Violet tore her gaze away from him for long enough to see that they'd arrived at the restaurant. She'd been so preoccupied with him that she hadn't even noticed they'd been approaching it.

"Don't give up yet," he said. "This area has some pretty unique jobs a if you want to try something new, you should keep looking."

"Thanks." Her heart fluttered as she reached for the door handle, loath to exit the truck and his presence. "See you in a little bit." The interview probably wouldn't take long a at least, hopefully not. As she approached the restaurant that had been styled to look like an enormous log cabin, mixed scents of frying steaks and burgers drifted across the parking lot, along with a dozen other food smells, but they failed completely to entice her. The only craving she entertained was one for a certain park ranger who sat in the cab of his truck, waiting for her to return to him.

Ronnie exhaled as Violet strode across the blacktop, her purse tucked under her arm. The khaki pants she wore hugged her ass like a second skin, but somehow still looked classy. He stared, powerless to look away, and gripped the steering wheel as if he were guiding the truck around a gravity-defying hairpin turn instead of sitting in a parking lot with the engine shut off. His attraction to Violet wasn't going to fade away. In fact, it grew stronger every time he saw her, ratcheting up the tension that simmered constantly beneath the surface of his skin. He couldn't remember ever getting so worked up over anyone else before, not even when he'd been a teenager and had developed several embarrassing crushes.

Violet was special, which was exactly why he was holding out instead of wrapping her in his arms and sliding his tongue deep into her mouth in search of tell-tale sweetness. If she wasn't the one ... well, he wasn't sure he wanted to know yet. The thought of such severe disappointment made his gut twist in hypothetical agony.

At thirty-two, he was far from ancient, but he wasn't getting any younger, either. And as a shifter living deep in the mountains, the pool of potential mates was decidedly shallow. None of the Roaring Water Tribe females were meant for him and he'd probably be reduced to dust in the ground before another woman like Violet wandered into his corner of the mountains. Years of suppressed mating instincts had gripped him when he'd first laid eyes on her, bringing some neglected part of his consciousness to life and making him realize just how badly it was possible to want somebody. Each time they met, the feelings and urges seemed even more inescapable. Either she was the one, or celibacy was seriously impairing his judgment.

He cast a quick glance in the direction of the restaurant doors she'd disappeared through. His attraction to her felt like a lot more than the effects of deprivation. Breathing another sigh, he leaned back against the seat and pried his hands from the wheel, resigned to waiting for her to emerge from the restaurant again. All he had to do in the meanwhile was somehow get enough of a rein on his desire that he'd be able to resist the inevitable impulse to lay hands on her.

"How'd the interview go?" Ronnie held the passenger-side door open for Violet. As she climbed inside, he was rewarded for his chivalry by a spectacular view of her khaki-clad curves. He let his gaze linger until she settled onto the seat, then met her eyes.

"All right," she said with a shrug. "Seemed pretty standard to me. They said they'd get back to me within the week."

She sounded like she was talking about watching paint dry. "You don't seem very excited about it." And why should she be? Just a few weeks ago she'd charged through a spray of bullets and literally torn the throat out of a shifter hunter who'd kidnapped her pack's alpha female. At the time, fear for her safety had nearly torn Ronnie's heart out as well, but she'd come away unscathed and more irresistible than ever.

She was brave a so brave that if he hadn't had a handful of shot-up shifters to keep alive that night, he probably wouldn't have been able to stop himself from taking her right then and there, worries be damned. But he'd spent the night digging bullets out of bodies instead and she'd washed the blood from her skin before whipping up a huge meal for the entire pack plus him and his father. A woman who could send a shifter hunter straight to hell and then take care of an entire bandaged, hungry pack ... well, she was capable of a lot more than waiting tables.

She shrugged again. "Excited? I can't say that I am. It's hard to be excited when I know exactly what I'm getting into. Waiting tables isn't exactly the most thrilling profession in the world."

"Sounds like you're ready for a change," he said, gripping the edge of the door as she settled into her seat and fastened the seatbelt, which strapped snugly across her chest, settling into the valley between her breasts and rendering them that much more impossible not to notice. The sight combined with his memories of her unflinching courage and culinary abilities almost brought him to his knees. He made a small sound in his throat as he forced himself to take a step backward. She was definitely selling herself short by pursuing a job she didn't want a if only he could get her to see it that way.

She shrugged again and he eased the door shut, resisting the urge to glance at her through the windshield as he rounded the truck a he could at least go for two seconds without looking at her.

"Thanks again for the ride," she said when he climbed into the driver's seat and turned the keys in the ignition.

"My pleasure," he said, backing out of the parking lot and easing out into the busy street, eager to escape the crowded tourist town and reenter the wilderness where they could be truly alone together, even if they were only riding in the truck, making small talk. "I wasn't busy this evening anyway a if it weren't for this, I probably would've just spent an hour or two fishing."

"Oh." She frowned. "I didn't mean to intrude upon your fishing time."

She sounded so serious and so genuinely apologetic that he almost laughed. "It's not a big deal. I fish all the time in a stream near my house; it's not anything special to me."

That seemed to reassure her a little; she looked up, turning her gaze toward him.

A light turned red and instead of being annoyed, he savored the opportunity to meet her eyes. "I've got all day tomorrow to fish a it's my day off." His tongue loosened as he stared, locked in contact with her beautiful blue eyes. It was so easy to remember them flashing with fierceness that day deep in the mountains, then with soft concern later that night as she'd made meals for her pack. "You're welcome to come along a I could show you all the best fishing holes on the mountain." He was grasping at straws and he knew it a after all, she might not want to go fishing. Generally, bear shifters loved fishing ... but she wasn't a bear.

"That sounds great." She smiled, kindling a spark of satisfaction inside him.

A horn blared loudly from somewhere behind the truck.

The light was green. Ronnie pressed a foot to the accelerator. How long had it been since the traffic light had changed? Long enough that another driver had become annoyed enough to express their feelings a on this packed tourist road, that probably meant he'd been idling at the green light for two seconds, three tops. He proceeded down the road, unconcerned.

"Have you ever fished before?" He glanced at Violet.

"A few times when I was a kid," she replied.

That seemed like a shame a there was probably some spectacular fishing to be done in Alaska. But she wasn't a bear, so he couldn't really blame her for not taking advantage of the opportunity. Bears and wolves were different a he knew that. It was just that when he was with Violet, it didn't usually feel that way. In fact, spending time alone with her would've been downright comfortable if it hadn't been for his relentless erection.

As he changed lanes, squeezing in between a sedan and another pick-up, his cock remained resolutely semi-hard, aching as he gripped the wheel and tried to let himself be distracted by the flashy tourist attractions and distant scenery a anything that might keep thoughts of tasting and touching her at bay. Every once in a while he let himself have a sideways glance at her. His mouth grew drier every time he looked. Somehow, he couldn't think of anything to say a at least, not anything appropriate. And the silence became more tense with each passing second. "Right," he finally said, as if that meant anything.

His next sideways glance revealed Violet flashing a small smile in his direction. Pulling his gaze from the perfect cupid's bow of her lips required supreme force of will, and when he succeeded he didn't dare look away from the busy stream of traffic again, for safety's sake.

Until her stomach growled anyway, a low rumbling that was unmistakable inside the truck's silent cab.

"Hungry?" he asked, noticing a hollow feeling in his own middle for the first time. He hadn't eaten since noon a normally, he would've started thinking about dinner as soon as he'd clocked out after his shift, but thoughts of Violet had left no room for other cravings, even hunger.

"Yeah, I guess I am." She laughed, sounding nervous. "I was too busy getting ready for my interview to eat lunch."

"Would you like to get something to eat?" For the first time, he began to eye the passing buildings with appraising interest. There were restaurants a dozens upon dozens of them, all places where he might spend an extra hour or so with Violet. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

"Sure, I mean, if you're hungry too."

"Sure," he echoed her, resisting the urge to veer off the street and into the nearest parking lot. Upon closer inspection, it looked like some kind of burger stand boasting an awning and a few outdoor tables. He could do better than that. "What kind of food do you like?"

"I'm not picky."

"There's an Italian place coming up." It loomed a couple hundred yards ahead, its red and white sign calling to him like a siren. Everyone liked Italian food, right? And the restaurant's pillared entrance even looked sort of romantic a especially compared to a hamburger stand.

"Sounds good, as long as it's nothing too fancy." She plucked at her pant leg. "I'm not exactly dressed to the nines."

"You look fantastic," he said, "and don't worry a tourists pour in and out of these restaurants in t-shirts and jeans all day." She did look fantastic a beautiful and classy, someone no tourist could possibly hope to hold a candle to, whatever she wore.

She didn't say anything. Could she tell how difficult it was for him to resist staring? He guided the truck off the street, taking the first empty space he found in the Italian restaurant's parking lot.

They crossed the pavement together and he was aware of her every step and movement a even the way she tucked a lock of chocolate-brown hair behind her ear a as they approached the restaurant. When they entered, a hostess greeted them with a polite smile. "Table for two?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, aware that people were staring. At 6'4" and bulky besides, people often looked twice in his direction, especially when he wore his uniform. But as he towered over the petite hostess, following her to a table, the stares weren't meant for him. Surely not. Who'd waste time looking at him when Violet was at his side? The restaurant's subdued lighting complimented her features, casting shadows with soft edges, much like the light of a Smoky Mountain sunrise. His pulse hammered at the thought of waking up beside her and studying her pretty face as it was bathed in the golden light that fell through his bedroom windows each morning. Maybe dinner had been a bolder suggestion than he'd realized.

"This is nice," Violet said after the hostess seated them. "The scents coming from the kitchen are amazing."

"Yeah." He sat across from her like an idiot, tongue-tied as the diners that surrounded them made easy conversation with each other. Why couldn't he make small talk like that a why couldn't he keep his thoughts in the here and now instead of imagining what it would be like to wake up beside her? As he met her eyes, he felt like an animal despite the fact that he was in his human form.

"What can I get you to drink?"

He didn't notice the waitress until she spoke, standing just a couple feet from his elbow.

"Water, please." It might have been romantic to have a glass of wine with Violet, but he couldn't do that in his uniform, and he might be laying it on too thick anyway. After all, she'd only asked him to drive her to a job interview.

"I'll have the same," Violet said.

While they waited for their food to arrive, he managed to make a little light conversation, most of it centering around the cabin addition he'd been helping Jack build. It was easy to talk about construction and the baby Jack and Mandy were expecting, though a dangerous undercurrent whirled through his thoughts, presenting him with images of him and Violet living together in his cabin, maybe having a family of their own someday.

He was getting way, way ahead of himself. What were the odds of a wolf and a bear being destined mates? A voice in the back of his mind supplied a steady stream of doubt and it combined with his hopes, causing his stomach to ball up. He wanted her to be the one a he wanted it bad. Maybe too badly for his own good.

When the food came a lasagna for him and tortelloni with braised short ribs for her a it didn't provide as much distraction as he'd hoped. It was hot and tasty, but as he cut away a cheese-laden bite with his fork, he couldn't help but recall that bloody October night when Violet had come out of Jack's cabin balancing several heaping paper plates. She'd doubled them up to make them easier to carry and to prevent the maple syrup from soaking through, but Ronnie's plate had been just about saturated anyway by the time he'd been able to stop working and take time to eat.

Still, he'd savored the meal, holding the slightly-warm plate in his hands and imagining that it was Violet's heat that warmed his fingers, not the food. And maybe it had been a his pancakes had been fairly cold by then, chilled by the autumn night.

He'd devoured them anyway, eager to taste something she'd made and wanting even more badly to taste her. Cold and syrup-saturated or not, the pancakes and eggs had warmed him from the inside out and not a day had gone by since then that he hadn't imagined what it would be like to share his kitchen with her each morning. He could even cook for her, or they could make breakfast together a it didn't matter. He just couldn't shake the idea of having her to himself, of getting to know the she wolf who was somehow so fierce and so caring, not to mention modest. Too modest, even. The more he got to know her, the more obvious it became that she underestimated herself.

"How's your lasagna?"

"It's great." He took a long drink of his water, hoping it would cool the heat that flared up inside him each time she spoke or even looked in his direction. "How's your meal?"

"Delicious. I'll have to tell the others about this place."

The others. Her pack was like her family, much as his tribe was to him. Thinking of them reminded him of the differences between himself and Violet. Differences that didn't seem so important when he thought about the qualities he admired in her, but might just throw sand on the flame of attraction between them anyway. His next mouthful of water tasted strangely bitter and left him aching for sweetness strong enough to chase it away a sweetness he might just find on her perfect lips.

Find out more about A Taste of Honey and the Half Moon Shifters Series at...

www.ranaerose.com.

end.