Page 17 of Feral

“Did she tell Natalie she’s my mate?”

“Of course not, you asshole. Natalie’s new to town. If she’s going to be your mate, then Audrey figured they should meet, since they’ll be sisters-in-law and all.”

“She’s not my mate.” I slowed the truck around the corner and went down the Shefield drive.

“Then why are you pulling up to her house? I know you’re driving over there. If she wasn’t yours, you wouldn’t give a shit she was on the roof.”

I turned off the engine, tore out of the truck when I saw my mate just where Boyd had said: kneeling two stories up on the fucking roof with a hammer in her hand.

“I don’t know if I should thank you or punch you in the face for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I’m not the one you’re angry at. If someone needs to be punished, it’s your mate for putting herself in danger.”

Well, fuck. That suggestion made me hard as stone. I’d like to punish her. Over my knee. I ended the call and shoved my cell back in my pocket. Boyd might have been right. The idea of taking that feisty redhead in hand was the best one I’d heard all day.

Just as soon as I got her down from the goddamn roof.

Crazy little human. What was she thinking? Did she not realize how fucking fragile she was? When her bones broke, they didn’t repair overnight like mine. If she broke her neck, her life would end, just like that.

I wanted to shout up to her, but that would be foolish. Startling her while she was up there could be disastrous, even though she had to have heard me tear up her driveway. Instead, I checked out how she got up there. A ladder was on the roof of the wraparound porch, a window open right next to it, most likely her bedroom or the one next door. She either had no care for her safety or wanted to win the Darwin awards. The wooden ladder had to be older than I was and warped. It wasn’t braced or anything on the roof. And that was just how she got up on to the main roof, not the fact that she was there to begin with.

I hopped onto the porch, then climbed onto the railing, turned and faced the house and reached up to grab the porch roof. With a hop, I pulled myself up, then swung a leg onto the shingles. With a little sweat and a whole hell of a lot of swearing, I pushed to my feet, then checked the stability of the ladder before using it to join her.

“What are you doing up here?” She knelt by a decent sized hole in the shingles. It hadn’t been ripped off from the rain the night before, but maybe from the storms a few weeks ago, when one of our trees fell through the barn during Boyd’s and Audrey’s wedding reception.

“What the fuck areyoudoing up here?”

She waved the hammer she held in her left hand. “Fixing a leak.”

“The only way to fix it is put on a new roof.”

“Not happening.” She was squatting down, and she shifted slightly to face me. At least she had on jeans and sturdy leather boots. I wouldn’t have to punish her for wearing something stupid like flip flops. “I found a few shingles in the old barn. I’m giving it a patch for now.”

“I’m not arguing with you about what you’re doing, I’m arguing at the fact thatyouare doing it. It’s dangerous as fuck up here. You could have slipped off, and no one would have known.”

Her back stiffened, and her eyes narrowed. Her breathing picked up, and I couldn’t miss the way her breasts rose and fell beneath her white tank top. Or the fact that her skin had a sheen of perspiration or that I could scent that tang of sweat along with her sweet essence. She had on more clothes than I’d ever seen her in, but she was still stunning. And now she was as pissed as me. It was obvious she didn’t like to be told what to do. In a situation like this, thirty feet up? Too fucking bad.

“You’re not my keeper,” she practically growled, which made my wolf want to growl right back.

“It sure as fuck isn’t Markle,” I countered.

Her eyes narrowed, and her cheeks flushed. “It isn’t you.”

“It sure is, angel. Give me that hammer, and we’ll get this patched. Then you’re getting your hot little ass off this roof.”

“I can patch it just fine, thank you.” Her sass was supposed to piss me off. It only made me hard. Made me ache to sink balls deep inside her. But not up here on a fucking roof.

“You have two minutes to finish.” I didn’t move, just glared. Waited. My issue wasn’t with her ability to fix the roof—she could do the job. Once she was down though, I was going to destroy that ladder so she couldn’t get up here again.

She huffed, then slid one of the rectangular roofing sheets into place, hammered it along the top side. She did two more, covering the damaged area.

I held out my hand for the hammer. With a frown, she handed it to me.

“I’ll go down first. You follow. Then we’ll discuss your punishment.”

Her mouth fell open, and one brow lifted, but I stood and went to the ladder. She hadn’t moved.

“Punishment?”