thighs clenching at the stark hunger clearly stamped on his features. She linked her fingers together in front of her before she could reach out and caress his battered face. “What happened?”
Porter’s lips cocked up on one side. “Disagreement.”
Rachel blinked at the understatement, frowning at the slight puffiness of his mouth, the bruised cheek and the vivid markings ringing his right eye. “Disagreement?”
“Means he was being an ass.” A sarcastic comment from a man who rose from his seat to the right of Andreas. His dark hair was caught back in a long tail, his face so like Porter’s Rachel figured him to be the eldest brother. He even sported similar bruises.
“Santos,” was Melinda’s sharp reprimand as she took a seat.
“Sorry.” Dark eyes so similar to Porter’s remained steady on Rachel as he approached, taking her measure. “He was being a jerk.”
Melinda’s exasperated sigh reached from the other end of the table. “Boys.”
“I’m Santos.” He stuck out a hand, enveloping hers as she automatically met his firm shake.
“Rachel. Pleased to meet you.”
Next to Santos, Porter bristled and bared his teeth. Santos did the same.
Rachel tugged her hand free and took a healthy step back, eyes flitting from one man to the other. She might be stronger than a human, but these two males were shifters, and obviously did not pull their punches. If she got caught in the crossfire, she’d wind up black and blue as well.
“And I’m Ria. The second jerk’s wife, I’m sorry to say.” The gorgeous short-haired woman who had helped clean up the spilled beer sidled up and bumped Santos to the side so she could squeeze in between the two posturing males. She was either very brave, or had a death wish.
Or a vampire. Belatedly, Rachel recalled Gwen saying Ria was part vamp.
“Nice to meet you.” As she met the other woman’s confident clasp, Rachel was opting for brave. Spine and spunk emanated from Ria like an icy tart treat.
“Don’t mind them.” Ria tipped her head, indicating the males on either side of her. “They’re acting like idiots, and you never argue with an idiot, else they’ll just bring you down to their level and beat you over the head with experience.”
“Hey.” The “idiots” in question wore identical scowls at the verbal assault.
“If the shoe fits...” Gwen said from across the table where she sat next to Rome.
Ria slipped her finger in Santos’s belt loop and tugged. “Quit crowding. Porter, leave Rachel alone and let her get a plate.”
Porter edged away with a wink, the jovial flirting back in place. “Better load up before it’s gone.”
Hesitant, Rachel went to the buffet laid out on the sideboard and filled a plate. To her relief, conversation started up immediately.
“I don’t believe you’ve met Bob, Annie’s husband.” Melinda said as Rachel took a seat between Katie and Gwen, which also happened to put her directly across from Porter. He was watching her with an intensity that made her nervous, and so after a slight frown in his direction, she kept her face averted from him and on Melinda. “He handles our maintenance and grounds.”
Rachel smiled with pleasure at the white-haired man sitting at the end of the table between Annie and Melinda. She’d seen him in the distance upon returning to the house from the barn earlier and had wondered then, due to the way he’d moved his stocky body with the fluidity of an athlete, if he’d wrestled or boxed in his younger years.
Unlike his wife, whose heavily-creamed coffee complexion didn’t bear enough lines to tout her as a great-grandmother, Bob’s face was rough and weathered, and was a striking contrast to his clear, light-blue eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Rachel beamed at the man. “You must hear this all the time, but I have to say your garden is simply lovely. So alive and magical. I almost expected fairies to appear and dance with laughter as they flitted from the
Porter’s lips cocked up on one side. “Disagreement.”
Rachel blinked at the understatement, frowning at the slight puffiness of his mouth, the bruised cheek and the vivid markings ringing his right eye. “Disagreement?”
“Means he was being an ass.” A sarcastic comment from a man who rose from his seat to the right of Andreas. His dark hair was caught back in a long tail, his face so like Porter’s Rachel figured him to be the eldest brother. He even sported similar bruises.
“Santos,” was Melinda’s sharp reprimand as she took a seat.
“Sorry.” Dark eyes so similar to Porter’s remained steady on Rachel as he approached, taking her measure. “He was being a jerk.”
Melinda’s exasperated sigh reached from the other end of the table. “Boys.”
“I’m Santos.” He stuck out a hand, enveloping hers as she automatically met his firm shake.
“Rachel. Pleased to meet you.”
Next to Santos, Porter bristled and bared his teeth. Santos did the same.
Rachel tugged her hand free and took a healthy step back, eyes flitting from one man to the other. She might be stronger than a human, but these two males were shifters, and obviously did not pull their punches. If she got caught in the crossfire, she’d wind up black and blue as well.
“And I’m Ria. The second jerk’s wife, I’m sorry to say.” The gorgeous short-haired woman who had helped clean up the spilled beer sidled up and bumped Santos to the side so she could squeeze in between the two posturing males. She was either very brave, or had a death wish.
Or a vampire. Belatedly, Rachel recalled Gwen saying Ria was part vamp.
“Nice to meet you.” As she met the other woman’s confident clasp, Rachel was opting for brave. Spine and spunk emanated from Ria like an icy tart treat.
“Don’t mind them.” Ria tipped her head, indicating the males on either side of her. “They’re acting like idiots, and you never argue with an idiot, else they’ll just bring you down to their level and beat you over the head with experience.”
“Hey.” The “idiots” in question wore identical scowls at the verbal assault.
“If the shoe fits...” Gwen said from across the table where she sat next to Rome.
Ria slipped her finger in Santos’s belt loop and tugged. “Quit crowding. Porter, leave Rachel alone and let her get a plate.”
Porter edged away with a wink, the jovial flirting back in place. “Better load up before it’s gone.”
Hesitant, Rachel went to the buffet laid out on the sideboard and filled a plate. To her relief, conversation started up immediately.
“I don’t believe you’ve met Bob, Annie’s husband.” Melinda said as Rachel took a seat between Katie and Gwen, which also happened to put her directly across from Porter. He was watching her with an intensity that made her nervous, and so after a slight frown in his direction, she kept her face averted from him and on Melinda. “He handles our maintenance and grounds.”
Rachel smiled with pleasure at the white-haired man sitting at the end of the table between Annie and Melinda. She’d seen him in the distance upon returning to the house from the barn earlier and had wondered then, due to the way he’d moved his stocky body with the fluidity of an athlete, if he’d wrestled or boxed in his younger years.
Unlike his wife, whose heavily-creamed coffee complexion didn’t bear enough lines to tout her as a great-grandmother, Bob’s face was rough and weathered, and was a striking contrast to his clear, light-blue eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Rachel beamed at the man. “You must hear this all the time, but I have to say your garden is simply lovely. So alive and magical. I almost expected fairies to appear and dance with laughter as they flitted from the
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