All Chapters of Freakn' Shifters: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Returning to the bedroom, Mitchell seethed at the cat's words, but his anger receded in the face of Francine looking so small and helpless in the big bed. Of course, he should have known her tongue was in fine fighting shape. "Are you guys done pissing on Naomi's walls? Or would you like to each grab one of my legs and pull me apart like a wishbone and see who gets the bigger piece?" "You must be feeling better. You're trying to rip a strip off me," he remarked in a dry tone as he sat on the edge of the bed beside her. "Move over, you bed hog." "No. I'm the injured one here." "Excuse me? Do you think I'm wearing this bandage because it's fashionable?" She peered over at him, her eyes lingering more on his nude torso than his bandage, which made him puff up his chest. "Wuss. My bandage is bigger than yours," she sassed, but she inched over a bit. He slid down on the bed until he lay beside Francine, his head on the edge of the same pillow. Her eyes di

Irritated and longing to go home, the new home he'd discovered in Francine's arms, made Alejandro impatient. For the last two days, he'd followed the hunter's sloppy trail. First missing him by minutes at the scuzzy motel he'd checked out of, the location courtesy of a receipt he'd found snagged on a branch in the tree the bastard perched in. The female clerk at least-after a little persuasion, AKA a smile from him-divulged not only the truck's plate number for his prey but also the make and color of it, which as it turned out, Javier had if he'd bothered asking before running off . What a surprise, the hunter drove a big ass, red pickup truck. Stupid redneck. Most people thought hillbillies and rednecks were an American phenomena. He had news for them, Canada had its fair share of crass, belligerent types who shot anything that moved. But, even he had to admit, their daughters were raunchy in bed. Stereotypes aside, he jumped on the highway, the clerk having mentioned the man s

The moon had just begun to peek over the tree tops when Francine finally convinced Mitchell to go for a run in the woods. He tried to talk her out of it, arguing for the last two hours that he wanted her to go back to bed and rest. She ignored his order. Actually, she laughed at him, and in the face of her giggles, so much better than her moroseness of earlier at her town house, he couldn't say no. Nor could he throw her over his shoulder caveman style and drag her back to bed. Although, that idea did have merit, especially given the ropes they'd used to tie him down when trying to keep him abed still remained attached to his broken headboard and footboard. However, the walls in his house were thin, and he somehow doubted he'd be able to keep his hands off her if he had her trussed spread eagle on his bed. And while he didn't know if she was a screamer or not, Mitchell already knew he was noisy. Besides, knowing his mother, she'd be so happy he'd finally given in to fate, she'd probabl

Francine sensed him before he even had a chance to knock, jumping up from her scrubbing position on her knees to fly to the door. She flung the portal open and threw herself in Alejandro's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs about his waist. "Now that's a welcome," he quipped in her ear, squeezing her back just as tight. "What took you so long?" she asked as he carted her clinging frame into her town house. "My bike died. I ended up having to wait for my brothers to show up with my car and Ignacio's pickup truck. They took my bike back to see if they can bring it back to life, and I drove back here as fast as I could." "You should have called," she admonished. "I, um, kind of got mad when the bike died and might have pitched my phone," he admitted sheepishly. A giggle escaped her. "Naomi's done that more times than I can count." "Where's the dog?" he asked, letting her slide down his body, a very nice body that she'd missed.

Despite Mitchell's ornery nature, they slipped into a routine, a scheduled one that made Alejandro want to bang his head off a wall. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, he got to sleep-very little-with his darling Francine. Mitchell got Tuesdays, Wednesday and Saturday nights, with the weekend daytime spent doing together activities like laundry, housework, or hiking. Sundays were Francine's day of rest and as an added maddening bonus, included family dinner with Mitchell's family. The only saving grace was watching the family dynamics at work. Alejandro revised his earlier opinion that his family was more chaotic. One food fight at Mitchell's parent's house, taught him otherwise. With them working during the day, and only meeting up at dinner, they spent the hours during the week before bedtime conversing, not as stiffly as in the beginning, especially once Mitchell realized Alejandro was a sports fanatic. Of course, it took the dog some soft pleadings on Francine's part to