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mast.
    “Um, let's go in.” Caleb pushed open the glass door and hastily stepped inside. The scent of humans on the prowl, of drinks made with coconut rum, of new tables and chairs and paint, assaulted his nose for a half second before he firmly tuned it out. Not before, of course, he instinctively scouted for unwelcome scents, like rogues or any wolves not from their Pack, but nothing triggered his inner alarm system.
    All he had to worry about now was the kind of pissy, if really cute, she-wolf with him.
    He scanned the dim interior for a table. He wasn't dumb enough to look for a seat at the bar. Rielle had sounded surprised when he asked her out—okay, she'd been downright shocked. He'd had to make sure she was still on the phone after the words slowly came out of his mouth. But she'd agreed, if a little hesitantly. He'd told her all the reasons Rafe had mentioned, without telling her it was Rafe's idea. She could hardly argue with the logic of it all. In fact, she'd even sounded a tiny bit interested. Probably not in him, of course. Just about going out somewhere other than her house.
    So here they were. It was an actual sort-of date, and he had to find them an actual table to sit at. Barstools were for hanging out. Or so Lily had told him in no uncertain tones when he'd lowered his pride enough to ask his sister about the right behavior for this date thing.
    “Rielle Amoux? You asked her on a date? And she didn't brush you off?” Lily had been extremely skeptical when he'd tracked her down the other day. She was running laps around the den property, in her human form, and she'd stopped to catch her breath and stare her brother in the eye when he asked her how to treat Rielle on a first date. Not that there would be a second date, necessarily.
    “Harsh,” was all he'd said back to that comment. Lily had a soft spot for him, she always had. She was the oldest and he was the youngest, and even though he'd already been taller and stronger than she by the time he was twelve, she always kept a close eye on him.
    “I just mean she's kind of bookish. And you, my dear little brother, are not.” Her affectionate elbow jab had made him laugh and eased a bit of the awkwardness he'd felt about bringing it up anyway. Caleb always knew what to do with a girl, but this was—Ree. A Packmate. Somehow that made it different. And it wasn't a real date, not really. Right?
    After hearing Rafe's reasoning behind his suggestion for Caleb to behave more like a gentleman around Rielle, Lily had convinced him to treat the situation like a real date. “I don't really know Rielle,” she'd said, sounding a bit surprised at that. “Hmm. Anyway, Rafe's onto something, as usual. Besides, she's our Pack historian. I bet she'll have some good stories for you once you manage to show her you're not a complete barbarian.”
    “Stories about what?” he'd asked doubtfully. Lily had just smiled before launching into an assessment of how he should dress, behave, and treat his date.
    His date. How in the hell had running the girl over turned into this full-fledged—thing?
    As he scanned the room in hopeless search for a table, a waitress bustling by rescued him. “There are a few seats on the patio out back. Go grab one and I'll be right with you guys.”
    Whooshing out a relieved sigh, he led the way to a free table on the hidden patio behind the restaurant. He even remembered to pull out a chair for Ree. Of course, he couldn't help but notice her legs as she sat down. They looked sleek and crazy sexy with those high heels she wore. Man, what it might be like to feel those legs wrapped around him...
    His wolf gave an approving rumble deep inside. Ree cocked her head and looked closely at him, sensing something. Caleb desperately searched for a topic, any topic, to steer his gutter mind away from picturing her naked body. Naked on his bed.
    “Uh,” he began, sounding like a complete idiot. What the hell. He knew how to talk to girls. He did it