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So, even though it had been close to a decade since a teenaged Cilla confessed that she had feelings for Maddox, he knew that Dodge remembered that awkward time as if it were yesterday.

Because it was awkward, Maddox tried not to think about it. He’d been flattered and, admittedly, a little surprised when she told him that and, okay, maybe they went on a couple of dates together, but it never led to anything. It couldn’t. It was obvious from the beginning that Cilla wasn’t his mate. No amount of magic or wishing on her part could change that.

She accepted it and eventually got past his careful rejection, jumping from boyfriend to boyfriend until she put any relationships on the back burner in favor of advancing her career. Maddox, meanwhile, continued his search for his mate, figuring there were no hard feelings between them.

“She got over her crush when we were kids. We’re just friends.”

Dodge winked. “Why don’t you try friends with benefits?”

“You’re from the early twentieth century. What do you know about friends with benefits?”

“I died in the early twentieth century. I haunted all throughout the rest of it. I ghosted through the sixties, Mad Dog. Flower power and Woodstock. What don’t I know about friends with benefits?”

“Yeah, well, like I said. Not. Funny.”

“Hey. I wasn’t trying to be. I’ve seen the way Cilla still looks at you when she comes around. Now that you’re able to get it up at last, no way she won’t say yes.”

Maddox was about to tell Dodge to stop it with the damn teasing when he realized something: the sly ghost was actually being serious for once. Dodge really thought Maddox should work his frustration out with Priscilla—with a woman who wasn't his mate.

Hell, no.

Not only did just the idea of betraying his mate finally cause his erection to go down a little, but his claws unsheathed without him even giving them the conscious order to.

Yeah. His wolf was against it, too.

Maddox growled.

That finally got Colt’s attention. Jerking his head up, he threw a warning look at Dodge, then said, “Don’t listen to him, Mad. Even when he was alive, he wasn’t a shifter. You know that. He means well. Dodge just doesn’t understand what it was he said.”

The ghost laughed cheekily. “That may be true, but I can guarantee you that I absolutely do not mean well.”

No. Probably not—on both counts, too. Colt was right when he figured Dodge didn’t truly understand that a shifter would rather die than betray his mate. And, Maddox admitted with a huff, Dodge most definitely didn’t mean well.

He wasn’t being spiteful or vindictive, though. It was who—and what—Dodge was. He was a ghost, and he got his kicks messing with the living because that was basically all he could do. Ever since he started haunting Colt more than a decade ago, his favorite pastime was interfering with the Wolfe brothers’ lives.

He was the one who dared the boys to steal Terrence Wolfe’s infamous girly magazines, and the one who regaled them with stories about the life he lived at the turn of the twentieth century, a young rapscallion of a pickpocket with a lover in every borough of New York City.

Dodge was as horny a bastard today as he was when he was alive; now that he was dead, he was as limp as Maddox had been up until that fateful afternoon. Meanwhile, Colt had never shown any interest in having a mate of his own and, now that Maddox had stopped growling at Dodge, he had turned his attention back to his work.

Neither one of them was any help.

Maddox rolled his eyes, shoving roughly at his aching cock again.

There was only one way to get relief. And since that was impossible when he didn’t even know his mate’s name, he was going to have to get used to the ache sooner or later.

At least standing guard over her property gave him some semblance of peace. It might be lonely, but it was better than putting up with Dodge McCoy.

He got to his feet. “I’m out of here.”

“You shouldn’t go back to her house,” warned Colt. “You just left.”

Maddox didn’t say anything. If he did, it would inevitably be a lie.

His brother knew it, too. With a sigh, Colt said, “Fine. But do me a favor? When she finally leaves, don’t go snatching her off the street so you can steal her away to your place.” He paused, and a bit of Dodge slipped out when his brother added, “The Ants consider that kidnapping. It’s against their laws, in case you didn’t know.”

Maddox scowled. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

4


Tags: Jessica Lynch Claws Clause Fantasy