“Human.”

“Then I wasn’t asleep, was I, Scooby?”

She arched her brow at the insult. Wolves didn’t like to be compared to dogs and to refer to them as a cartoon dog known for his lack-witted antics usually resulted in a fight.

The fact the blond wolf didn’t attack over it corroborated Fang’s ferocity in a way nothing else did.

Fang shifted his weight and pulled his sunglasses off as if trying to be respectful of Aimee’s presence-something that seemed incongruous to her and yet… these wolves were nothing like what she expected.

And his eyes…

They were a gorgeous brown with a hint of rust in them. Yet it was the pain and intelligence inside them that reached out to her. A pain that seemed boundless.

Yawning, Fang scratched at the thick whiskers on his face. “Though it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

The youngest wolf-pup came up to her. “Let me help you with that.”

“I’ve got it,” she said gently, surprised by how well mannered these wolves were. The ones she’d run into in the past had been from the lowest rung of the evolutionary scale.

As soon as the tray was down, they all took their drinks without waiting for her to hand them out.

Vane took her towel and wiped the tray dry before he held it out to her.

Aimee smiled at him. “Thank you.” It was actually disconcerting to see wolves who appeared this rough having manners. She wasn’t sure how to deal with them.

As she started away, the one named Fang stopped her with a gentle touch. “You dropped this.” He bent down to pick up her pad that must have fallen out of her apron pocket.

As he stood up, she became aware of exactly how large a man he was. Not beefy like the bears she was used to, he was lean.

And he was ripped. Solid like taut steel.

“Thanks.”