How to Flirt With a Naked Werewolf - Molly Harper [77]
Cooper shook his head. “Me being there, it’s just going to stir things up, stress him out, make him worse.”
“How could you say that?” Samson demanded. “I figured all I would have to tell you was ‘Pops is sick,’ and you’d come running. I never thought I’d have to talk you into going, even if you haven’t been back in years. It’s bad, Cooper. I’ve never seen him like this. You need to be there. I don’t give a shit what Maggie has to say about it! You’re going, even if I have to drag you back myself.” Cooper shot him a dark, meaningful look. Samson grinned and looked chastened. “Well, I would try.”
I noticed that as Samson got more agitated, Cooper had stepped between me and his gargantuan cousin. I’d been entirely too relaxed around Samson, assuming that because one werewolf was friendly, they all would be. I picked up the can of bear mace and clutched it just a little tighter.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked quietly as Samson gave his face one last thorough rinse. “I don’t like the idea of you visiting people who bite off random body parts. I like your parts right where they are.”
“I need to see my grandfather, Mo. And I need to talk to Eli, ask him a few questions. I’ve needed to tell him about what’s been happening here, to warn him about the people here wanting to hunt down wolves. I’ve put it off for too long.”
“Fine, I’ll drive,” I offered.
Cooper’s eyes narrowed at me. It seemed that both of us were unsure about whether this was a good plan. I knew I had reason to be nervous, heading into a den of his relatives, when there was a possibility that one of them was stalking my neighborhood like a furry Freddy Krueger. Maybe I would see something helpful while we were there, something that could clear the werewolf pack and defuse my moral quandary . . . or maybe a signed confession I could hand over to Alan. OK, that last thing was unlikely, but there was no way I was letting Cooper go alone, especially with Maggie already stressed by her grandfather’s illness. Someone had to drive him to the hospital if she took off more of his fingertips.
Samson grimaced and for the first time seemed a little unfriendly. “It’s faster if we run.”
“But you haven’t had a chance to rest from your run here. Besides, I did mace you. It’s the least I can do.”
“Mo, you seem nice and all, but I don’t think that’s a good idea—”
Stepping around Cooper, I got as close to eye level with Samson as I could and used Cooper’s “brook no opposition” voice. “Samson, I’m going with you. Don’t waste time trying to tell me otherwise. Now, get your ass in Cooper’s truck, or we leave without you.”
Samson peered over my shoulder and grinned weakly at his cousin. “I like her.”
“Me, too,” Cooper said, his tone a little bleak as we walked back to the house to grab some clothes.
“Samson, can I get you a blanket or something?” Cooper asked, sending a pointed look in my direction as he pulled on a pair of jeans.
“Why cover up perfection?” Samson asked, winking at me. Now that Cooper had agreed to go home, he seemed to be sliding back into his natural persona—which apparently was “flirtatious goof-ball.”
I countered, “Well, I don’t allow bare ass cheeks on my upholstery, so if you plan on sitting down, I’m afraid I’m going to have to deprive myself of your glory.”
“I really like her,” Samson told Cooper as he shrugged into sweats and a sweater that were at least two sizes too small.
“Me, too,” Cooper said, sighing as if affection for me was some sort of affliction.
The two-hour drive to the Crescent Valley was strained at best. The three of us barely fit into the cab of the truck. Samson was fidgety, insisting that they’d be there already if they’d run. Cooper tried to ask questions about his grandfather but came off sounding like a general asking for a briefing before heading into battle. Samson