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    Rabbit Trails: Sweet Briar Farm, #1
    Rabbit Trails: Sweet Briar Farm, #1
    Rabbit Trails: Sweet Briar Farm, #1
    Ebook157 pages2 hours

    Rabbit Trails: Sweet Briar Farm, #1

    By Hollis Shiloh

    2/5

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    About this ebook

    Logan is a lonely, nervous rabbit shifter — until he meets teasing, gentle Gabe.  He's so drawn to Gabe that he's frightened about what that means for him.  Gabe might be funny and sweet, but he's also friends with wolves, and he has his own sadness beneath the goofy surface.  Can they make a relationship work?  Do they even dare try?

    31,000+ words 
    sweet gay romance 
     

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSpare Words Press
    Release dateNov 10, 2016
    ISBN9781540182876
    Rabbit Trails: Sweet Briar Farm, #1

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      Book preview

      Rabbit Trails - Hollis Shiloh

      Rabbit Trails

      by Hollis Shiloh

      It was just a meal, a wander-around-the-room, free range sort of meal.  It wasn't going to hurt anything or cost me anything.  I could even stuff my pockets for later.

      Sahil Singh smiled at me.  He was the guy who'd invited me.  He was kind of short, like me, and nice.  He was quiet, with dark skin and warm eyes.  I felt comfortable with him.  He didn't move too quickly, he didn't raise his voice, and he was confident but calm.

      The rest of the room?  Not so much.  My gaze travelled around all the tall people, mostly white, mostly really tough looking.  They were eating a lot — shifters almost always do — and sort of posturing.  Most of them were wolves, a fox here and there.

      There were no other rabbit shifters in the room.  Just me.

      Sahil saw me and smiled big, lifting his fingers in a little wave.  He detached himself from his partner's — and husband's — side and moved over, taking my arm gently.  Thank you for stopping by.  I hope you know the room at our place is still open. 

      Sharing a home with a predator?  No thanks.  I glanced at Grant Ralstead, the predator in question, but he wasn't looking at me, just staring at his husband with warm, soppy eyes.  They were married and everything, so it was okay to be gay here.  But . . . I was the only non-predator shifter in the room.  Even the humans looked pretty predatory to me, frankly.

      I shivered a little and backed away.  Sahil stopped.  He didn't tug at me, but waited to see what I wanted to do.  He looked at me, lifting a brow gently. 

      You want to eat, or you want to go? he asked quietly.

      I want to eat.  But . . .  I shuddered.  Maybe quickly.  Sometimes it was scary to be short and dark-skinned in a room of big, tough-looking white men.  It was definitely scary being the only bunny in a room of predators.

      Okay.  He patted my arm and released me.  You want me to run interference? 

      His big, wolf-shifter husband was looking over at him, his smile growing warmer, looking like he was going to come over here any second. 

      That's okay, I said quickly.  I'm not staying long.

      All right, agreed Sahil, his eyes on his husband as well, like they were mesmerizing each other.  Then he gave all of his attention to me, searching my face, checking to see if I was okay.  You sure?  I don't want to make things harder.

      It's . . . you're not.  I edged away from him and towards the long tables laden with food.  There was a lot to pick from.  I really was starved.  I kept away from the areas with lots of meat and moved towards the fresh things and pastries.

      I loaded up a plate full of salad things and poured dressing on, going heavy because I like a lot.  I shoved a bunch of carrot and celery sticks on the side of the plate, hoping they wouldn't fall off.  I didn't want to have to take a bunch of trips back for more.  I was so hungry, and there was a great-looking little patio outside.  I could eat out there.

      I shoved a few extra carrot sticks in my pocket for later because yeah, sue me, I'm a bunny.  I like carrots.  Then the sweets table: rich desserts like chocolate cake, powdered donuts that smelled like they were hot from the fryer, and a ton of pastries, cookies, and ice cream.  My eyes gleamed, and I grabbed some chocolate chip cookies, shoving them into my baggy trouser pockets without a second thought.  There really was no more room on my plate.

      I guess I wasn't paying attention, because I didn't notice the guy till I almost bumped into him.  He coughed, and grinned at me.  He wasn't much taller than me, which made him pretty short in this room full of huge people.

      He grinned, arching an eyebrow, and shoved a big pastry wrapped in a napkin into his trouser pocket.  Cop or shifter? he asked, like he was making conversation, the way someone would say at a wedding, bride or groom?

      I just shrugged, shoving a cookie into my mouth, chewing fast the way I did when I was nervous, my nose maybe wrinkling a little.  You?

      His grin spread cockily across his face.  You're a shifter, then.  They never want to admit it.

      He turned and walked down the row again, unrepentantly stealing all the good stuff, some of it piling high on his precarious plate and some shoved into his cargo pants pockets.  I mean, you could totally see it: the bulges were getting huge.

      So you're a cop?  I found myself following him indignantly.

      Yeah, well.  He shrugged, fake cool.  Somebody's gotta save the day. 

      I made a little disgusted gasp as he took the best blueberry tart, ate half of it in one bite, and balanced it on top of his already huge mountain of food.

      Hey, you're one to talk, he said, glancing back at me and gesturing to my plate with his slightly blueberry-stained hand. 

      Most of this is salad.  And I was invited by Sahil himself!  I stood as indignantly tall as I could.  Which wasn't very.

      He snorted.  Skinny guy like you, I guess you do need feeding up.

      Hey!

      Oh, and nobody calls him by his first name.  It's always Singh, Sir, Commissioner Singh, or 'that bastard' if he's not within hearing.  But not around his husband, huh?  He winked at me.

      He was pissing me off, but I couldn't think of anything to say, so I said nothing, just grabbed a corn muffin and took a quick bite.  It tasted heavenly.  I closed my eyes for a moment, chewing.  Delicious. 

      I had been edgy for a while now, and it was hard to get enough to eat, working as a bike messenger.  The constant exercise and my shifter metabolism were draining, especially if I couldn't afford good stuff like this.  Sometimes I survived on cheap junk food and whatever was on sale at the market towards the end of the day.  Limp veggies were usually for sale at a cheaper price then.

      He was watching me when I opened my eyes.  What?  My scowl was instant and angry.  I might be used to being laughed at, but that didn't mean I liked it.

      Nothing, just . . . you're kind of cute.

      He grinned at the shocked look of surprised indignation on my face.  I didn't sputter, didn't say anything — but all the same he seemed amused.

      Relax, he said in an easy, lazy voice, his eyes narrowing slightly to friendly crinkled slits.  Just because a gay guy notices you're cute doesn't mean he's ready to jump your bones.

      I relaxed slightly.  Gay.  Okay.  Not mocking me — at least not totally.  Oh.

      Yeah.  But most of the shifters around here — cute isn't in it.  He gestured to the room at large.  I mean, you see cute here?  I see bodybuilders, weightlifters, guys who probably shave every few hours, and a couple of pretty ladies.  But the men aren't on the cute scale.

      Singh, I offered up, slightly skeptically.  He was older than me — and my new buddy — but he was still attractive.

      My eating partner cast me a quick glance, like he was weighing something.  I wouldn't say that in his husband's hearing.  He looked like he was trying to figure me out.  So you are a wolf?

      I looked aloof.  It was very instructive talking to you, I said coolly, not that he'd given me much chance to talk.  Try not to eat everything in sight.

      He laughed, a little snort-chuff sound.  I like you.  But you aren't a wolf, or you'd say so.

      Goodbye, person I'll never know the name of.  I headed out to the patio.  I had all the food I could carry anyway, although I would definitely have to come back for seconds if I got the chance.

      But I was enjoying myself, and I wanted him to follow.  I wanted to stand up taller in his presence, instead of hyperventilating and hiding and being scared.  Maybe because he was human, and not that much bigger than me, he didn't set off my inner predator warnings.

      He took longer than I expected to follow me, and when I saw him, I realized why.  He was carrying more food yet and talking to someone, but kind of like he wanted to be left alone.

      I'm just saying, I'm going to stay a little longer, he was telling this other guy seriously.  It's not a big deal.  You can go.

      The stranger loomed taller than him, with a big scowl on his face.  Yeah, well, you just . . . you sure?  He reached out to touch his arm gently, hovering there protectively.

      I'm sure.  He pushed the hand away carefully but firmly, and gave the big guy a tight smile. 

      If you need a lift, you can call me, okay?

      Okay, said my not-friend.  He waited till the guy was gone, looking back frequently, before his shoulders relaxed a little and his stance eased.

      When he turned back and looked around for me, he looked almost like he had while picking out his food, confident, with a rolling walk, easy in his own skin.  There was a faint hint of something in his face though, a wistfulness, like he wanted something he couldn't have.  I couldn't tell what exactly. 

      But I saw it change the exact moment he

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