grandmother with the breakfast dishes, and Jordan had been excited to have Myka there.
    That little tank top had been sexy as hell on her. Had a little bow right at her cleavage. Perfect for Spike to tug with his teeth.
    He bet she’d smell good right there too. Her scent was like warm roses, spicy and strong but not overpowering. Dipping his tongue behind the bow to taste her skin—there was a good idea. His zipper started to stretch.
    “I said, that little cub’s a wild one,” Ellison’s voice cut through the fantasy. He chuckled. “Fun to watch you running after him.”
    Fun . Sure. Someone without cubs couldn’t