Page 12 of Wedding the Werepanther

“Focus!” She bats me on the arm.

“I can multitask!”

Naomi rolls her eyes in amusement, then shows me how to search for videos.

Which is how I find myself a couple of hours later in Victoria’s backyard, the door held up by two sawhorses while I sand it. I’m also shirtless and covered in the exact amount of sweat several videos assure me will act as the perfect thirst trap.

Kayla’s soft gasp of shocked appreciation echoes from the back door, and I grin and flex my shoulder muscles.

I really can multitask.

“Why are you nakedagain?”

I spin and slowly drag the back of one forearm across my forehead, showing off my chest muscles.

Her eyes track the movement, transfixed, her teeth nibbling on her lower lip.

“I’m not naked, but I could be if you want.” I smirk and drop a hand to the waist of my jeans. Is it too soon to do the thing where I pour water all over myself? I’ve got a water bottle handy for exactly that purpose.

“What?” Kayla’s flustered gaze meets mine. Then her eyes narrow, and her hand slashes through the air. “No, of course not! There will be no more naked.”

Victoria slams the back door in contradiction, and I smirk harder. The house is on my side. She helped me find all of the woodworking equipment and even suggested I work in the open of the backyard instead of inside the cramped garden shed.

“Look. This is hot, sweaty work.” I drag my forearm over my forehead again for good measure. “I’m fine not having a door between our bedrooms, so say the word, and I’ll stop.”

Kayla’s lips purse as she chews it over, giving me a moment to take her in. She looks beautiful with the sun gleaming off her purple hair and highlighting the words on her shirt:Stop staring at my tits.

I, of course, can’t tear my eyes away.

With a huff, she throws up her hands. “Fine. You win. Finish the door.” She stomps back into the house.

When I catch her peeking out of her office window an hour later, I grab the water bottle. She probably thinks she’s invisible inside the house since it’s so bright outside, but my fae shifter eyesight is so keen I can see her.

As the cold liquid splashes over my face and chest, my wife watches, mouth hanging open, pure want burning in her eyes.

CHAPTER FIVE

Kayla

Shadow spends all flipping day shirtless in the backyard, working on the door. I never thought of myself as someone with a manual-labor kink, but clearly I was wrong. When he tilts his head back and pours water all over himself? Damn, that shit is hot as hell.

Annoyingly so.

But I can’t fault his work. When we found the door in the attic yesterday, it had a broken doorknob and several layers of peeling paint that told a story of questionable decorating choices made throughout the years. Who thought chartreuse would be a good color for a door? I shudder.

It’s taken hours of sanding to create a smooth surface on one side, but Victoria asked him to remove all the paint so the door can be stained to match the rest of the interior woodwork. And once he’s done with the door, she’s also demanding he refinishthe lintel and jams we’ll have to nail onto the frame to make it a working doorway again.

Shadow picks up the door and turns it over. His back muscles bunch and flex in a fascinating display of musculature that makes my mouth go dry. The werepanther starts scraping the new side, sending peels of old paint flying. But no matter how hard he works, one thing becomes crystal clear.

There’s no way in hell we’re going to have a door between our bedrooms tonight.

As I walk back to my office, I mutter at Victoria, “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?”the photos spell out.

“You could have had us refinish the door before you opened the hole.”

“You wouldn’t have done it.”