Shifting the Night Away (48 page)

“You’re being a creeper, Mr. Baron Wyatt.”

“I didn’t think you’d show.” He angled his arm so she could loop hers through. The sweet thing wore a sleeveless blue sundress, one that had no chance of obscuring her ample bosom. He hadn’t anticipated the ferocity with which heat popped off her skin and into his. Apparently, neither had she. She tried to pull back, but he folded his arm down and snapped his teeth. “Gotcha.”

“Creeper.”

“Why’s that? Because I see something I like and I don’t want it to get away?”

“I have your number. You forced it on me, remember?”

“You wouldn’t have used it.”

“You don’t know that.” But her smile slipped. She recovered it quickly enough, but not so fast that he didn’t spot the doubt there.
 

“I’m going to enjoy proving myself worthy of you, Ms. Johanna.”

She snorted – actually snorted – and grinned. “I look forward to seeing you try.”
 

“Now that, I do believe.”

The buzzer went off behind them as another group of workers left for the day. Whatever reservations she might have had about him paled under the scrutiny of company. Johanna leaned into him when the bitchy Belinda swooped in.
 

“Hiya, Baron. Came back to see me? We should talk. I’ve heard so little about you.”

“I’m a private man.”

“Don’t be. A few of us are going out for drinks. Would you like to join us?”

He took a moment to reset the scene: Middle of town, people going by and he could have heard a damned pin drop. He and Johanna may have been the wolves, but her coworkers hovered like a committee of bloodthirsty vultures.

“No, thank you,” Johanna said, voice muzzled by his side.

“Exactly. No way would we miss this opportunity and thank you for asking.” He dropped her arm in exchange for her waist – definite upgrade – and half pushed, half dragged her along. He sniffed again, catching more than anger, but fear. What the hell? “Johanna—”

“I didn’t exactly correct what you told them.” She said it in a voice just for his ears.

“Right. So, we’ve dated for some time then?”

“Years. You started it and I’m sorry. Okay? When we sit down, we can pretend it was a joke that got out of hand.”

“That’s your plan?”

“Do you have a better one?”

He pulled her close and accidently brushed his lips against her ear.
 

Then he accidently flicked his tongue across the top of it.

And bit the lobe. Accidently.

He should stop this. The logical part of him knew that, but damn him, he enjoyed her. Life had dealt him a string of messed up cards. This week was the first good hand he’s had in ages. He’d play it. “I think we should put on a good show for your boss.”

“No!”

“C’mon? When was the last time you had fun? I need fun. I’ve left behind my pack and my family for this new town. I don’t know anyone here. I’m about to sign a loan for a crap ton of money and the one bright spot I have, is that my lips are touching you. Don’t you want them to touch you?”

“No.”

“Your lying is both pathological and unnecessary. Look, I smell it. I could pick you up, throw you over my shoulder and kiss you until…”

“I have mace. And a knife.”

“I’m a wolf.”

“So am I.”

“See? This is fun.”

He bit back a smile at another one of her cute snorts.

Wait.
Cute?
He’d never described anything as cute a day in his life. Ugh! She kept this up and she’d have him giggling on the phone with his sisters. If this was a mating AND if this was what mating did to a man, it sucked.

“You’re being a real champ about this. Thanks, Baron.” Johanna squeezed his arm to her chest and shot him a smile that was…well…
cute
.
 

 
He didn’t tell her that, a wolf had his pride, but he didn’t even try to wipe the smile from his face. Then again, neither did she.
 

The group crossed a final street and dipped into an Irish themed sports pub. This could have been an opportunity to scope out his competition, but the inquisition started the second his left ass cheek hit the chair.
 

Belinda slid out of her business jacket with all the grace of a black widow shedding her shell. “So how did you two meet again?”

He kept it quick. “Back home.”

“But this is her home.”

“My home. Montana.”

“Interesting. She’s never mentioned Montana before, or even you at all. I wonder why that is.”

“She’s mentioned a thing or two about you, lady. So far as I can tell, they’re all true.”

The bitch blinked like a deer in headlights, while Johanna side-kicked him beneath the table. He laid off, but didn’t break eye contact with Belinda, daring her to say something else.

She didn’t. The woman’s menu snapped open and shielded her face. Belinda didn’t speak again until the waiter arrived and she ordered drinks for the now silent table.
 

Baron tossed a finger in the air before the waiter pulled away and pointed to Johanna. “She hasn’t had a chance to tell you what she wanted.”

Belinda shushed him. “I ordered a round of margaritas for the table. You’re welcome.”

He wasn’t used to being shushed.

He didn’t like being shushed.

He wouldn’t stand to be shushed. Especially not by her.

“Yes, but Johanna didn’t order what she wanted. Dear?”

“Rum and cola.”

Belinda’s eyes crinkled. She tapped the table, obviously determined to cement her place at the head of it. In an obnoxiously loud whisper, she asked, “Are you sure you don’t want a diet drink? You’ve been working on that last twenty pounds for ages.”

Oh, hell no.

“What did you say to her?”

“It’s fine, Baron.”

Belinda shimmied back into her seat and rested her elbows on the table. “I didn’t mean anything by it. But you’ve…well…you know...”

“Then why did you say it?”

 
“She’s my boss,” Johanna whispered.

“Quit,” he shot right back, answering on the same non-human level. After sending the waiter away with an updated order of two rum and colas, he waited for Belinda to apologize but apparently, she wasn’t raised that way.
 

It put him in a weird situation. It wasn’t his place to set some woman straight for a woman he’d just met. He had an overwhelming urge to protect Johanna and yet, an intense desire to see her stand up for herself. She could take out any one of them. Where was her wolf?

Belinda flipped her hair and cackled out a thin laugh. “You’re so sensitive. But, um, for the sake of conversation, can you better explain how it was that you two—”

“Excuse us.” He rose without waiting for a response, pulled out Johanna’s chair and led her to the bar area. “If I stay, it’ll be bad. I’m sorry if what I said puts you in a weird position, but that woman is a piece of work.”

“I know and thank you.”

He caught the waiter and grabbed their drinks from his tray. “These two are separate. I’ll be sick if I owe that woman anything.” He took a long swig before addressing Johanna again. “I’m happy to hear you don’t hate me.”

Johanna took three massive gulps of her own. “Well, you’re not Belinda.”

“That’s not setting the bar too high. Why do you let her talk to you like that?”

“She signs the checks.” Another gulp.

“I’m pretty sure a corporate office in NYC signs them. You want to slow down there?”

Another long swig. “Nope and same difference.” She winked at him, took
his
glass from
his
hands and started drinking it.

For the next ten minutes, her mouth opened up more to drink than to talk. She also spent way too much time looking over his shoulders toward the table of her coworkers.
 

“I’m so pissed that I can’t even bring up how hot you are working that straw. And you just stole my drink. Add that to the list of reasons I hate your boss. How can you shrug her off?”

“My mother’s like that. And my sister. Well, one of them. The other was smart enough to leave as soon as she could. After a while, you get used to people telling you what to do.”

“A lack of self-worth ain’t attractive.”
 

Johanna’s chin dropped to her chest. The pretty thing’s whole face fell. She picked the skin around her nails and looked as if she wanted to jump into her glass. Great. He was acting no better than the rest of them. That look on her face had to go. But why couldn’t she understand how much power she had? There wasn’t a single thing on Earth stronger than a she-wolf. He just had to help her figure that out. “You need to learn how to take control.”

“It’s fine. Really, it is.”

“Tell you what. You get to tell me what to do. Your way, your rules.”

She blinked, shook her head and blinked again. “What does that mean?”

“Calm down. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not trying to get chained and have my balls squashed. I’m just saying that I know I came on heavy and from here on out, you lead the way.”

“You still want to do this? Even after all this craziness?”

“That I started? Do you remember why I started it? Because you smell like something that deserves to be licked from head to toe.”

“So do it. Right now. Right here.”

It’d been a long time since a woman had him choking on his words. He could already picture it. “Darlin’ now may not be the best time. There’s no way that you’re already drunk...”

“I know that.”

“But you’re not exactly sober either. You’re just buzzed enough to go sit at that table and let Belinda know you’re not afraid of her.”

“Lick. Me.”

“Baby, I hear what you’re staying, but I think I need you one hundred percent sober when I do.”

She sat straight up, ordered a tequila shot and downed it in the span of thirty seconds. “You’re a liar. You told me you’d do whatever I asked.”

“Annnnnd you’re done.” Baron tabbed out and eased the last drink out of her hands. She didn’t exactly fight him, but he had to pry her fingers off the glass one by one. “We should go.”

“I’m going to give her a piece of my mind.”

“Johanna, I’m not sure it’ll be as effective with you slurring your words and stuff.”

“But you said—”

“My bad. That was a tequila ago and I think your fourth rum is finally catching up with you.”

“No ssss’not.”

He ignored her zombie shuffle and eased them over to the table where the praying mantis held court. All conversation stopped at their arrival. Only Belinda dared look him in the eye.

“We weren’t sure if you were coming back. We figured you needed some alone time and ordered without you. Tony, go get the waiter.”

“Don’t bother. We’re leaving.” Baron hoped everything about his expression told Belinda she could fuck off. Her look coded the message as received. Lines clearly drawn in the sand, he escorted a giggling Johanna out the door.

“Yes! Bitch. I don’t want to go home. And…and…you promised to do what I want. I want to go out. Take me to the club down the street. I want to dance. I never dance. Ten minutes. That’s it. What’s the harm in ten minutes?”

No harm for her, seeing as how he carried her drunk tail all the way over. He ought to take her home, but she laughed with such abandon that he couldn’t stand the loss of ending it.

Besides, maybe it was good they got this out of the way now, because he learned something very important over the next half hour.
 

She should never, ever, ever, dance again. Horrible. The worst. Her jerky movements were so god-awful that the only decent thing to do was swipe her phone and record the whole catastrophe from start to finish. Yet, even as the little light blinked red, she kickstepped and running-manned her way into his heart. When she turned around to do something that
might
be mistaken for twerking if he squinted hard enough, he deleted the recording. She was too happy for him to embarrass her with this later on.

Johanna sashayed her way off the dance floor with a lopsided grin and melted into the chair beside him. “This is fun. Where are we going next time?”

Certainly not dancing.
“I’m just glad there is a next time. I hope you remember tomorrow.”

“I’m actually not drunk. Well, not anymore. Ish.”

“Ish?”

“The dancing helped. And the gallons of water you’ve been forcing my way. Work is going to suck tomorrow.” She slid further and further into the chair until just her head was visible above the table.

“Ditto. I start renovations.”

She popped up, mouth hanging open. Lobster red was only way to describe her face. “Of course you do! This whole night has been about me. I’m so freaking rude. I do want to hear about it. You must think I’m the worst person ever.”

“No. I’ve met her. Her name’s Belinda.”