Shifter’s Surrender (9 page)

When Kaylie walked through the front door of Thirio’s Keep, Dean nearly sighed with relief. He’d been more upset than he’d realized about canceling their date. Even amidst this morning’s irritation of finding his office ransacked, thoughts of Kaylie and spending time with her had kept him from slashing out at everyone. But then there was the incident with the poison ivy and Fred’s youngest son, which had caused his cook to flee for home at a second’s notice. Dean had felt a spurt of envy, not for the pain Fred’s young son was going through, but for having a family to run home to. Then Scott, his bartender and manager, had tried to help out in the kitchen and instead had slipped on a broken bottle of hot sauce and twisted his ankle. While Scott was a shifter and would recover quickly enough, he currently lacked the ability to work the bar with any speed, a detriment on a busy Friday night. Dean had sent him home and had taken over behind the bar, keeping one eye glued to the front door.

Dean knew he should have told Kaylie no, he didn’t need help, even though he unquestionably did. He could just as easily have called any one of his pack members, and they would have come running to his aid, but, truth be told, he really wanted to see Kaylie again. Especially after the day he’d had.

When he’d first seen the disaster of his office this morning, he’d had an intense need to call Kaylie. Not because he’d thought she done it, but because he’d wanted her support. And Kaylie, being Kaylie, would have come to him in a heartbeat. He had to strengthen his resolve to hold her at arm’s length, despite their bet. Damn. That stupid bet. If he wasn’t careful, he would find himself falling for her. He already loved her smile, her witty comments, and her passion.

When Kaylie finally walked in, he noticed not as a business owner, but as a man. Not even as a man, truth be told, but as a shifter scenting out its mate. Relief was first, then he was hit with a sharp stab of possessiveness. She may look the same as she had any day this week, dressed in casual jeans and a loose, long-sleeve shirt with a black leather jacket and sneakers, but Dean saw beyond that. He knew what was hidden underneath those clothes. He knew what burned below her soft skin. Heat, passion, and a burgeoning sexual abandon that he wanted to coax into a full-on raging inferno.

His blood quickened as she neared, and he had to make a conscious effort to loosen his grip on the beer glass he placed in front of a waiting customer. Hoping his expression didn’t betray the desire building inside him, he sent her a careful smile. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

Kaylie grinned and leaned her forearms on the bar, bringing her beautiful face, and sweet lips, within touching distance. When his eyes dropped down to those lips, he was disconcerted by the barely audible growl that reverberated in the back of his throat.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Just making sure you appreciate all my talents.”

Another growl wanted to leap out but he covered it with a cough. “So, how’d you know?”

She shrugged. “You know this town. Any and all news travels like wildfire.”

Before Dean could respond, Lara Powers popped her tray on the bar and began to give a drink order. “I need two pitchers of beer, five glasses, a Bloody Mary extra hot, and a Snakebite. They also want four orders of wings, two hot and two medium, which they asked about earlier. They want to know if we’re going to serve food or not. I can tell the males are posturing, trying to act tough, and frankly, I want to smack them. Would you might terribly if I do?”

Dean turned his eyes to the table in question and found a mix of seven young male and female shifters, barely old enough to drink, looking his way with matching expressions of shock. Evidently they hadn’t noticed their Alpha behind the bar.

Irritated at their lack of respect, patience, and most importantly, the stupidity they’d shown in not scoping out their surroundings and seeing who was where—necessary for shifter survival—Dean slowly straightened, never taking his disapproving gaze from the younger shifters. Quick enough for a neck to snap, they all turned away and focused on the scarred wooden table. Then one of the females slapped the nearest male on the shoulder and they all started talking at once.

Dean made note of who was at the table and then slid his eyes back to Lara. “Should the need arise again, I’ll handle any smacking. For now, let them know that while our volunteer cook has arrived, I’ll decide when they can have any food. In fact, their drinks can wait while I show Kaylie the kitchen.”

“Oh.” Lara turned expectant eyes to Kaylie. “You’re cooking? Not that I mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but have you done this before? I thought you were a vet?”

Taking no offense, Kaylie quirked her lips. “I’ve helped out at Dolen’s Cafe more than a few times when the need arose.”

“Oh! That’s right. You’re Ruth’s daughter. Of course you can cook! This will be a snap for you; it’s simple fair and only a few choices.”

Another waitress came up behind Lara. “What’s with the traffic jam?”

Lara turned to the tiny blonde. “Kaylie’s here to cook, Liz.”

Liz closed her eyes in evident relief. “Thank God ‘cause the boys in the back,” she pointed a manicured thumb over her right shoulder to the far end of the bar where a bunch of male shifters milled around three pool tables, “are getting hungry. And a bunch of hungry male shifters are crankier than a bunch of women on their period.”

At Dean’s wince Kaylie snorted with shocked glee. “I’d better get started then. Uhm, Dean, you’re busy out here,” she nodded down to the other end of the bar where three newcomers had just made their way through the maze of tables. “If either Lara or Liz could take five to show me the kitchen I’d appreciate it.”

Though he didn’t want to, Dean couldn’t deny the logic in Kaylie’s statement. Because of the frustration eating away at him, his tone was a sharp and biting. “Take her on back, Lara. Like I said before, your table can learn patience, or they can leave.”

“Tough love, right on,” Lara said. “If you’ll follow me Kaylie?”

Kaylie winked at Dean before following Lara into the kitchen. When the door swung shut behind her rounded ass, the sweet behind his hands itched to grab hold of, he turned back to the bar and began filling out orders.

As the night progressed he found himself distracted with thoughts of Kaylie. Though he tried not to think of her, he was somehow aware of her every move, despite the wall separating them. And every time the kitchen door swung open, her scent tempted his control. He’d like nothing better than to close the bar down early so he could haul her in his arms, get her naked, and lose himself in her body.

He shook his head at his rampant thoughts.

You are not hooked,
he told himself.
It’s just the mating heat that’s making you irrational.

Feeling somewhat justified, he turned his attention back to the chore of cleaning glasses and pouring drinks.

At one point in the night Lara laid a huge hamburger on the bar back next to the cash register. “Kaylie said you need to eat and keep your strength up.” And though there was a laughing question in her eyes, Lara didn’t add her own comment, just went back to attending to her tables.

Surprised, and thoroughly pleased at the thoughtful gesture, Dean snatched up the burger, cooked rare just as he liked, and finished it in five bites.

When the time came for last call, anxious to get everyone out, Dean may have rung the bell and announced the bar’s pending closure with a bit more gusto than usual. But he really didn’t give a damn. He was both exhausted and wired. His control near the snapping point. The worst of it was he knew Kaylie had to be equally exhausted, having worked all day and then cooked all night for his bar. As demanding as the mating heat was, she could easily be too beat to do more than head home to sleep. He hoped not, but if she was, he had to let her go. No shifter took their mate without full consent. Of course subtle persuasion, or overt seduction, was not out of order.

Like clockwork, Liz’s husband, David, strolled in just before one with their two-year old son on his hip. They settled in their usual stool at the end of the bar. Dean set a glass of water in front of them and chatted for a bit. Not for the first time, Dean noticed how intensely David watched his young wife move about the bar, his shifter eyes warm with love and more than a hint of pride and possession. But for the first time, Dean felt envious. Not only of the shared adoration the couple clearly felt for one another, but for the cherished tot that bounced with joy on his father’s lap.

After what felt like an eternity, the last customer was out the door, the tables cleaned, money counted, and both Lara and Liz headed for home. Heart pounding, Dean turned to the kitchen. Kaylie was still in there and from the sound of it, cleaning up after the evening’s feeding frenzy. At Thistle’s it wasn’t that the fare was difficult to make, it was the shear amount required to satisfy shifter hunger. With their high metabolisms shifters ate continuously, plowing through food as if they were starving on a daily basis. He himself had consumed a second double-stacked burger not long ago. But now he had another hunger that demanded to be fed.

Not wanting to frighten Kaylie with the fierce need raging in his blood, he tried to school his features into a friendly expression, though he couldn’t hide the hunger in his eyes.

Dean found her wiping down the sinks, her back to him, and he couldn’t stop from stalking up and wrapping his arms around her waist. He drew her back against him and she nestled right in. Pleased, he said, “Thank you for doing this.”

She sighed. “I forgot how much shifters eat. It’s amazing.”

Dean pressed his nose against her damp temple, breathing her in. “You’re amazing.”

Laughing, Kaylie said, “And you owe me.”

He swung her around, fisting his hand at the back of her shirt to keep her tight against his body. “Name your payment.”

Kaylie slid her hands up and over his shoulders, twining them around his neck. “I think a full body massage is in order.” Then she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him.

His body jerked at the contact, the instant blaze of need that engulfed him. His brain, his senses, were filled with the taste of her. As the kiss deepened and threatened to spin him out of control, he pulled back. “Then a massage you shall have. Come with me.”

Taking her hand, he led her up a stairway that connected to his apartment over the bar. “There’s an exterior entrance as well so I don’t always have to go through the bar. It’s a convenience feature I added when I bought the place.”

“You’re quite handy,” Kaylie responded, moving in front of him as he unlocked and opened the interior door. “But not big on interior design.”

Dean shrugged, noting the lack of furnishings in his place. It was clean but sparse. The small living room held a couch and TV. A table and two chairs sat in the tiny kitchen. There was a minuscule three-quarter bathroom situated across the short hallway from a little bedroom crammed with a desk, chair, computer, printer, and two large filing cabinets. The master bedroom was bigger because Dean had knocked down a wall between the original master and a third bedroom to give himself more space. Even so, the king-sized bed, dresser, and mismatched nightstand nearly filled the room. At the foot of the bed sat a large, battered, black steel trunk. An adjoining full and updated bathroom was situated next to the sliding doors of his closet.

“I’m not here much except to sleep so I never bothered.”

Kaylie made a short humming noise in her throat as her eyes flitted around the room. “I can see that,” she mused out loud as she set her purse on the trunk. Then, much to Dean’s amazement and pleasure, she stripped off her clothes until she stood clad in only a blue-lace bra and matching thong.

“Christ,” Dean growled out an unsteady breath.

“Well, you can’t very well give me a proper massage if I’m fully clothed, now can you?” She sent him a flirty little smile over her shoulder before giving him a brief and enticing view of her rounded ass as she crawled on all fours over the covers. She lay on her belly. “I’m ready.”

And so was he. His cock was so hard Dean didn’t know if he could manage any movement whatsoever without coming in his jeans. For a moment he studied her. He now knew how soft her sun-kissed skin was, and his palms itched to smooth over her bared flesh. As his eyes drifted over her prone form his breathing grew rapid, which only put him more on edge as each lungful was saturated with the intoxicating scent of Kaylie’s arousal.

Take
, his beast howled.

The tingle at the tips of his fingers warned Dean that his claws were threatening to emerge. He desperately needed a minute to reign in his libido before he did something he would regret. He had enough regret already.

Through a throat gone bone dry he managed to push out, “Just a minute,” before hightailing it on stiff legs into the bathroom. He shut the door and turned on the cold water in the sink, splashing it on his face to help cool the burning flesh. The reflection showed green eyes that had too much amber bleeding into their depths. The beast was close, wanting its mate, and Dean was tempted to just let himself go, let the beast take over.

“No,” he said aloud. That was not him, nor was it his wolf. Neither man nor animal would ever hurt its mate. She was too precious. That evil voice in his head was his anger and self-contempt, and that needed to be squashed. Tonight was about Kaylie and what he could do to please her.

At the image in his mind’s eye of Kaylie lying so trustingly on his bed, the amber faded from his physical eyes, and the rage began to dissipate.

Dean felt the change and, recognizing it for what it was, spoke to his image in the mirror. “There’s no denying she’s good for you, for us. But don’t even think about keeping her.” His wolf disagreed, and Dean felt the beast take a swipe with sharp claws. Great. Now he was going to have to fight both his beast’s possessiveness and his body’s desire to keep Kaylie near.

But taking our mate is what we are meant to do. Take her, protect her, and love her.

With a silent curse, Dean yanked on the hot tap and ran the water over his hands, knowing that Kaylie would probably jump two feet if he touched her with freezing cold hands.