any of his brothers or cousins if they stared past the pastel yellow skirt or near-sheer top for too long. His getting so uptight wasn’t going to help calm her nerves.
“They just appear fierce. I swear, the whole lot is nothing but a bunch of old, hen-pecked sissies.” Dax spoke the words as he opened Zhara’s door knowing full well his brothers and cousins overheard his statement.
“Sissy, huh?” And just like that, at his craziest brother Fin’s comment, Dax’s hopes of a calm reunion of sorts shot out the window.
Before he managed to yell no, Fin stripped off his clothes, to the hoots and howls of the others, and went streaking across the meadow before shifting and disappearing into the woods.
“Wow, your family—-or at least a few—seems, uh…colorful,” Zhara commented as Fin roared in the distance.
***
Zhara hadn’t wanted to admit to being terrified of meeting Dax’s family, but now her trembling had given her away. When Dax suggested a week-long trip home to Maine to meet them, she’d been excited. Knew it meant something for him to ask this. Later the anxiety of what they might think of her kicked in.
She caught Dax doing a quick nod at his family, who retreated into the massive log cabin. More like a log mansion, but whatever. Zhara lowered her head guiltily at the thought she’d caused any awkwardness. Hell, she wasn’t the one who’d stripped down. She’d thought Dax had a body like no other. His brother wasn’t as chiseled but he wasn’t anything to sneeze at either.
The other man was the polar opposite in coloring, though. Where Dax was fair-haired and fair-skinned, Fin was dark-haired and darker skinned. More than golden, but lighter than her own mocha shade. Dax was a good foot taller, but Fin was broad. A German Shepherd to a Pit Bull. Both powerful, but one bulkier than the other. She’d tried to avert her gaze, but when a man you don’t know bares all, you can’t help but...well, peep at the pecker.
“Look, we can stay back the lodge in town if you’d be more comfortable. Honestly, with Valentines’ Day coming up, maybe it would be best anyway.” Dax wagged his brows suggestively at her.
Zhara glanced at Dax’s face and read the disappointment. He’d go back with her, though. She didn’t doubt that. He wouldn’t complain or hold it against her, but he would be let down.
“No. I’m fine. Caught a little off guard, but I’m fine. So you’ve got a big and—”
“Goofy. Best word to describe the lot of them,” Dax jumped and finished for her. “You sure about staying here? Its not too late to turn back, but all bets are off once you’re inside and Mom gets hold of you.”
“Nah. I’m not a weenie. I’m a Bronx chic. I can take on anyone.” Well, she hoped so.” Let’s get our stuff out of the back. I think they’re staring at us from the windows.”
“Oh, you can bet they are.”
She and Dax grabbed their bags, and she took a deep breath and entered the home of giant-sized tiger shifters. For a brief moment, she remembered the saying about a lamb to the slaughter.
“We’re so happy to have you here so we can become acquainted,” Dax’s mom, Willow, stated before taking the suitcase from her hand as if the thing weighed no more than a feather. “Let me show you to your room. We can chat on the way.”
Zhara shot Dax a nervous glance, but when Dax started toward them, his mother took his bag from his hand and shooed him into the den with the other men.
“For heaven’s sake, Dax, you’re acting like I’m going to bust out with every embarrassing childhood story.” She winked at Zhara. “I’ll do that later after dinner.”
And just like that...Zhara loved Dax’s mother.
Zhara followed Willow down a long, wide hall to a gorgeous wooden staircase, which took them up three flights of stairs to an enormous upper level.
“Don’t you pay any attention to those testosterone-overloaded males downstairs. Not a one has a mean bone in
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