Wolf by Madelaine Montague Read Free Book Online Page A

sent him a significant look and Beau shrugged. Carrying two, he moved to the table and looked down at Sylvie. After staring back at him blankly for a moment, she finally realized he was waiting for her to move over. She scooted across the seat.
    He settled, setting both meals down. “Beef? Or Chicken?”
    Considering his comment, Sylvie decided he’d probably prefer the beef. “The chicken’s fine.”
    He pushed it toward her. “Bring something to drink when you come, Beau.”
    Sylvie heard the rattle of the fridge and then the rattle of bottles. Her stomach knotted when she realized he’d grabbed the case of beer Carl had stocked. Hopefully, however, it wasn’t enough to get them drunk.
    “You drink beer?”
    Sylvie glanced at Mac. “No. I’ll take water.”
    Beau set the case down and headed back into the kitchen area, returning a few minutes later with a bottle of water. Hawk slid around the booth to give the others room and grabbed a bottle of the beer.
    “Who’s the beer for?”
    Sylvie stiffened. “Carl brought it.”
    “Carl your boyfriend?” Hawk asked.
    She glanced at him, realizing he was a lot closer than she’d first thought. “He’s just a friend.”
    “Your boyfriend don’t mind you take jaunts with old Carl?”
    “Why don’t you just ask her if she’s got a boyfriend, dumbass?” Cavanaugh asked with a chuckle.
    Hawk shot him a bird. “You got a boyfriend?”
    “Knock it off,” Mac said before she could answer.
    “Shit, Sarg. We’re just making conversation here,” Beau muttered irritably.
    “You’re making her nervous. Let her eat.”

    25
    On one level, they weren’t. The easygoing conversation between them almost made her forget she was a captive. She could almost imagine herself sitting down in a club or someone’s backyard, just enjoying a little food, a little flirtation, and friendly company.
    On another level, they definitely were. It was impossible to ignore the fact that they were hitting on her. Whether they were actually serious or not was another matter, but it was still a little overwhelming to be hit on by so many good-looking men at the same time.
    And they were good-looking now that she’d settled down enough to notice. It almost went without saying that they were all built like young gods—because they were young and in peak physical condition besides. Being young and built well was enough to make them attractive by itself, but it went beyond that. They had nice faces to go with that youth and great build. She doubted any of them had ever had any trouble coaxing a woman into their bed. Even though she was inclined to think Mac the handsomest of the four, the others could give him a run for his money.
    Beau was a total flirt and his Cajun accent was just icing on a package that was already dangerously attractive. Cavanaugh had a hint of that same accent and she wondered if they’d known each other before they’d joined the service. That thought led her to another. Every one of them had a southern accent.
    Curious coincidence? Or had they all known each other before they’d joined up?
    “You’re all from southern states, aren’t you?”
    The men looked at each other a little blankly and then shrugged. “Sarg is from Wyoming,” Hawk volunteered.
    Sylvie glanced at him in surprise. He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m surrounded by Rebs. They kind of rub off on you.”
    She smiled faintly at the admission, but then frowned thoughtfully. “So it’s just a coincidence? You didn’t know each other before you went into the service?”
    “Nah,” Cavanaugh responded. “I’m from the mighty state of Mississippi—
    Hawk’s a long, tall Texas, and I figure you can guess where Beauregard’s from.”
    “Most of the hot spots are hot zones,” Mac responded to the question she hadn’t voiced. “It’s easier to handle the heat when it’s something you’re used to. Then, too, southern boys are just crazy enough to think crawling around on their bellies