Free The Cougar's Wish (Desert Guards) by Holley Trent

And whatever it is seems to be capitalizing on my blackouts to compel me. I’ll deal with it. There’s no use belaboring it.”
    “We ain’t started belaboring yet, honey. All I’m doing is trying to find out a little something about it so I know why I’m lying for you.”
    “I’d like to know why you’re lying for me, too. I didn’t ask you to.”
    “Are you kidding me? I just did you a favor, and you’re going to show me how grateful you are by telling me that you didn’t ask me to do it?”
    She drew in a breath through clenched teeth and pounded her fists against her thighs. “Thank you, but you don’t have to do me any favors. You can go
home
, Steven. You don’t need to be here, and you know that. Hannah’s fine.”
    “But you’re not.”
    The truth had a way of wounding worse than almost any lie. Fortunately, being behind her, he couldn’t see her flinch—couldn’t read in her expression how uneasy she was about it. She had no idea how to fix it, but she would somehow.
Had
to, along with everything else she had to do.
    “What do you intend to do about it, Belle? Do you have a plan, or are you going to act like what’s happening to you is normal?”
    That had always worked in the past. She could just pretend everything was fine. But she
wouldn’t
be able to pretend the next time she shoved her hands into his pants that it was only because of the ghost. Next time, it would be the cat, and the cat was just the part of Belle that had fewer restraints and less concern of social niceties.
    She walked briskly the rest of the way to the diner with him on her heels, saying nothing, but he didn’t have to say anything. His proximity made her spine tingle and stomach upset. It tangled her tongue and muddled her brain. That didn’t seem like the side effect of Cougar heat to her. That seemed like ... a
crush
, and she didn’t do crushes.
    Crushes were for women who didn’t have fangs.
    Gods.
    She pushed through the diner’s side door, and at the sound of the bells jingling, Alex perked up at the counter. “Hi, Steven!” she called out brightly.
    Belle was evidently going to have little to no success at ignoring the man with Alex around.
    Maybe we should have a little chat.
    “Got lunch for me?” Steven asked Alex.
    “Not yet, but I saved you a stool.” Alex pointed to the one unoccupied stool as if Steven couldn’t discern on his own which spot she’d referred to.
    He climbed onto it, and Alex pushed a glass of iced tea across the counter at him.
    Belle walked around the back of the counter, grabbing her apron from under the shelf as she went, and fisted the ties of Alex’s apron when she passed her.
    She pulled Alex back into the kitchen and propped her fists onto her hips.
    “What are you doing?” Belle asked.
    “Being nice. As always.”
    Belle narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Yeah?”
    Alex stuffed her hands into her apron pockets and canted her head demurely. “If you won’t, I will.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “He’s a nice guy, and he’s single. I confirmed it.”
    “Who cares and with whom?”
    Alex giggled. “You care, and wouldn’t
you
like to know.”
    Actually, Belle
did
want to know, but she wasn’t going to ask. Alex had always had a knack for drawing information out of people who wouldn’t have otherwise talked.
    “Why would I care?”
    “He’d be good for you.”
    See,
chided Belle’s inner cat. If the beast could have knocked her lady half on the side of the head, she would have. “Not that I’m entertaining that ridiculous idea at all, but what makes you think that?”
    “Order’s up,” the cook shouted at them. Since he was standing five feet away, the volume was unnecessary, but Belle got the point—they needed to quit yammering and get back to work.
    Alex gave her brother the finger.
    He squinted at her and mumbled something about wishing he’d had the good sense to not work in the same place as his sister.
    Alex tucked some escaped