Running with Wolves (Shifter Country Wolves Book 1) Read Free Page B

was a fire hydrant he’d claimed by pissing on?” Shane said, feeling the spark of anger in his chest reignite. “Yeah, I heard that.”
    “He got what he deserved,” Elliott said, then pointed one finger at Shane. “You didn’t have to be the one to give it to him. But he deserved getting punched right in the face.”
    Shane grinned.
    “You could look a little less pleased,” Elliott teased, closing the trunk. “At least try for being sorry.”
    Shane rearranged his face into the most serious expression that he could. When Elliott looked at him, he burst out laughing.
    “You’re a terrible liar,” Elliott said, and kissed Shane on the mouth. “Come on, get in the car.”

    At their kitchen table, Shane sat very still, shirt off, while Elliott squirted saline solution into a gash on his arm from a squeeze bottle.
    “Ow,” said Shane.
    “He got you pretty good,” Elliott said. “Sorry, I just want to wash it out. No telling where that mouth’s been.”
    Shane shook his head, sighing.
    “I deserved it,” he said. “That’s what I get for fighting strangers in strange bars. I don’t even know Greta.”
    His heart did a flip in his chest when he said her name, though.
    “If it helps, I didn’t get the impression that she was a fan of it, either,” Elliott said. “Take a deep breath.”
    Shane did, and squeezed his eyes shut as Elliott quickly spread his wound wider, shining a flashlight into it. This part always hurt so much more than getting the wounds in the first place.
    “You’re good,” Elliott said, letting go. Shane exhaled and looked down. The blood had slowed to a small trickle, mingling with the saline that Elliott had used to clean the gash out. “I’ll just wrap you up and call it a day.”
    “Did you talk to her after I left?” Shane asked.
    “Not for long,” Elliott said. “You washed your hands, right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Squeezed these edges together while I wrap you,” Elliott said.
    Shane knew the drill.
    “What did she say?”
    “Well, she said not to start fights in her bar, for starters,” Elliott said, flicking his gaze to Shane, who made a face. “But she also said that we could come back as long as we didn’t.”
    Shane felt a quick thrum in his veins, a surge of hope springing through him.
    “Greta’s cute,” he said.
    He knew full well that cute wasn’t the word he meant. What he meant was something like looking at her makes me feel like my bones are melting or I would fight a bar full of drunk grizzlies to talk to her again , but it was the first word that came to mind.
    Elliott chuckled and fastened the bandage, then leaned over Shane’s shoulder, his face an inch from the other man’s.
    “Cute?” he asked, a smile lighting his eyes. “That’s the word?”
    “We’re not all over-educated,” Shane said.
    He laughed and kissed Elliott on the mouth, playfully at first, but then the kiss deepened. He could feel the hunger inside Elliott and pushed against his mate.
    “Ow,” Elliott said, breaking the kiss. He touched his nose gently.
    Shane felt awful right away.
    “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said.
    “I’ll live,” Elliott said, tentatively scrunching his nose.
    “Go put some ice on that,” Shane said. He reached out and very, very tenderly touched Elliott’s nose. “It’ll help. Trust me. I’ll clean up in here and then come join you.”
    “Thanks,” Elliott said. He took an ice pack from the freezer, then walked out of the kitchen and sat on their couch, his head tilted back, feet up on a box labeled Elliott’s Books.
    Most of the living room was piled high with boxes that said Elliott’s Books.  
    Shane hoped again that moving to Cascadia hadn’t been a bad idea.
    Sure, Oregon hadn’t been great. Once the people there found out they were wolf shifters, everything got harder: finding work, finding a place to live, even finding a pizza place that would deliver. While bear shifters had mostly integrated into modern society, and the