The Boarlanders had eaten dinner on a long table against the far wall of Jam’s Chicken House. It was one of those old-fashioned restaurants with dark wood walls, exposed rafters above, vintage street signs hung everywhere, mismatched tables, and checkered table clothes. There were only a few options for dinner, and all the sides and biscuits were served family-style. Everyone was cutting up, ribbing each other, laughing louder than anyone else in the restaurant, and for the first five minutes, she’d debated reminding them they had a public image to uphold, but she’d decided against it. Let them laugh. Let them have a good time. If nothing else, the people in this restaurant could see the Boarlanders genuinely enjoyed being together. That’s if they ignored Clinton’s scowl and the soft snarls that occurred when someone got too close to one of the predator shifter’s food. She supposed big, burly loggers required a lot of calories. Beck had barely heard a word throughout dinner.
What do You think about Boarlander Beast Boar (Boarlander Bears Book 4)?
