“You’re dirty.” I use my pointer finger to draw a twirl in the dust on his collarbone.

He swallows, his normally smiling mouth pulling into a grimace. That’s when I remember how sensitive he was about his grime at the mechanic’s shop.

I didn’t mean to insult him. I was only making an observation.

Just as we reach the table, I stop him from putting me down by gripping his face in my hands and capturing his mouth with mine. He groans, deep in his chest, his lips parting enough to allow me entry. My affectionate assault continues for a good minute or so before I end with quick kisses to the corners of his mouth and the tip of his nose.

“Do you know what I think about when I see you covered in dirt?”

He shakes his head, brow dipped warily.

I let all the heat in my thoughts shine from my eyes. “I imagine what you’ll look like later. When you get home. And step in the shower.” The image is clear in my mind. The water cascading over his broad shoulders, coursing down his bare skin. “How I wouldn’t mind an invite when it comes time to get you clean.”

“Fuck, Zoey,” Warner moans, sitting down on the bench with me in his lap. He buries his head in my neck, partially muffling his next words. “You can’t be saying things like that when I have to go back to work. I’m going to be sporting a partial for the rest of the day.”

Laughter bursts from my chest, and I pat his head as if he needs consoling. “Poor werewolf. I’m sorry. I promise to pretend like I don’t want to soap you up.”

He makes some adorable grumbling noises before giving me a gentle bite and pulling back.

“Besides, I’ll make for a poor shower companion with my arm wrapped in plastic.” I hold up my cast but regret the joke the moment I take in Warner’s face.

Like my brothers, he seems to think my fall is somehow his fault. Which is ridiculous. I’m the one who kept climbing up in the decades-old tree house.

But I remind myself that if any of them were injured in a freak accident, I’d also be upset, knowing they were in pain. So, I forgive their hovering.

For now.

“Burrito time. And don’t worry. Even though it broke my vegetarian heart, I got you one with beef.”

He smiles with a playful curve to his lips, joy pouring from his eyes.

I guess Warner loves burritos.

Sliding off his lap, I place the bag on the table and start pulling out all the sides.

“You know …” Warner trails off, hesitating.