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Graham peeled off his gardening gloves at the end of the row and sat back on his heels. Did she have to be so hot?
Alice was relentlessly disturbing to him, with the proud lift to her jaw, and the soft mane of her short hair. Even the way she stood, alert and poised on those long, long legs... and worst of all were her hazel eyes, glittering and full of challenge.
Graham wasn’t sure if he wanted to answer that challenge or simply sink to his knees at her feet in surrender the way his lion was sure they should.
He had no interest in running into Alice by accident, so even though he was hungry after a morning of work, Graham gave the buffet a wide berth and found himself sitting behind the hotel at the picnic table he had gotten in the habit of eating at with Breck and Neal before the latter had moved away from the island with his mate.
It somehow didn’t surprise him when Neal appeared, carrying a tray from the buffet.
“How the tables have turned,” the red-maned wolf shifter said wryly. “Sandwich?” When Neal had first come to Shifting Sands, it had been hard for him to accept Scarlet’s generosity. Breck and Graham had taken to discreetly bringing extra food to share at the picnic table so he didn’t have to select his own food from the buffet.
Graham shrugged, then nodded. “Thanks.”
Even a second-rate sandwich from the buffet was something you didn’t turn down. Scarlet insisted on the highest quality of everything; the bread was fresh and fluffy, the meat was cold and flavorful, paired with a creamy cheese, lettuce from Graham’s garden, and a spicy mustard.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of everyone,” Neal said, after a few moments of eating in silence. “It sounded like you... hadn’t wasted time.”
Graham hunched miserably over his meal and didn’t respond.
No, she hadn’t wasted any time explaining exactly how there was nothing between them but leftover evolutionary crap.
“The gang’s all here!” Breck’s bright voice was the last thing that Graham wanted to hear, but the waiter appeared around the corner of the hotel, carrying his own tray. “Brought an extra sandwich for old time’s sake,” he said with relish. “But if you guys are all set, I can throw myself on that bomb.”
Without waiting for an invitation, he scooted in next to Graham on the bench. “Shove those big muscles over, flower-boy.”
The waiter made a production of enjoying his first bites with relish. “Scarlet may be a terrible harpy, but she lays a good spread,” he said approvingly.
“She’s not so much of a harpy as all that,” Neal protested. “I think it’s an act; she’s always been bighearted by action. Even if she constantly swears she isn’t running a...”
“Charity!” Breck finished with Neal. They chuckled.
Graham thought about Scarlet’s dismal news and the defeat in her face that she had tried so hard to mask and could dredge up no humor, taking a vicious bite of his sandwich.
“All we need to complete this reunion is Gizelle,” Breck observed. “Grazing off over there, pretending we don’t exist. Have you seen her yet?”
Neal frowned and shook his head. “I figured I’d let her find me herself, so I haven’t gone looking.”
“You won’t believe how she’s bloomed,” Breck said warmly. “She’s usually human now, brushes her hair—or lets Conall do it—wears clothes most of the time. She helps out at the bar sometimes, hasn’t broken any glasses in weeks.”
“Conall, he’s good for her?” Neal asked cautiously.
“So good,” Breck assured him. “I thought he was a giant, angry jerk when we first met, but he loves that young woman more than anything and she adores him right back. He spoils her rotten, and fortunately she’s too naive to take advantage.”
“He threw a guy who was harassing her into the swimming pool,” Graham added, though he had intended to stay out of the conversation.
“Oh yeah, that was a sight,” Breck laughed. “A deer the size of a mammoth and this mangy, wet bully of a big-mouthed bear. Scarlet marched that jackass straight off the island, you’d better believe it.”
“Good,” Neal said with satisfaction. “I’m glad she’s safe here.”
It suddenly occurred to Graham to wonder what would happen to Gizelle if Scarlet closed the resort. As far as she’d come, as remarkable as her progression had been, she would have a hard time adjusting to a place with normal humans, and she still lacked understanding of many social norms. No one at Shifting Sands cared that she wasn’t polite or didn’t remember to wear clothing, but she still reacted to new things with fear and had a habit of shifting to her gazelle form and fleeing if there were loud noises.
Neal was wrong. She wasn’t safe here. None of them were.
Guilt swamped Graham.
“Speaking of safe,” Neal said leadingly.
“What’s up with you and Alice?” Breck asked more bluntly, when Graham didn’t look up.
Graham shrugged one shoulder and stuffed as much sandwich in his mouth as he could manage. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing?” Breck demanded. “She’s your mate!”
Graham shrugged the other shoulder and knew that both of them were staring at him without having to look up.
“Was it a problem in bed?” Breck asked drolly.
Graham almost choked on his sandwich. “No!” A hundred times no.
“Did you... insult her?” Neal guessed.
“No,” Graham said shortly. Not unless I love you was an insult.
Maybe it was, from someone like him.
“Did you say anything?” Breck asked suspiciously.
Graham shrugged.
“Did you at least tell her your name?” Neal demanded.
That earned them a grunt that might have been a laugh. He’d told her a name.
Graham still wondered if it had been the wrong name. He put the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and swallowed.
“Look,” he said gruffly. “I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but she’s got a job. At the end of her vacation, she’s going back to it. I’ve got a job, too, and I’m going back to it now.”
He rose from the bench and stalked off, wondering dismally exactly how long his own job was going to last... and what he would do after that.