“Correction”—I straighten my spine, glaring all three men down—“the thing that was supposed to be going on here was me picking up my friend for lunch.” I gesture at Warner. “But instead, I have to deal with”—unable to find a descriptor to apply to Ross, I simply let my disgust infuse the next word—“this.”

“You—” Ross begins.

“Yeah, me,” I cut him off. “I had your pathetic number the second you walked my way. You ever try hunting me again, and I’ll hit you with a face full of bear mace.”

“Bitch.” He bares his teeth, stepping forward.

There’s a growl and a sudden powerful presence at my back, but this is my fight, and I can’t back down. Growing up with four brothers made me tough. Or stupid. Jury is still out.

I pull my lips back from my own puny human teeth, getting up in his space yet again. “Try it, wolf. See what happens.”

Ross freezes mid-threatening move, his eyes growing wary.

“Back off.” The command cuts through the air between us, almost a wall. I’ve never heard Warner’s voice so deep and menacing before. His warm arm encircles my shoulders.

For a second, I’m furious, thinking his command is directed at me. But when I glance up, his glare is all for the asshole.

Good. Glad to know he doesn’t automatically side with his pack mates.

Ross opens his mouth, but a sharp throat clearing from the foreman has the young pup snapping his jaw shut.

“Back to work,” the older man says, aiming the words at Ross.

I think the guy might argue with his boss, but after a pause, he shrugs and stalks away.

“You’re Zoey Gunner.”

I meet the man’s intense gaze without flinching, giving him a brief nod.

“And you are …”

“Mason Jameson.”

My eyes flick to Warner, who offers a tight smile. “My uncle.”

“You look like your mother,” Mason offers.

The comment surprises me. In the past, I’ve only ever thought of how my complexion falls closer to my father’s. My mom is blonde-haired, blue-eyed, while Dad and I are brunettes with brown eyes. But I guess the residents of Pine Falls have only ever met one of the people who made me.

“Did you know her?”

Warner’s uncle shrugs, then walks away, his gait unhurried but still containing an air of authority.

The tension of the moment lingers.

Warner is the first to pierce it. “Did you tell Ross he’s a bad fuck?”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah. If you and your uncle hadn’t shown up, he probably would’ve pulled up a list of references.”

The excitement of the construction site having worn off, I pivot and start back toward my truck. Even though most people would say I won that confrontation, I still feel gross. The leering weight of Ross’s eyes left an invisible residue on my skin.