Southern Shifters - Press Paws (Buchanan Clan #2) by Celia Kyle

figured neither were unavoidable. There had to be some sort of discussion about… about the dead body in the front yard. People would need to be called, statements taken, and then there was the question of Ryland being put in jail. No. That wasn’t happening. Over Hannah’s cold, dead body. She would call in every favor known to furland if she had to.
    “I know y’all are home,” a booming voice filtered through the door. “The dead cat is a giveaway.”
    Greer. She just had to remember he’d been reasonable when Carter killed a lion intent on murdering Bethany. Hopefully he’d be just as accepting now. Funny how the Buchanan family managed to screw things up when Bhric was gone.
    Ryland growled and she immediately sought to soothe him, palm stroking his cheek and fingers caressing the tense lines of his face.
    “Everything will be fine,” she whispered. She’d make it fine.
    Her mate grunted. “Right.”
    “C’mon.” She pushed to her feet and held out a hand, ready to help him rise. He gave her a look that said she was crazy if she thought he’d take her help.
    Men .
    Hannah padded toward the front door, intent on letting Greer inside. Being a good hostess—especially considering the circumstances—could only help them. Except the growl that came from her mate told her Ryland didn’t give a damn about being polite.
    “Clothes,” he barked at her.
    She glanced down at her body and it hit her that she was naked. “Ryland.” She rolled her eyes and turned. “We’re shifters—“
    “Clothes.” This time he snarled.
    “Fine.” With a grumble, she stomped toward the laundry room and rummaged through the basket. Freeing a baggy t-shirt and cotton shorts, she tugged them on. “Happy now?” His narrowed eyes told her he wasn’t, and the way he focused on her breasts then pussy told her why. “I’m not hunting up a clean bra and panties. Get over it.”
    Next, her thudding footsteps took her to the front door. Hand on the knob, she tightened her grip but paused before she turned it. A glance over her shoulder showed her that Ryland was still naked.
    “Clothes,” she barked at him this time, and he widened his eyes in surprise. “If I’m not allowed to be naked, you aren’t either.”
    Ryland rolled his eyes. “It’s not like Greer is gay.”
    “Clothes.” It was the principal of the thing.
    He reached into the laundry room and grabbed a pair of clean sweats folded atop the dryer and tugged them on. “Happy now?”
    “I’m fucking ecstatic. I’d be deliriously happy if you’d open the fucking door.” Greer’s booming snarl cut through the annoyance in the air and Hannah sighed.
    At least their tiny argument had distracted her a little while. Taking a deep bracing breath, she returned to the door. It took no time to turn the knob and allow the panel to swing wide to reveal an angry, bed-headed shifter.
    “What the hell?” That snarl remained in place, only to be joined by Ryland’s.
    “Don’t talk to her that way.”
    She glanced at her mate and sucked in a quick breath when silver fur emerged to coat his arms. So not good. She moved so her body remained between the two males. With the scent of Jeremy’s blood still coating his body and adrenaline gradually fleeing him, she had no doubt he was still very much on edge.
    “Hey.” She reached for Ryland, fingers skating over his chest. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
    Yellow eyes met hers, the hues transitioning from wolf to lion and back again. “He shouldn’t…”
    She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m fine. You’re fine. Take a deep breath.”
    Ryland jerked his head in a short nod and she gave him an extra few moments to get himself under control. When he looked like he wasn’t ready to kill the world any longer, she turned to face Greer. She retained the connection to her mate, her back to his front, but focused on the other male.
    “Greer.” She pasted a fake smile on her lips.