George's Turn [Brac Pack 8] Read Online Free PDF Page B

a man made his groin ache.
    He couldn’t seem to get his mind past that kiss. He’d never had one—
    or given one, for that matter—with such passion in it.

    George’s Turn
    33
    “Oh, man.” George flopped down on the couch. “I’m hooked.” He groaned loudly. He sat up when he remembered his hat downstairs. It was his favorite one, his only one at the moment. George slowly crept down the steps, listening for any sign that Tank still remained. When he heard nothing, he pushed the back door open. He looked down where it had dropped after that amazing kiss, but it was gone.
    “Dammit,” he bit out softly. He felt naked without it. It was all he had left from his mama, and he wanted it back. His mother had bought it for him on his eighteenth birthday, a year before she passed, and it brought him comfort. It made him feel closer to her, like he still had a part of her with him.
    “Late for a human to be out.”
    George looked over his shoulder to see two men standing off in the shadows. Human? What the heck were these two talking about?
    “He’d make a nice snack.” One of them snickered.
    “I don’t know about that. My hide is pretty rough.” George turned to face them, squaring his shoulders. He didn’t run from anyone, least of all cowards who prayed on unsuspecting folk in the shadows.
    “Doesn’t matter. You’ll do.” They stepped forward, their fangs gleaming under the moonlight.
    Fangs? What the hell was going on here?
    George backed away, trying to make his way to the side of the building for more room to deal with these…whatevers.
    “Don’t run. It won’t hurt…much.”
    George spun around and took off, rounding the corner of the diner and heading for his truck. He needed the rope that lay in the bed of it.
    “I like a chase.” One of them laughed with glee.
    “Then come chase me, you no good cow patty.” George skidded to a stop by his truck and swung his arm over the bed. Thank goodness he had left that piece of rope in there.
    “What’s going on, George?”
    George turned his head to see Tank standing by his truck, his damn hat in the man’s hand. He walked forward, stopping in front of 34
    Lynn Hagen
    the big galoot.
    “What’d you do, wait until my back was turned and steal it?” George reached out and grabbed his hat from Tank’s fingers.
    “Now, wait one minute. You left it on the ground. I was going to return it in the morning,” Tank defended himself.
    “Likely story,” George argued. He dusted the hat as if Tank’s fingerprints were smudged all over it then set it atop his head.
    “Who are they?”
    George looked over his shoulder to see the two men round the corner and start their way slowly. He waved them off. “Hell if I know.
    Something about a snack” George turned back to Tank, ticked that the man was smirking. “That hat’s special to me, I don’t appreciate no one touchin’ on it.”
    Tank waggled his finger in George’s face. “I said I was gonna return it.”
    “Sure ya were.” George smacked Tank’s hand away from his face.
    The two men showed their fangs, circling the arguing pair.
    “George, get in my truck, I’ve got vampires to deal with.” Tank shoved George at the passenger side of his pickup.
    “I ain’t no damn girl, I can defend myself against…vampires?” George spun around to look at the two men, who were getting closer, their teeth long and sharp and protruding from their mouths.
    “Yeah, vampires. Now stop arguing, and get inside. I won’t have my mate in harm’s way.” Tank once again pushed George to get in.
    “Will you stop that?” George smacked Tank’s hands. “I said I ain’t a girl, and what’s this mate crap I keep hearing about? I swear I’ll hit you if you say something about England.”
    “Dammit, I’m a wolf, and you’re my mate. I wanted to wait and tell you when I thought you could handle it.” Tank put his hands on his hips, seeming exasperated that George was being so difficult.
    Well, too