Max

by Terry Bolryder

But no one would bully Jackie, he reasoned. She wouldn’t allow it. Besides, she was quiet, didn’t look for attention. Despite being exactly what shifters were attracted to, he didn’t think she would let anyone talk to her or anything like that.

  Groaning, he couldn’t resist opening the door slightly in order to peek in.

  Amused hazel eyes stared back at him, making Max startle slightly.

  “Sorry, was just coming to check on you,” Benny said. “If you’re that worried about her, maybe you should put a cat cam on her as well.”

  “Maybe I should,” Max said sharply, without thinking. Then he put a hand through his hair, utterly abashed. What was he saying? He had no idea where that sudden wave of protective possessiveness had come from.

  Jackie was just a woman he’d met in an alley. They were taking care of a kitten together. She was as free to mingle in a club as anyone.

  But why did he just want to go home and curl up on the couch with her, watching a movie and taking care of the kitten? Why did he think he would enjoy talking with her with no one else around?

  Why did he feel that in some way, she was the only one he could allow into his lonely existence and that somehow they would fit together so well?

  He let out a growl as he turned back to the line again. Losing sleep taking care of Lionel was clearly affecting his thoughts.

  “Do you want to go in there?” Benny asked. “I don’t mind taking the line for a bit.”

  “What about the bar?”

  “Harley’s working it,” Benny said.

  Max rolled his eyes, wondering when Benny was going to do something about Harley’s crush on him. The girl would do practically anything for the big bear. “I’m fine.”

  “I guess that’s for the best, then,” Benny said. “After all, she and Lock seem to be hitting it off, and—”

  Max jolted upright. “What? Lock? How could you—”

  Benny put up both hands. “I know you don’t have a good opinion of him, but I assure you he wouldn’t—”

  “Watch the line.” Max snarled, shoving his way through the door and into the dark, crowded club. He knew he shouldn’t talk to Benny that way. He was, after all, his boss. But sometimes the entitled lion just rose in him, and heaven help anyone who got in his way.

  Especially if that person was a morally bankrupt wolf.

  Max glanced around the room and quickly realized they must be at the back, enjoying a drink. Not like Lock to be anywhere but the bar or the dance floor.

  Had Jackie figured out something about shifters? Did she need her memory erased? Because as Max approached the back table where Lock and Jackie were sitting, they both appeared to be casually talking, and Lock wasn’t really one to sit and talk.

  Max exhaled in relief that nothing seemed to be happening, until he got closer to the table and had a good look at Jackie. Her eyes were bleary, and there was a half-empty bottle of cider on the table.

  Lock’s glass appeared to be barely touched, but the way Jackie’s unruly curls had escaped their pins and the way she swayed slightly, he was pretty sure she’d made up for any of Lock’s lack of alcohol intake.

  “You bastard,” he growled, grabbing Lock by the collar and yanking him up out of the seat. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  Lock eyed him, amused. “Spending time with a pretty woman, obviously.”

  Max glared at the cider and Jackie’s drunk, slightly shocked expression. “And why were you trying to get her drunk?”

  Lock just shrugged in that infuriatingly casual manner of his. “I didn’t force it on her, merely offered. Some people like having fun, Max.”

  Max gave Lock a shove as he released him, causing him to stumble. “Yeah, well, go have fun somewhere else.”

  Lock stepped forward, straightening his jacket. “Watch it, Max. I know you don’t think a lot of me, but I’m no rapist. If I want a woman, there are plenty of willing ones, and I’d never have to resort to getting one drunk.”

  Max simply frowned at him, wanting to believe him but knowing he had, in fact, gotten Jackie drunk.

  Max folded his arms. “Just go.”

  “You should be grateful.” Lock frowned, a hard look in his eyes. “Just look around you. If it hadn’t been me, it would be someone else. So think about that next time you want to threaten me, because otherwise, I might just leave her to someone worse.” With a disgusted look, Lock pushed his way into the crowd, disappearing.

  “There is no one worse,” Max called after him, doubting Lock heard. But then Max became aware of other men watching, looking up to see them near the walls or the dance floor, studying sweet, drunken Jackie with hungry, interested eyes.

  Despite her slightly inebriated state, she seemed to be pretty happy at the moment and beamed up at him blearily.

  But perhaps Lock was right and she had simply wanted to drink. Nothing wrong with that really, except if she was going to be so… helpless looking, Max wanted to be there with her.

  Wanted to watch out for her in general. Wanted to—

  She blinked up at him. “Where’s Lock? Were you mean to him?”

  Max grimaced. “Maybe a bit.”

  “But why?” She held up a half-empty glass. “He was really nice to me.” She was about to take another sip when Max took the glass away from her, making her pout.

  “He’s not always nice,” Max muttered. Then again, perhaps the devil he knew was better than the one he didn’t, based on the way other shifters were still circling.

  There was something special about Jackie, and he doubted he was the only one to see it.

  “I’m not too drunk. I promise. Just a bit buzzed,” she said nervously, looking up at him.

  Tonight she looked beautiful. She’d put on some makeup, and her soft sweater was buttoned over a white tank that showed bountiful cleavage. He looked lower to see tight jeans and little booted heels.

  Sexy.

  He sighed. Human women could bring a lot of trouble, but they also were hot as hell. And this one needed to get out of the crowded club and sober up.

  Max reached a hand out to her. When she took it, he gathered her into his side and pushed his way through the club, ignoring jealous glances as he made his way out the door and into the fresh air.

  “Did you bring a car?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Well, you can’t drive it, so we’ll just leave it in the lot and head over to my place.”

  “Okay.” She seemed a little unsteady on her heels, so halfway back to his complex, he decided it would be easier to just carry her and bent to grab her behind the knees and pick her up in a princess hold.

  Big mistake.

  As soon as her soft, feminine, sweet-smelling body was fully supported by his arms, pressed against his chest, he felt his whole body go weak.

  “You don’t have to carry me, but I like it,” she said quietly, relaxing in his arms.

  Max had been trying to remain impervious, to see her as a friend, albeit an attractive one.

  But now his hands knew what she felt like, and his nose knew what she smelled like. And his heart knew just how good it felt to be trusted by him as she nuzzled her head into his chest.

  Chapter 8

  Something inside Max tightened painfully as he walked the rest of the way to his place and took her into his apartment. By the time he was able to deposit her on the couch and lock the door, he could barely breathe.

  As she curled up on the couch, looking comfy, he walked into the kitchen, wondering if he should pour himself a drink as well. This was all too much to handle sober.

  A small mew interrupted him, and he was almost grateful to have Lionel as a distraction. He hurried to the back bathroom where he kept Lionel’s crate and opened it to take out the little creature.

  He was just opening a can of kitten food when he heard someone at the doorway and turned to see Jackie propping herself against the frame.

  She looked pretty with her unruly curls framing her face, her ey
e makeup slightly smudged, her eyes luminous, and her overall bearing relaxed. “Hey, can I help?”

  “Not much to do,” Max said. “Eating is up to Lionel, unless he needs the bottle.”

  She leaned against the wall, letting out a sigh. “Ugh, still feeling that cider. I’m not sure what got into me. I don’t usually drink, but I was nervous and—”

  “Why were you nervous?” Max asked a little too quickly. He set down the bowl of food and saw Jackie watching Lionel with a warm smile as he crawled weakly over to it to eat.

  She straightened, considering his question. “You know, clubbing isn’t really my scene. I didn’t want to offend Benny by refusing, and Lock is charming enough, if a little off-putting, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I sort of just prefer being at home.”

  Max felt his cheeks warm. “Me, too.”

  When Lionel was tired of eating, he curled up in a little ball next to the bowl, and Max looked with concern at the remaining food.

  “Does he normally eat that much?” Jackie asked.

  “Depends. He’s still getting used to food instead of milk, based on his age and according to the vet.” Max sighed as he went to the kitchen to warm up a bottle of kitten formula.

  As he heated the bottle in a cup of hot water, he heard Jackie walk up from behind. Lionel was in her arms, and he let out a little mew.

  “Let me feed him,” she said. “You’ve already done all the work today.”

  He handed over the bottle. “He hasn’t been eating enough. The vet said fading kitten syndrome is a real thing.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I didn’t know I could care about him this quickly.”

  She grinned up at him as he nuzzled the nipple of the bottle near Lionel’s tiny lips. “So the truth is you’re a big softie.”

  Max tucked his hair behind his ear. “Taking in an abandoned kitten didn’t tip you off already?”

  She laughed, gently pressing the bottle until Lionel opened his mouth and began drinking with an eager sucking sound. “I suppose. I thought for a minute you just felt bad for him or were interested in me…”

  He stared at her intently, noticing the way she worried her bottom lip.

  “I mean, I’m not saying you are.” Her brown eyes looked panicked. “Just sometimes men do things to impress women. Not that you’d want to impress me, but—”

  Max moved in front of her as she backed up to the counter. He looked down at her with folded arms, unsure at the way his pulse was racing just watching her nurture something tiny and young. “I do want to impress you.”

  She gulped, setting the bottle on the counter as she propped Lionel against her shoulder. “You do?”

  Max nodded, putting a hand on the counter and keeping her in place without touching her at all. “Of course.” He ran his eyes down her slowly, giving her the long perusal he’d wanted to all along, ever since that first night.

  He was glad they’d found Lionel, but even if they hadn’t, he had a feeling he would have wanted to see this woman again.

  Which was odd, given that she was human.

  “Gosh, you’re big,” she said, staring up at him, her full lips marginally open. She swayed slightly, reminding him she was drunk. “I didn’t know they made men like you.”

  Max laughed at that, stepping back. “Not around here they don’t.”

  “And that hair,” she said, holding Lionel with one hand as she reached the other out to capture one of his long locks. “The color is just… amazing.”

  Max jerked back. It had been a long time since someone had willingly touched his hair, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. It was part of his royal lineage, part of something he had no access to now but that still meant a lot to him.

  Yet it felt sort of right, letting her touch it, so he didn’t pull all the way back, and he let her twirl the lock softly in her hand.

  “So soft,” she said reverently, reaching for another lock and studying it with amazed brown eyes. “I always hated my curly hair. I would have killed for hair like this.”

  “But not now?” Max asked awkwardly, not sure what else to say.

  “Not now.” She agreed, releasing his hair gently. “Now I’m pretty happy with who I am.” She tucked one of her own curls back just as Lionel let out a little mew. “I guess we should get him back to his bed.” She turned to walk back to the little corner of the room they’d set up for Lionel, and Max felt as though he were frozen in place, wanting to watch her every move.

  Something about this felt as if it were out of a dream. Like déjà vu.

  But he couldn’t put a finger on it.

  It just felt like no matter what, they were always meant to be together right there, at that moment.

  Jackie tucked Lionel in and looked back to see Max watching her. She nervously pressed a pin back into her hair and straightened, smoothing out her cardigan and the tank top beneath.

  God, she looked soft. So perfect. Everything from her silky, dark skin to her glowing brown eyes to those wild-looking curls was everything he could have wanted.

  She swayed slightly, putting a hand on the couch and reminding Max that she was also quite drunk.

  He ran over to her and helped her onto the couch, handing her a blanket to snuggle in.

  He sat down beside her, watching her curl up with a little sigh. What he wouldn’t give to be that blanket…

  The thought made him straighten, and he tried to remind himself that Jackie was human and he had no right to think those kinds of thoughts.

  It was too bad this wasn’t happening in his home country. If they were back on Pride Island and he was having these kinds of feelings, he’d know he had found his mate.

  So what did all of this mean now?

  She had pulled the blanket under her chin and had her knees up in front of her. She glanced over at Lionel, her expression was pensive. “So do you think he’ll pull out of this?”

  “He’ll pull out,” Max said. “I’ll make him.” Max never let anyone in his care come to harm, and that circle now included Lionel.

  And Jackie.

  “You’re good with him,” he said nervously, wondering how Lock and Benny made conversing with human females seem so normal. “Are you experienced with young?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Young?”

  Max felt the blood drain from his face. Even drunk, she could tell he was awkward. “Children.”

  “Oh,” she said. “No, not really. I was an only child.” She shrugged. “I do like children, though. And kittens. And anything tiny.”

  He frowned at the sudden warmth that rushed through him. The feeling that she was his, the feeling that they belonged together.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she said, putting up both hands. “I like big things, too.” She scooted a little closer. “I liked you from the moment I saw you. You taking care of a little kitten? It just was icing on the cake.”

  He could smell alcohol on her breath, but it didn’t override the other things he could scent. A beautiful, unique floral fragrance that felt cool and refreshing at the same time. A hint of vanilla emanating from her neck where she must have sprayed some kind of scent.

  And lust hovering in the air like smoke.

  He pressed his lips together, trying to decide on his next move, when he felt her cuddle in next to him and rest her head against his shoulder. He looked down at her, trying to keep his whole body from stiffening. It had been so long since he’d been touched by a woman in an intimate way.

  Then her hand was on his knee. It was probably good she was drunk, because if she’d been sober, she probably would have been terrified by his expression and rigid posture.

  Instead, her movements were languid as her hand stroked over his leg.

  “You feel good,” she said. “Is this okay? I haven’t really cuddled anyone in a while.”

  Cuddle? Max wasn’t even really sure what she meant, but if pressing her soft body against his was something she wanted, he would
oblige.

  And try not to think of the stiffening part of him that wanted so much more.

  “It’s fine,” he said roughly.

  She’s human, he reminded himself. Fragile, tiny, shallow, and human.

  They weren’t capable of being faithful the way shifters were. They didn’t understand commitments that lasted until death.

  They didn’t even mark their partners.

  But even the lion inside him was pleased with the way things were going. It felt like the terrifying big animal inside was ready to curl up in her arms just like tiny Lionel.

  And he was a warrior, not a kitten.

  He shifted awkwardly as her hand moved up his thigh to rest in a comfortable position. Did she even realize how close she was?

  “You know, I think something like this would be the best at the end of the day,” she said, leaning her head in against his arm. “Quiet, relaxing. Maybe watching a movie, talking about our day. Just little things made better by the person you love being there. If I were in a relationship, I mean.”

  “Have you had a lot of relationships?” He hoped his question sounded more casual than it felt.

  She shook her head. “No time. Well, that’s not really honest, I guess. I suppose I just haven’t met someone who made me happier than I am being alone.” She looked up at him. “What about you?”

  He shook his head. “Too busy with work. Never met the right person.”

  “It’s weird, right?” She shook her head. “Maybe it’s just because I’m drunk, but I’ve never really met anyone I connected with. And then I meet you at a club and we end up in this situation. But it’s not about Lionel anymore. I mean, it is about him, obviously, but I also look forward to seeing you. I know you don’t have feelings for me or anything and you’ve been thrown into this, but—”

  “What makes you think I don’t have feelings?”

  She sat up slightly, letting her hand rest on his arm. “Well, you’re really blunt, and you glare at me a lot. And you always seem annoyed by me.”

  “I’m not,” he said. “I come across as… harsh. But I like you. I liked you the moment I saw you.” He grinned. “That’s why I let your friends into the club.”