Mallory's Bears(4)

“Yeah, they are. Are we going to do this as men or as bears?”

Rick couldn’t help but straighten his back at the question. They hadn’t transformed in several days and his inner bear was aching to get free. But now wasn’t the right time. Besides, he didn’t want the clan to jump down their throats again. “As men. I’d like to get a good look at her before we run her off.”

“At her, huh?”

Shit. He’d fucked up. “I meant at what she wrote.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s what you meant.”

“Go sit on a stick, little brother.” Rick added the “little” knowing Gunner hated to be called a little anything, including a little brother.

“Damn, man. You’re losing your sense of humor in your old age. Are you sure you don’t have that stick up your ass?”

Rick chuckled, acknowledging Gunner’s dig. Every year around his birthday, his brother would razz him about his age even though he was only four years older. Thirty-three wasn’t old, but as long as he was older than Gunner, he’d get the same “old man” treatment.

He heeled his horse into a gallop before Gunner did. For some unknown reason, he didn’t want him to reach the girl first.

By the time they’d made it to the two trespassers, a buzz of electricity had begun to sizzle up and down his spine. The closer they got to them, to her, the stronger the current. It was as though someone had hooked him up to a power line and flipped the circuit to sear straight through his body.

He glanced at Gunner and saw his confused expression. He’d bet anything that he was picking up the same sensation.

He leaned forward and urged his horse to go faster. Running a horse in a pasture that was torn up with the herd’s hooves wasn’t the safest thing to do, but he couldn’t slow down. The hum took over all of him, giving him no choice but to rush to its source.

The nearer they came to her, the more he studied her. She was far too short to be his type. Hell, she couldn’t have stood high enough to reach low hanging fruit. He liked tall, sinewy blondes. But her body? Yeah, that was pretty damn amazing.

Her long, coppery hair reminded him of the brownish-red color of a bucket sitting in the sunlight. He could see how full and lush it was even though it was pulled into a ponytail. The color was beautiful, eye-catching, especially with the strange pink stripe running down the left side to draw his attention down to her full breasts.

Her face wasn’t the angular shape he usually liked, yet it was intriguing. She could’ve been the cover model for Girl Next Door, but with an enticing underlying allure that had him all too aware of his growing cock. Her face had a sweetness about it that made him wonder what color her eyes were. And her lips? They had him aching for a good, old-fashioned kiss.

He reined his horse to a stop, swung his leg over the saddle, and dismounted. Dropping the reins, he strode toward her, ignoring the giant of a man who stood nearby. Gunner was off his horse, but hadn’t moved.

“Lady, are you two lost?”

To her credit, she stood her ground, pulling her shoulders back as though ready to take him on. The glint of alarm in her big green eyes hadn’t faded, but that only gave him more reason to respect her.

“Not at all. I know exactly where I am and what I’m doing.”

She was a feisty one. At least she had that going for her. Okay, that and the curviness of her body. For such a little thing, she had breasts that would rival the town whore’s paid ones. Not that he knew from touching them and he’d never tell Sugar Honey that. She was more than proud of her new boobs.

The woman’s waist was small. Or was it the wideness of her hips that made her waist seem like he could fit his hands around her and touch fingertips? Either way, the package was a damn good one.

“Is that right? Then you know that you’re on the Triple X Ranch. I’m Rick Northman and that’s my brother, Gunner. This is private property, which means you probably also know you’re trespassing. Have I got it straight?”

“Hey, Rick, check it out.”

Rick twisted around to find that Gunner had rounded up one of the calves. He gritted his teeth, and had to choke back a snarl. “Lady, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Why’d you paint my calf?”

She had the audacity to fist her hands on her hips and act as though he was the one who’d done wrong. “Maybe it is your land and maybe that’s your calf, but that doesn’t mean it deserves to die an awful death.”

What the hell was she talking about? Did she know about the animals that had been killed? He reassessed his earlier opinion. Could she be involved?