Wolf Line

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The alternating colours of cream and coffee revolved like hypnotic artwork as a finger of steam rose from the surface of his drink. Jared Gilliland took a long sip and waited for the caffeine to soak through his system and kick his brain awake.

There was nothing better than enjoying an invigorating cup of java while relaxing on the premier harbour-view patio in all of Haines. He turned his face toward the early July sunshine, and contentment rolled over him. Okay, the fact he’d had a wickedly pleasurable night the previous evening with a sweet young thing also had something to do with the lazy satisfaction in his limbs.

His life was good. A trifle frustrating at times, perhaps, but on the whole, damn good.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been up to something, just from your expression.”

Jared popped upright from his sprawl to discover his Beta closing in on the table. The massive man carried a tray covered with mugs. Behind him trailed a convoy of the Granite Lake wolves. Jared jumped to his feet and pulled a chair out of Erik’s way. “Who, me? Up to something? You’re just saying that because nine times out of ten, it’s true.”

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