by Lynn Hagen
He stepped in and then waved Maltese inside. “It’s all yours.”
The room had white walls with cream trim, white lace curtains, a bed, a dresser, and a cushioned chair in one corner. The room was minimally decorated, but Maltese loved it. Still, he didn’t trust Vince’s kindness. No one helped out this much without strings being attached.
“What do you want for this room?”
Vince looked at him in question. “I don’t understand.”
Maltese crossed his arms and glared at Vince. “No one is this kind. What do you want in return, sex, money, a housekeeper?” he asked. “I won’t mind cleaning up, but I’m broke, and I don’t sell ass, no matter how nice the room is.”
He might have been mentally perving on Vince earlier, but that was different from selling his body for a place to spend the night.
Vince looked genuinely offended. “Have I once asked you to perform any sexual acts with me?”
“You could’ve been leading up to it,” Maltese pointed out.
“The room is yours to use if you want it.” Vince stormed out and slammed the door so hard it shook the frame.
Maltese started to go after him to apologize, but he didn’t. Living on the street, he’d run into some real unsavory characters who were all nice and sweet at first, until they demanded cash or sex as payment. Maltese had seen it happen too many times, and that was why he never allowed anyone to do him any favors.
So why was he allowing himself to fall for Vince’s charms? “You must be losing your edge,” he mumbled to himself. At first light, Maltese would thank Vince for everything that he’d done and get ghost.
He refused to owe the man more than he was willing to repay.
Chapter Three
Vince wanted to tell Maltese that they were mates, and he’d nearly blurted out the fact at the kitchen table. Now he stood in the hallway outside Maltese’s door, cursing himself for trying to wait for the “right” moment.
With the way things were going between them, the right moment might never come. He’d lifted his hand to knock when he heard his phone ringing in the living room.
With a sigh, Vince walked away, leaving another opportunity to fall to the wayside. “Deputy Stransky,” he said when he answered.
He looked at the clock on the mantel. Getting a call at three in the morning was never a good sign.
“Sheriff Werth asked me to give you a call,” Pat, the dispatcher at the station, said. “Deputy Kane had an emergency, so we’re one man short for first shift.”
Vince scrubbed a hand over his jaw and sighed. He didn’t want to leave Maltese, and if he told his boss that he’d just found his mate, Werth would give him time off. But Vince just couldn’t leave them hanging. He’d talk to his boss tomorrow about a leave of absence, but he wouldn’t do it last minute.
“I’ll be there.”
“Roger that,” Pat said.
Vince wondered if the fox shifter ever went home. He seemed to always be behind his desk whenever Vince was there. It was as though Pat was a permanent fixture at the station.
Great, he had to be to work in three hours with only two hours of sleep earlier.
“Is everything okay?”
Vince turned at the sound of his mate’s voice. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Maltese crossed his arms and looked at the floor. “I’m in a strange house. I guess my nerves are wound too tight to get any rest.”
Vince felt the wall Maltese had erected around himself. Whether it was from being around him or a lifetime of mistrust was the question he needed to find out.
He waved toward the couch as he sat in the recliner. Maltese inched into the living room and sat stiffly on the edge of the couch with his arms still crossed.
Vince thought they had broken the ice earlier when they’d been in the kitchen, but Maltese was a hard nut to crack. “That was the station calling. I wasn’t scheduled to work today, but they need me to come in.”
Maltese gave a crisp nod. “I’ll leave when you do. Thank you for your hospitality.”
“That’s not what I was saying,” Vince said. “I told you the guest bedroom was yours. You don’t have to leave just because I have to go to work.”
Vince saw that he would have to invest a lot of time and effort into getting Maltese to trust him. Was now the right time to tell the demon that they were mates? Would Maltese even believe him?
“You would trust a stranger alone in your house?” Maltese studied him suspiciously. “What if I decided to rob you?”
“Robbing a cop would be a pretty boneheaded move.” If Maltese hadn’t been his mate, Vince wouldn’t have left him alone. His valuables were locked in a wall safe, but he did have a laptop and an iPad in his bedroom, along with some emergency cash in his sock drawer. He also had some expensive electronics around the house—like his Bose stereo system, a 4K television in his room, and his Apple Watch, which he left at home whenever he had to work. He was too afraid he’d lose it if he had to shift.
“But I could disappear, and you’d never find me.”
“Are you purposely trying to make me suspicious of you?” Vince asked.
“I’m just trying to point out that you’re too trusting.” Maltese finally scooted back and tucked his feet under him, as though educating Vince had relaxed him. But Vince didn’t need to be schooled on shady people. He’d seen the scum of the earth in his line of work and was fully aware how crooked some people could be.
“Just don’t drink the last of the milk. I hate not having any when I make my coffee.” Vince stood and stretched. He hadn’t been tired before the call, but now that he knew he had to go to work in a few hours, he felt sleepy.
He needed a shower to wake him.
“You’re a fool,” Maltese mumbled under his breath.
“I have pretty good instincts, and they’re telling me you’re not a criminal. But if my gut is wrong, leave my iPad. I use it to read at night.”
He strode from the room and took a long lukewarm shower. Taking a hot one would’ve made him even more tired. Vince dressed in his uniform, grabbed his gun from the lockbox he kept it in at home, and shoved it into his holster.
He grabbed his boots from the closet and took them to the living room to find Maltese curled on the couch, his eyes closed, and Bella curled up next to him.
Vince sat on the recliner and studied his mate. He yearned to touch Maltese, to hold and caress him, to claim what fate had given him, but he didn’t dare. Maltese had it set in his mind that Vince wanted payment for his kindness, and Vince wasn’t going to feed that suspicion.
But it was hard not to pull Maltese from the couch and let his mate snuggle on his lap. He wanted to caress his mate’s compact body, to find out how his lips tasted, and to hear Maltese moan his name.
Stop thinking about it before you reach for him and he makes good on his promise and cuts your balls off.
He yawned as he laced his boots then stood and headed for the door with one last look at his gorgeous mate before he grabbed his thick jacket and walked out into the crisp early morning air.
He wasn’t supposed to be at the station for another two hours, but he hadn’t wanted to sit around and wait, taking a chance that he might’ve fallen asleep or gave into his whimpering snow leopard and made a move on Maltese. The demon was too much of a temptation and getting out into the morning air helped to not only clear his mind of this dirty thoughts, but helped cool down his heated body.
Vince tossed his jacket onto the passenger seat and pulled away, wishing The Café was open this early. He could use a coffee with a shot of espresso to wake him up.
Then his thoughts shifted to his mate, and Vince prayed Maltese was still there when he got home.
He hoped all his belongings were there too.
* * * *
“I got the money I owe you.”
Maltese frowned as he tried to place the voice. He didn’t want to ask what money because the caller might say never mind and hang up.
But for the life of him he couldn’t remember who it was and what money he was talking about.
So he played it smart because he needed the cash. “Where do you want to meet?”
Before everything had gone to hell, Maltese had sold potions. They weren’t anything fancy or dark but concoctions he’d whipped up to help out people. He’d given out credit more than once, so maybe that was what this was about. Maltese still wished he knew who he was talking to, but when he looked at the screen on his phone, all he saw was “unknown caller.”
“We can meet at the gazebo across from the diner,” the guy said. “How does an hour sound?”
That would give Maltese time to get ready and walk to town, and maybe by the time he made it, he would remember who owned that voice. “Perfect.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there in an hour.” The guy ended the call.
With a shrug, Maltese went to the dryer to see if his clothes were done. Thank goodness he’d found a washer and dryer tucked in a large closet off the kitchen. He’d been feeling a bit rank. He’d also taken a long hot shower after Vince had left for work.
And now he felt like a new demon.
Maltese tossed the towel from around his waist into the empty washer. He practically drooled as he slid his clean, warm underwear on. After dressing, he laced his shoes, pulled on his thin jacket, and then faced Bella. “Keep an eye on the house.”
She meowed and rubbed against his leg. He petted her head and gave her soft fur a few strokes before he walked out the door and headed toward town. The day seemed a lot warmer than the night had, and Maltese was thankful for the extra heat.
He’d nearly reached the edge of town when a police car pulled next to him while he walked the side of the road. Maltese glanced at the driver, and his heart skipped a beat. God, Vince was so damn handsome, especially in his uniform, even when wearing a scowl.
Maltese had made it quite clear that he wouldn’t exchange sex for Vince’s help, but what he wouldn’t give to writhe under that muscled body.
“What on earth are you doing out here?” There was a touch of anger vibrating in his voice.
“I’m done robbing your house, so I thought I’d pawn everything before you became the wiser,” Maltese sassed.
“Don’t be a wiseass. Get in,” Vince said.
“I can’t.” Maltese folded his arms on the open frame of the window, and Vince’s masculine spicy scent filled his lungs and made his mouth water. “I got something I gotta do.”
“Which is?” Vince’s jaw tightened to the point his teeth should’ve shattered.
Maltese didn’t want to say. Everyone already looked at him as a drug dealer, which he wasn’t. He didn’t want to see the disapproving look in Vince’s green eyes because the pissed look on his face was already bothering Maltese. For reasons he couldn’t quite understand, Vince’s opinion mattered to him.
“Just stuff,” Maltese said. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
“Did you lock my house?”
Damn. No, he hadn’t. “Uh…I’m not sure?”
“You’re not a very good liar, and thanks for leaving my house unlocked to actually get robbed. Now get in.”
Too bad he wasn’t getting into the car to fool around with Vince. He wouldn’t mind climbing onto the deputy’s lap and having some fun.
Maltese looked toward town. “Okay, okay. I gotta go pick my money up, and then we can go back to your house.” He slipped into the passenger seat. No way was he getting in the back.
Vince huffed out a long breath as the tension visibly drained from his face. He rubbed his neck, looking relieved. “Who are you meeting?”
Maltese shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Vince hadn’t pulled away from the shoulder of the road yet. He sat there looking curiously at Maltese. “You really don’t know? Or is that your way of telling me it’s none of my business?”
Maltese was dying to ask if he could play with the siren, but Vince didn’t look to be in the playing-around mood.
“Some guy called and said he had the money he owed me. I don’t know who he was or what money he was talking about,” Maltese confessed.
Vince groaned as he palmed his face. “You got a mysterious call from a stranger and you’re heading off to meet him?”
The way Vince said it made Maltese feel like an idiot. “I’m supposed to meet him at the gazebo.” He wasn’t leaving without his cash, and he was done talking to Vince.
“Fine.” Vince finally pulled back onto the road. “We’ll go meet this mystery caller.”
In truth, Maltese felt better having Vince with him. The guy was right. Maltese shouldn’t have simply taken off without knowing who he was dealing with. That had been a dumb move, and he wanted to kick himself for being so careless.
When they reached the gazebo, Vince parked behind a tan sedan. “Looks like you were stood up,” he said.
“We just got here,” Maltese pointed out. “Give him time.”
Vince squinted his eyes at the parked car in front of them. “Isn’t that the same sedan from last night?”
Maltese couldn’t be certain. He’d been too busy concentrating on Dick Dastardly’s face. “I don’t remember.”
Vince got out and looked inside the tan sedan, and then came back and got into the patrol car.
“Well?”
“Well what?” Vince asked.
“Is it the car?”
“How should I know?” Vince said. “It’s not like I took down his plate number last night.”
“Then why did you…never mind.”
They sat there for fifteen minutes before Maltese began to think the person wouldn’t show.
When a half hour passed, Maltese’s heart sank. He really needed that money, but this had been a bust. His shoulders slumped as his hope deflated like a balloon. Why would someone prank him? That didn’t make any sense.
He waved his hand toward the windshield. “I guess we can go back to your place.”
Now he had to figure out how he was gonna earn some money. He was done with the potion business after what had happened to Max.
“Look.” Vince sighed. “I know you’re pressed for cash. There’s a job opening at the station. Just running errands, fetching coffee, filing paperwork, that sort of thing.”
“But don’t I have to pass a background check and have some kind of experience?” What Vince had just described seemed easy enough, but still…on the plus side, he would be able to ogle Vince while the handsome man worked.
Maltese had always been a sucker for a man in a uniform, and Vince filled his out nicely.
“No, you just have to pass Sheriff Werth’s approval,” he said.
Great, that meant Maltese wouldn’t get the job. Max used to be the sheriff’s dog, until they’d discovered he was a shifter and Max had found his mate. Max was also the person everyone thought Maltese had been trying to kill. No way would the sheriff let him step through the doors of the station, and if he did, it would be to either kick his ass or arrest him.
Vince squeezed Maltese’s knee, and Maltese’s cock hardened. He cleared his throat and looked out the window, hiding the blush he felt covering his face. Vince’s hand was warm and strong, and Maltese didn’t want him to move it away.
“Don’t sweat it. You saved Max’s life, and that goes a long way with the sheriff.”
Maltese wasn’t so sure about that, but he’d talk with the sheriff and hope he wasn't tossed out on his ass. “Okay. When do you want me to go in?”
Vince pulled into traffic. “No better time than now.”
The closer they got to the station, the more Maltese began to sweat. He wasn’t sure he could do this. He didn’t want to face Sheriff Werth and his judging eyes.
Vince looked toward him, and then his brows rose. “Oh my god. Breathe.”
“I’ve never had a legitimate job before.” Maltese wiped the gathering sweat from his forehead. He felt as though he’d pass out at any second. The job had
sounded easy, but panic started to set in. He reached for the door handle, but Vince grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
“You can do this. I have faith in you.”
Maltese whipped his head around and stared wide-eyed at the guy. No one had ever said that to him before. No one had ever had his back or encouraged him or had any kind of faith in him. His father had been a mean bastard who’d tried to run Maltese’s life. The demon warriors looked at Maltese as though he were scum under their shoes. And although Max had always been nice to him, they really weren’t friends.
“You do?” He crinkled his brows. “But why? You don’t even know me.”
“For starters, you didn’t rob me blind.” Vince pulled into the station parking lot. He parked and shut the car off. “You’ll do fine.”
Maltese pressed his hands into his lap and stared at his shoes. “You really think so?”
“Hey.” Vince tucked his finger under Maltese’s chin and made him meet his eyes. “You’ll do fine, okay?”
Maltese’s heart thundered as he stared into Vince’s gorgeous green eyes. He felt a strange sort of connection to him. He bit his bottom lip and nodded. “If you think so.”
“I know so.” Vince got out, leaving Maltese sitting there inhaling his dark, spicy scent as his eyelids fluttered closed.
“Why couldn’t I belong to you?” he whispered before he got out and joined Vince at the bumper. His gut clenching with dread, Maltese walked into the police station.
Chapter Four
Vince sat at his desk and watched through the glass wall of Sheriff Werth’s office as his boss talked with Maltese. He wasn’t sure if his mate had a shot in hell at getting the job, but Vince had been unable to stand the hopeless look on his face.
Maltese needed a dose of self-confidence, and maybe working at the station would give him that. He still couldn’t understand how his mate had gotten a vague phone call from a stranger and had gone to meet him. Was Maltese that that naïve?
