by Lynn Hagen
“I’m gonna stick close by,” Dillon said. “Someone needs to watch your house while you sleep.” Max licked Dillon’s hand, and Dillon started petting him again. Dillon was the only person Max went gaga over. He wasn’t even this enthusiastic with Orlando.
“And why does that have to be you?” Vince asked. “I’m just as capable of watching the sheriff as you are.”
That was Vince and Dillon, always engaging in friendly competition with one another. But Orlando didn’t have time for it tonight. Newt’s tea was getting cold, and his mate had peeked around the corner several times as Orlando and his men talked.
“Out.” He set his teacup down and waved his hands toward the back door. “Dillon, you watch the house. Vince, you get back to the station and work the case.”
Dillon smirked as he headed for the door, Vince walking out behind him with a glare. Orlando sighed and locked the door before he grabbed the cups and headed into the dining room, Max right behind him.
Newt shouted, and Max barked as his mate rushed down the hallway and slammed the bathroom door closed. Orlando looked down at Max. “He’ll love you once he gets to know you.”
Max sat on his haunches and stared down the hallway, his tail swishing as Orlando set the cups on the dining room table and walked to the bathroom.
“You said he wouldn’t come near me. Why isn’t he in the den?” Newt squeaked from the other side of the door.
“We need to talk, and I’m not going to do that with a door between us,” Orlando said. “Come out, Newt.”
“Is the dog gone?”
Orlando looked down the hallway. Max still sat there, as though waiting for Newt to come out so they could play. Orlando wasn’t sure how old Max was, but he was still young enough to use the doggy door to go outside and run around, chasing squirrels and barking at blowing leaves—on the ground or in the trees.
He’d just appeared at Orlando’s door one day. After an extensive search to find Max’s owner, and failing, Orlando had decided to keep him. He’d even come with a collar and a dog tag, but the tag had only his name, no other information.
“Go to the den.”
Max whimpered before he got up and padded away.
“Okay, he’s gone.”
Newt cracked the door open. “Are you sure?”
Orlando had to stop himself from running his knuckles over Newt’s cheek. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Opening the door all the way, Newt stepped out and looked around. “He isn’t gonna come running back here, is he?”
Probably. “Nope.”
Newt appeared relieved. “Can you show me which room is mine?” Newt asked. “I’d like to get some rest.”
After Orlando took him to the guest room, he went back for the tea, which was no doubt tepid by now. He took Newt his cup and sat on the side of the bed. His mate was still in his pajamas and was under the covers already.
“What did those men want?” Newt accepted the cup and took a sip and then set the cup on the nightstand.
“Are you sure you don’t know why those men broke into your house?” Orlando kept his gaze focused on Newt’s face because, if he looked any lower, he just might be tempted to crawl into bed and claim the human. The scent of warm rain and mint filled his lungs as he waited for Newt to answer him.
“I told you already,” Newt said as he brushed the hair from his face. “I don’t know why they picked my house.”
“And you don’t have any enemies?”
“Why are you asking me the same questions?” Newt asked.
“Anyone special that you might’ve spurned?”
“I’m single and have been for a while,” Newt said. “Not that I haven’t dated, but no one has caught my interest enough to make things long-term.”
Orlando stopped the growl from rumbling in his chest. He didn’t want to think about Newt with anyone else, so he shifted topics and told Newt about the paper.
His mate’s brows shot up. “Why would they have targeted me?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He patted Newt’s arm and then pulled his hand away before it slid over his mate’s chest and other, more interesting body parts. “Get some rest. We’ll look at this with fresh eyes come morning.”
“How am I supposed to sleep knowing someone is still out there who wants to…what do they want, to kill or kidnap me?”
“I’m pretty certain that if they’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead.” Because professionals wouldn’t overlook a closet. But the question was, why hadn’t they taken Newt? If they’d been searching the house, which was the only plausible explanation, what had they been looking for?
“That’s…reassuring.”
“One of my deputies is watching the house, and I’m right across the hall,” Orlando said. “You’re safe.”
“And you have a guard dog,” Newt pointed out.
Orlando didn’t want to point out that Max was an oversized wuss. He’d probably be the first one to run away if trouble struck. But Orlando loved his dog, even if he was a coward.
But Orlando was a wolf shifter, and he would do whatever he had to in order to keep Newt safe.
Chapter Three
The bedroom was still dark when Newt opened his eyes. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but he still felt exhausted. He was used to getting up early for his job, but after last night, he felt drained.
Newt stiffened when he saw a pair of eyes staring at him and felt hot breath fanning across his face. He squished his eyes closed, willing the dog out of his room. He could have sworn he’d shut his door last night but couldn’t be sure. After talking with Orlando, it hadn’t taken him long to fall asleep. Had the sheriff left the door open?
“Orlando!” Newt scooted to the other side of the bed. Max must’ve thought that was an invitation because he hopped onto the bed and settled in next to Newt, damn near burrowing under him. Newt couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe as the fur tickled his arm.
Orlando raced into the room, wearing only boxers as he pointed the gun in his hand in front of him. He blinked several times, and so did Newt. Holy shit, the man had a rocking body. His biceps bulged as he lowered his arms, glancing around. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Newt asked incredulously. He nodded toward Max. “I don’t know. Can you see what doesn’t belong?”
A smile curved Orlando’s mouth. “He just wants to be friends.”
“Oh, god no!” Newt sputtered when Max licked his face. “Gross!” He glared at the dog. “Has anyone ever told you that you need a breath mint?”
“Come on, boy.” Orlando swished his arm toward the door. “You have your own bed to sleep in.”
Max didn’t move. He buried his nose under Newt’s back. “Does he think you can’t see him if he hides?” Newt asked. He didn’t want to admit that he found the dog…charming. He was still terrified Max would open his mouth and rip out his spine, but his tail was beating against the bed, and Newt had heard that if a dog wagged his tail, he was friendly.
He wasn’t sure how true that was, though.
“He normally listens to me,” Orlando said. “Max, get over here.”
Newt slid out of the bed and stood on the other side of the room. Max got up, jumped from the bed, and sat at Newt’s side, staring up at him with pleading eyes.
Orlando started across the room. Max slinked behind Newt, as though he could hide behind Newt’s slim frame.
“Why are you being so hardheaded?” Orlando demanded. “Newt’s scared of you, buddy. Cut him some slack. Now go get into your own bed.”
Max finally moved from around Newt, his tail tucked between his legs, his head lowered, as he padded toward the door. Why on earth did Newt feel sorry for him?
“I’m sorry, Max,” Newt said, and the dog turned at the mention of his name. Newt wasn’t sure why he was apologizing.
Max headed out of the room, and Newt was tempted to call him back.
“He’ll be all right,” Orlando said. “He seems
to have taken to you.”
“He’s, uh, not so scary…I guess.” But that didn’t mean Newt wanted to be besties with Max, either.
“You that afraid of canines?”
That was a funny way of saying it. “Dogs.”
“Wolves?”
Newt crinkled his nose. “Aren’t wolves and dogs the same thing?”
Orlando shrugged. He set his gun on the dresser, took a seat on the edge of the bed, and patted the mattress. Newt crawled back into bed and settled in. “They are not the same,” Orlando said.
Newt chewed on that for a moment. “I guess not. Wolves would be ten times scarier. I’d never want to run into one.”
Why did Orlando look disappointed?
“Get some rest,” he said. “I have to be up in a few hours.”
“You’re going into work?” Newt didn’t like the idea of being left alone, let alone with Max.
“And you’re coming with me,” Orlando said. “I’m not leaving you by yourself for a second.”
“Why are doing this for me?” Newt asked. “Don’t get me wrong. You seem like a really nice guy, but you don’t have to go out of your way for me.”
He was trying really hard not to let his gaze drop to Orlando’s naked chest…or lower. Newt had never met anyone with so many ripped muscles. Add in his devastatingly handsome looks and caring personality and Sheriff Werth was the complete package.
Newt wouldn’t mind climbing that muscled mountain. He also felt a strange connection to the guy, like he could trust Orlando with anything, even his deepest, darkest secrets.
Not that Newt had any.
“I took this job because I genuinely like to help people.” Orlando fixed the blankets around Newt, and Newt inhaled sharply when the man’s hand grazed his arm, but Orlando didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he brushed the hair from out of Newt’s eyes as he smiled gently at him. “I’ve always been this way.”
“The world needs more people like you.” Only half of Newt’s brain was working. Although he’d meant what he’d said, he’d sputtered it out without thinking. He was too busy drooling over the hot cop sitting on the bed.
“That’s what my grandmother used to say.”
The mention of Orlando’s grandmother killed Newt’s drooling. “Oh.”
Orlando chuckled. “Not to bring her up when I see that look in your eyes.”
“What look?” Had Newt been that obvious? He felt his face catch fire as he looked around the room, wishing Orlando would leave so he could be mortified in private.
Orlando patted his leg. “I’m gonna go start a pot of coffee since I don’t think I can fall back to sleep. You’re welcome to join me.”
Newt bit his lip as he watched the hunky man walk out the room. His gaze dropped to Orlando’s nicely rounded ass, and he couldn’t catch the whimper that squeezed from his throat. The guy’s dark blue boxer briefs hugged his ass in all the right places.
It was probably a bad thing for Newt to be salivating over the guy who had saved him. Orlando had just been doing his job. Newt should stay in bed and try to get some rest, but who the hell was he kidding? He wanted to see more of Orlando’s body, so he threw the covers back and walked out of the room.
Newt sat on the same stool he’d parked his butt on earlier and watched Orlando move around the kitchen. His back muscles flexed when he moved his arms. His biceps bunched when he reached for something in the cupboard. Newt wanted to lick every delicious inch of the sheriff’s brown skin until Orlando bent him over the island and fucked him into a coma.
Newt blinked and forced those thoughts away.
Looking over his shoulder, Orlando asked, “Are you hungry?”
“You’ve done too much for me already.” No sooner had Newt said that than his stomach growled.
Orlando winked. “I guess I’m cooking breakfast.”
Newt looked at the clock on the wall. Was it really only four in the morning? He didn’t think he’d ever woken that early. The sun wasn’t even up yet.
“How do blueberry waffles sound?” Orlando measured some coffee from the can and dumped it into the filter.
“Seriously, don’t go out of your way for me. Cereal will do just fine.” Orlando had yet to turn around, so Newt got a few moments to openly stare at the sheriff’s strong back, rounded ass, and powerful legs. Did he work out all the time, or did that body come naturally? “Do you have a gym membership?”
Orlando looked over his shoulder, a frown on his face. “No, why?”
“I was just wondering how you stayed in such good shape.” Too bad Orlando wasn’t naked. Newt was dying to check out his cock.
Orlando’s arms and back flexed as he reached for a coffee mug in the cupboard. This time Newt knew he had done it on purpose. “I run a lot. At least four or five times a week when I can. And I’m not going out of my way as far as breakfast. I don’t stock sugary cereal. I like my food homemade.”
Orlando set a mug of coffee in front of Newt and then went to the fridge, returning with a carton of creamer. “No sugar?” Newt asked.
“Sorry, I don’t use it in my coffee, so I forget to offer it to my guests.” Orlando grabbed a few packets from a drawer and handed them over. “I’m gonna start breakfast. You can explore the house, or keep me company. That’s totally up to you.”
Newt looked toward the kitchen entrance to discover Max lying on the floor between the kitchen and dining room, his head resting on his front paws.
“He’s afraid if he moves, I’ll see him and make him leave,” Orlando said.
“I think I’ll keep you company.” Besides the fantastic view of Orlando’s body, Newt didn’t want Max following him around. He might not be as frightened as he was before, but he was still afraid of the dog.
“Then get your butt over here and help me. I’m gonna show you how to make the waffles.”
While keeping a close eye on Max, Newt slid from his stool and wandered over to Orlando. How was he supposed to concentrate with an almost-naked guy right next to him?
“Grab the blueberries from the fridge,” Orlando instructed.
When Newt returned with them, he was thrown into his first homemade-waffles cooking lesson. He was shocked when the guy didn’t even use measuring cups.
“My grandma had me in the kitchen with her from the time I was in diapers,” Orlando explained, clearly reading Newt’s mind. “Until I was old enough to stir, she had me in a highchair, watching her and making me her official taste-tester.”
“She sounds like a wonderful grandma,” Newt said. He’d gotten flour all over the front of his pajamas, and he was pretty sure he had blue lips from popping a few of the blueberries into his mouth.
“She was.” Orlando used the ladle to pour some of the mix onto the hot plates of the waffle maker. “She passed about a year ago.”
“And your parents?”
Orlando picked up a hand towel and wiped the tip of Newt’s nose. His breath caught in his lungs as Orlando stared at him with those mesmerizing brown eyes. Newt cleared his throat and looked away, embarrassed that he was getting hard.
“They live about twenty minutes down the road. They own a horse rescue farm, and my two brothers live there, too, helping run the place. My sister, Nadine, lives in Pride Pack Valley with her mate and two adorable pups.”
Newt cocked his head to the side. “Did you say mate and pups?”
“Husband and kids.”
Newt shook his head. “That’s not what you said.”
“Grab the bacon from the fridge.” Orlando removed the first waffle and started on the second one, actively avoiding Newt’s gaze.
“What about your family?” Orlando busied himself around the kitchen, and Newt knew the guy was still avoiding him.
“My parents’ live about forty minutes from here. I have a few cousins here and there.” Newt set the bacon on the island.
Orlando grabbed it, as though glad to have something else to do while the waffles cooked.
“So
why does your sister have a mate and pups?” Newt wasn’t going to let that go.
“We’re from England.”
“You’re full of shit,” Newt said.
“That I am.” Orlando finally turned to face him. “But the real reason would blow your mind, and after last night, I’m not trying to short-circuit your brain.”
“You can tell me,” Newt said. “I was in danger last night. You can’t hold my freaking out against me.”
“You didn’t freak out,” Orlando reminded him. “You kept a cool head in a dangerous situation. Most wouldn’t have.”
“That’s because I was paralyzed with fear so I couldn’t move.” Newt opened cupboards, looking for a frying pan for the bacon. Orlando pointed up. Newt looked up to see the pots and pans hanging from a rack. Orlando pulled a pan down and handed it to Newt.
“You’re freaking out over Max.”
“I was bitten as a kid. Again, you can’t hold that against me.” Newt opened the bacon and placed the strips in the pan before setting the pan on the stove. He liked working side by side with Orlando. They moved in a rhythm as though they’d been doing this for years.
Orlando turned the burner on under the bacon and grabbed the waffle, adding some more batter to the hot plates. The smells in the kitchen were wonderful and had Newt’s stomach growling harder.
When Newt turned, ready to tell Orlando that he hadn’t answered his question, Orlando popped a blueberry into Newt’s mouth. “Got them fresh from the market yesterday.”
“Is it blueberry season?” Newt hadn't the first clue what season was what as far as fresh fruit went.
“Hell if I know.” Orlando grabbed some tongs for the bacon. “They taste fresh.”
That they did. Newt wanted to snatch one of the delicious-looking waffles and chow down on it but made himself wait.
“They taste as fresh as the answer I’m waiting on.” Newt went to the fridge and grabbed the container of orange juice. “I’m not letting you sidetrack me.”
“You’re persistent.”
“I work with the elderly,” Newt said. “I have an abundance of persistence and patience. So tell me why you said that.”
