I flapped a hand at her, rather frantically, to shut her up.
Werewolves had better hearing than most, and I was jogging toward Sarge, who stood next to the tombstone marking the entrance to the Hollows. As I drew closer, I realized his head was hanging low and he just looked . . . sad. Kinkly had ducked around behind the angel tombstone, so I said, or rather huffed, “Hey, Sarge, come run with me. Keep me company.”
He lifted his eyes and slowly broke into a jog next to me. I’d say he was making fun of me, only I really wasn’t moving that fast. Running is not my forte unless I’m running for my life, in which case I’m not half bad at it. I mean, I’d still die, but I’d give whatever was chasing me a good twenty-foot sprint.
“You look blue,” I said as we jogged side by side. “What’s got you down?”
“Unrequited love,” he said with enough seriousness that it made me bite back a kneejerk quip.
I blinked up at him, not sure if he was joking. He was in his mid-thirties, built like a brick house—muscle for days—had lovely amber eyes, a great sense of humor, and was for the most part pretty sweet. “Seriously? Who wouldn’t want you?”
Oops, I’m not sure I was supposed to blurt that out. I’m going to blame it on the lack of blood flowing to my brain as it fought to keep my body moving. He, like Corb, was a hot potato that my raging hormones would love to wrap their greedy little hands around. Sure, he was a werewolf, but I liked dogs just fine.
Woof, woof.
He barked a low laugh. “Thanks, Bree. I think that . . . no, never mind. I’m used to it, and I’ll get over it. How did it go at the auction today?”
Ah, so he knew about that then, did he? “Well, I didn’t get the house.” I didn’t slow to a walk, but my jogging was so slow I might as well have been walking. “They didn’t even let me bid. Himself made sure of it.”
“Himself?”
“Yeah, it’s what I call my ex. He thinks so highly of himself, and I hate saying his name, so it seemed to fit. It just popped out of me one day, and after that it stuck.” I paused and then went through what had happened at the auction, including the parts where I’d kept Missy from bidding so Crash could get the house.
“You should try to separate yourself from Crash,” he said, but it felt like he was saying the words by rote, like maybe he didn’t really believe them. I frowned up at him.
“You know, we might not have known each other all that long, but I can tell when you’re saying something you don’t believe. Why should I stay away from him?” I asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m trying to keep my distance, but I want my gran’s house back, and he’s in the way.”
His unusual amber eyes met and held my gaze. “It’s what I’m supposed to say. I’m a mentor, I shouldn’t be encouraging you to be involved with, or hang around, characters who have been deemed shady by the council.”
Huh. So this wasn’t just about Eammon’s beef. Crash had pissed off everyone. I had a feeling deemed shady was worse than it sounded. Tack that on to him being the fairy queen’s ex . . .
He really was a bad boy.
I didn’t like the shiver that thought sent through my body.
We jogged past three tombstones before I spoke again, choosing my words carefully. “So—hypothetically, of course—if I told you that Crash had offered to let me stay in my gran’s house for two months, to help keep Feish from being lonely, you’d tell me not to do it. Right?”
Sarge startled, and for just a moment, I could have sworn he’d brightened up. “Hypothetically answering, I’d be obligated to tell you it’s a bad idea. But I do think Corb could use some space. He’s mentioned to me more than once that he wishes you weren’t underfoot. And if Crash isn’t there, you should be fine.”
I thought again about the buckets of lube under the sink and the fact that I’d interrupted Corb’s carnal activities the night I’d arrived in Savannah. Tried not to think about the panty-melting kiss he’d given me just a few short days ago. That was just . . . that was nothing. I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I agree. I think he needs to get laid.”
Sarge grinned then, bright as the sun, more his normal jovial self. “You’d better believe it. But who’ll do the dirty work?”
I laughed as his eyes swept over me, and again I had to banish a curl of heat from my body. “Don’t look at me, I won’t be the one doing the laying. I’m the old lady, remember? Besides, he probably couldn’t keep up with me in that department. He’s well past his prime in his thirties, and I”—I touched a hand between my breasts—“am just swinging into my best years of a libido that will not die.”
Sarge’s eyes went wide, a slow look of what could only be called horror flicking across his face. As if his mother had started talking about orgasms. Multiple, mind-blowing orgasms.
I laughed at him as we both slowed to a walk. “Please, you’re telling me that you didn’t know that women sexually peak in their late thirties?”
He cleared his throat. “I try not to think about women in their late thirties and sex in the same mental space.”
My jaw dropped. Oh, snap. I mentally scratched him off my Hot List. That kind of mentality was not attractive, not in the least. I scrunched up my face and bent at the waist with a hand to my back. “Oh, me aching back, it hurts me fierce, young lad! Nothing like the big O to make it better. Would you be helping me out?”
The look of horror he’d given me before was nothing compared to his current grimace. “Are you speaking like a pirate again?”
I straightened up. “Whatever. I was going for old.”
“Terrible. On so many levels.” That last bit was whispered and I was probably not supposed to hear him, but I did. Yeah, he was off the Hot List. In fact, he was officially on the Not List. Even if he begged like the wolf he was, he would not be upgraded.
Nothing like acting like a jackass to kill whatever good looks God blessed you with.
He rubbed his hands over his face as if he could wipe away the image of me having sex. Yeah, total jerk. “Look, I’ll back you up if you want to take that room at your gran’s. That would give Corb some space I think he desperately needs, which will in turn make him less cranky—and thus easier to work with. All of that to say, I think you can handle Crash, especially since he won’t be there, and the risk is worth it in my opinion.”
Part of me wanted to say thank you, the other part wanted to be offended that he clearly thought so little of me and my fellow forty-plus women. Plus, he made it sound like I was a horrible roommate. Corb hadn’t seemed all that cranky to me, but then I didn’t work with him like Sarge did. I settled for a nod. “Thanks. I think.”
He clapped me on the back, sent me stumbling off to the side with the blow, then peeled off to go run with his trainee, Luke, swatting him on the ass when he got close. “Men,” I muttered at the locker room behavior. I considered trying to keep up with them, but they took off like a pair of sprinters, laughing and chasing each other.
Of all the trainees, I was fondest of Luke. He’d gone into this whole thing so he could pay down his dying mother’s medical debt, but he wasn’t getting out. Sarge had bitten him, and now he would become a werewolf. Or maybe he already was? I’d have to look it up in Gran’s book.