Hello, lovelies! This week I’m doing another sneak peek at the third book in my Esposito Country Shifters series, Shifter Woods: Snarl. I am not making things easy for Jack, but hey, the only easy day for a SEAL is yesterday.

Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!

Jack wiped up the last bit of sauce with a scrap of garlic bread and popped it into his mouth, chewing happily. The rich tang of sautéed garlic and onions had combined with the herbal bite of chopped fresh basil, the spice of toasted oregano, and a smooth, meaty tomato sauce into something that was purely amazing. Poured over al dente pasta and with a green salad on the side and a glass of good Merlot in front of him, it was by far the best meal he’d had in some time. “That was absolutely incredible, Kate,” he said after swallowing. “You’re a hell of a good cook.”

Across the table, Chandler was scraping his own plate clean with more garlic bread, having demolished his own pile of pasta and sauce with gusto. “Damn right she is,” he said with obvious pride. “And she makes a mean chicken parmesan, too.”

“Gotta keep you guys fed and functional,” Kate said, giving her father a wink as she twirled up the last of her own spaghetti around her fork. “And since I cooked, you two can clean up.”

Chandler sighed, but nodded. “Fair’s fair.”

Jack sat back, content. The dinnertime conversation had been easy enough, with Chandler sounding him out on how his first day had gone and Kate praising his assessment skills. The older male’s eyes had narrowed when he heard about the asshole guest in the bar. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”

A corner of her mouth curled. “He tried. Nothing I haven’t handled before.” Her smile widened in Jack’s direction. “But Jack definitely made it easier for me.”

Chandler gave him an approving look. “Well, all right. But next time you call security if some jackass tries something.”

“Sir, yes sir.” Her tone was gently mocking, but Jack thought he heard an edge under it. He hoped it was just the natural tension between a father’s protective instincts and a daughter’s urge to be independent. And if it isn’t, who do you side with? Your former commander, or your future mate?

That was a problem for another time. “Everyone done?” he asked.

Both Chandlers nodded. He got up, taking their plates and silverware and stacking them on his own. “I’ll get these in the kitchen.”

The surprised look on Kate’s face suggested that clearing the table wasn’t part of what her father considered “cleaning up.” He flashed a grin at her as he scooped up his former commander’s silverware and added them to the small pile of cutlery on the topmost plate. “Dishwasher, right?”

She grinned back. “I like him, Dad. Can we keep him?”

Chandler’s long-suffering eyeroll required Jack to swallow a chuckle as he carried the plates into the homey kitchen, opening the dishwasher he’d spotted during his reconnoiter after work and slotting things into their respective racks. Another trip brought in the wine glasses and salad bowls. He was studying the leftover sauce in its pot on the stove and wondering where the storage containers were when he smelled her standing behind him.

Turning, he saw her with hands on her hips, another of those feline grins lighting up her face. “You know, you don’t have to do everything yourself,” she chided. “Dad’s perfectly capable of putting stuff in the dishwasher.”

He shrugged, wondering what she would do if he admitted his real reason for being helpful—the hope that he’d get her alone for a few minutes. “Just trying to pull my weight.”

“Yeah, I figured.” She stepped closer, stopping when she was only a few inches away. “Look, I don’t know your back story, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But this isn’t Coronado. You don’t have to prove anything here.”

The mention of the Navy base made his gut contract a little with longing. “That’s not how SEALs work,” he said, trying to keep his tone gentle. “We keep going, no matter what. I’d think you’d know that by now.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” She blew out a soft breath, and he couldn’t stop himself from inhaling. That was a mistake. Even with the overtones of garlic, onion, and wine, her essence was a sweetly golden beacon that reached into his soul and made his wolf howl in primal longing. Our mate. Ours.

And she was. His hands ached with the need to touch her, kiss her, pull her close and let her scent drench his skin. Her sweet round tits would feel amazing against his chest, and his rapidly hardening dick wanted to press against her belly, ride the rising tide of their paired desire—

No. I promised Chandler. She’s off limits.

The thought of the older male learning that he’d broken his vow had the same effect as diving into an ice cold breaker. His wolf growled this time, furious at his refusal. Our mate!

And she can’t smell that, plus I made a damn promise. So back the fuck off, furbag.

His wolf retreated, still growling. He stepped back as well, bumping into the stove. “There’s a lot of sauce left over,” he said, keeping his tone brisk. “Want me to freeze it?”

A flicker of disappointment flashed in her eyes. “Yeah. Use the pint containers in the cabinet left of the sink.”

“Got it.” He turned, aware that she was standing there watching him. You know the drill. It’s all mind over matter — if I don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.

Except that he did mind, dammit. And he had no idea how to fix it.

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