Oh, his mate was cold.
Marcus smiled at the human sitting beside Shaya on the porch swing. “Hey, Stone.” Though Shaya’s father was tall and burly, he reminded Marcus a lot of Jack Nicholson—a slow-dawning Cheshire Cat smile, a gravelly drawl, and an easy, confident posture. A person only had to take one look at Stone Critchley’s neat, smart appearance to know that he valued precision and control.
“Marcus, good to see you.” Standing, Stone clasped his hand. “Always a pleasure to see you, Roni. I hear that you’ve mated. Congratulations. It’s good to see a couple that actually suit.”
Shaya winced at the sharp dig, though she looked amused. “Dad . . .”
Tone indulgent, he asked, “Yes, baby girl?” She just shook her head.
Nick, from where he was leaning against the wall, scowled at Roni. “You invited him, didn’t you?”