“Are you fuckin’ with me?”
“No, Randall, I assure you I am not fuckin’ with you,” Rafe Maccon eased his immense frame back into his oversized, black leather chair and narrowed his ice blue eyes at his Third and one of his oldest friends. How long had he known the man sitting in front of him?
Randall had come to Maccon City when Rafe was about ten, he looked the same then as he did now. Tall at six foot three inches, muscular, and more than a little intimidating to the Wolves under him with his long beard and equally long dark brown hair.
Rafe, however, was the Alpha. He was more amused than intimidated by his surly friend.
“A vacation?! What the fuck am I gonna do on a vacation? Come on, Rafe, this is bullshit!”
The door to Rafe’s private office flew open and in strolled a very happy, very pregnant Charley Maccon, Rafe’s wife. The Alpha’s eyes glowed as they landed on his positively glowing mate. She wore a long, flowy dress. The shade was a pale-yellow color that, Randall admitted to himself, looked damn good with her creamy complexion and curly dark hair.
Their Alpha Female was quite something. There wasn’t a Wolf Guard in the place who wouldn’t lay down his/her life for her.
“Well, maybe you should consider a vacation to be a relaxing experience, Randy,” she dropped a kiss on Randall’s cheek and walked past him, over to her husband whom she kissed full on the mouth.
The way his Alpha’s eyes homed in on her when she opened the door was nothing compared to the hungry gaze that followed her across the room.
Randall had noticed it took a while for Rafe to get used to his mate’s habit of greeting everyone with a kiss or hug. Wolves were protective of their mates, but Randall thought his Alpha was doing an exceedingly good job of hiding his tension. Werewolves did not share very well.
Charley; however, had stood firm. That was the way she was raised, and she wasn’t going to change for any, how had she put it? Neanderthal brow-beating husband, regardless of how cute his ass was!
Randall had no direct knowledge if the “cute ass” statement was true or not. And he didn’t want to know. He liked Charley though, had from the beginning. He was musically inclined and often took to one of the common rooms to strum his guitar or play a few keys on the piano.