Hungry Like A Dragon: A Bad Alpha Dads Romance

by Tami Lund

  Not that she regretted her daughter, but it sure would have been nice if she’d managed to meet a nice guy, date for a while, decide to mate, and then have a kid. That way, she would have broken the circle of loveless relationships her family seemed hell-bent on accidentally stumbling into over and over again.

  She wasn’t the first Sharmell to screw up and have a child without securing a mate first, but she sure as hell would be the first to not mate with the father and therefore avoiding being miserable for the rest of her existence.

  “Never mind,” she said, lifting her hand, palm out. “I need to finish getting ready. My hair may be irredeemable at this point.”

  Ignoring her dragon, who wanted to get to know Noah better, Petra scurried down the hall to the relative safety of her bedroom. Maybe if he wasn’t within her line of vision, she could concentrate on the task at hand.

  And if she was successful tonight, she might be able to finally go home. To face her family.

  Oh hell, that wasn’t exactly a reward, was it?

  Chapter 4

  As soon as Petra left the house, the door slamming shut and cutting off his view of her beautifully rounded ass, Noah let out the breath he’d been holding. The whoosh of air ruffled the dark hair on Sadie’s head, and her eyes widened. He did it again and she giggled.

  Holy hell, the kid was cute. His kid. He had a kid. Never mind it was with a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

  He still had a kid.

  Not exactly part of his life plan, which included a distinct lack of family. No kid. No mate. No opportunity to turn into his father. That was what was supposed to happen.

  He’d really screwed that up, hadn’t he?

  “First things first,” he said to the child in his arm. “Shower.” He carried her down the hall to the bathroom. When he spotted the bouncy seat on the floor, it hit him again: I have a kid.

  “What do you think?” he asked as he strapped Sadie into the contraption. “You gonna let me get clean?”

  She gave him a gummy grin that melted his heart. As if the organ didn’t already belong to her. “I can’t believe you’re mine.” Shaking his head, he quickly stripped and climbed into the bathtub.

  He sudsed up and massaged Petra’s strawberry-scented shampoo into his hair. Great, now he had a boner and he was gonna smell like a girl. Although it was better than barnyard animal.

  Sadie started to whimper as he twisted off the water. He shoved the curtain aside and then cupped his hands over his engorged junk. Shit. He needed a towel.

  Five minutes into this fatherhood gig and he was flashing his own daughter.

  To make matters worse, all he had were the clothes on his back—or rather, in a heap on the floor. And they smelled like he’d slept in a barn last night.

  After pulling on his boxer shorts, he rummaged through the drawers and cabinet in the bathroom, searching for a spare toothbrush. He found a packet of four, which he took as Petra liking to replace hers regularly instead of her having a stash on hand for overnight guests.

  His phone vibrated with a text message, and a moment later, there was a knock on the front door, followed by the sound of the knob turning, and then a feminine voice called out, “Hey, Petra, I’m here.”

  “Shit,” he said as he scrambled to tug his jeans over his hips. “Oops, sorry, Sadie.” Hopefully Petra was right that the kid didn’t understand what they were saying yet.

  Foregoing the shirt, he scooped Sadie into his arm and hurried out to greet whoever the hell was friendly enough to walk into Petra’s apartment without waiting to be invited.

  “Oh,” the young human woman said when he stepped into the living room. She had long blonde hair, wide-set blue eyes, and rose-colored lips. Those baby blues skimmed over his body and came to a stuttering halt on his bare chest. Crap, he should have grabbed his shirt.

  “Hey.” Her voice flipped from surprised to come-hither in an instant.

  “Uh…” His phone vibrated again and he pulled it out of his pocket. It was a text from Petra.

  I forgot to tell you, Rebecca was supposed to babysit. I’ll text her, but if she doesn’t get it, just tell her I’m sorry I forgot to mention you. Thanks.

  “Oh,” Rebecca, he presumed, said again. She was looking down at her own phone. “You’re Noah,” she said, lifting her gaze and focusing on his chest again. Was this what women felt like when they tried to have reasonable conversations with men?

  “Yeah.”

  “Aunt Pacey told me you were here. But I assumed since Petra was going out on a date that it would be with, well, you.”

  It should be with us, his dragon whispered. You’re the father of her child.

  That doesn’t matter, Noah reminded the beast. She clearly doesn’t want us. And I don’t want a family.

  She doesn’t know what she wants. And you’re just afraid.

  Gods, it was hard sharing a mind with his dragon sometimes.

  “Yeah, well, we, uh, haven’t exactly been in touch much until recently.”

  Rebecca nodded knowingly, which was funny, because she couldn’t be more than twenty. How much could she possibly know about interpersonal relationships?

  “When Petra first moved in she was a hot mess. I thought she regretted getting pregnant, but Aunt Pacey insisted she missed you and wanted you to be part of her life.”

  He needed to arrange to have a more in-depth conversation with Pacey, and soon.

  “But practically the second Sadie was born, Petra’s whole demeanor changed. Although Aunt Pacey still insisted she was sad and wanted you back.”

  Scratch that in-depth convo. Pacey clearly saw what she wanted to see, because there was no way in hell Petra had been waiting around for Noah to sweep her off her feet. She would have told him about Sadie if that were the case. Plus, while he didn’t know her well, he knew enough to know Petra wasn’t the sort of woman to pine over anyone, father of her child or not.

  Besides, a family wasn’t what he wanted out of life. He had no interest in pursuing anything that might lead to love, because love never resulted in a happy ending. He knew that firsthand.

  “And now you’re here, but Petra’s out with another guy.” Rebecca seemed puzzled by her own statement. “Why’d you let her go?”

  I didn’t even have her in the first place. Oh, and I don’t want to want her, either. “She, uh, had a job to do down here. I didn’t know she was pregnant when she left.”

  “No, I mean tonight, silly. Why’d you let her go out with someone else? You’re here to win her back, right?”

  “I, uh…” Why had he flown across the country without coming up with a plan first? Because he suspected Petra was here, alone, raising his child? Why hadn’t he just picked up the phone and called?

  We needed to see for ourselves, his dragon replied. And maybe we’re hoping to rekindle that flame.

  “No, we’re not,” Noah snapped. It was bad enough he had a kid now. Someone to love, someone to worry over—someone to lose. He sure as hell wasn’t going to alter his life plan any more and include a mate. Besides, Petra clearly wasn’t interested in anything more than those brief moments of bliss they’d shared a year ago.

  “We’re not what?” Rebecca asked.

  Noah shook his head. “Sorry. Nothing. I mean, uh…” He needed to eat. He needed clean clothes.

  We need to check on Petra.

  No.

  Yes.

  Damn it.

  He raked his hand through his damp hair. “Listen, Rebecca, since you’re here, could you do me a favor?”

  ***

  After a quick shopping trip at the nearest Target, Noah returned to the guesthouse Petra called home, dropped off his bags, changed into a pair of shorts and a button-down shirt, checked on Rebecca and Sadie, and then headed out again. He told himself he was only going to get something to eat, but it was a pitiful lie, because why the hell hadn’t he taken Rebecca up on her offer to share the pot of gumbo her aunt had left simmering on the sto
ve in the big house across the yard? And why had he quizzed Rebecca about all the places Petra might go on a date?

  Yeah, he wanted to find Petra, to make sure she didn’t do anything foolish, like fall in love with some other guy.

  Which was so stupid, because he definitely didn’t want her to fall in love with him.

  And yet he wandered through the French Quarter, checking out the handful of bars and restaurants Rebecca so helpfully suggested, until he found Petra at a place called The Corner Oyster House.

  Oysters, seriously? And she said she wasn’t looking to hook up tonight.

  The place was hopping on a Thursday evening. Creole or Zydeco or some other foot-tapping music piped through the speakers and spilled out onto the sidewalk. Floor-to-ceiling windows and glass doors opened to an outdoor seating area, while inside, the place resembled a typical sports bar, other than the fact that it smelled freaking fantastic.

  And there was Petra, seated at a two-top next to one of the open windows, with a dark-haired dragon across from her, his gaze glued to the cleavage the scoop neck of her orange sundress revealed.

  Noah’s dragon growled.

  Chill, dude. We have no right to be protective over a woman who isn’t even ours, Noah reminded the beast.

  She should be.

  Why? Because we have a kid together?

  That’s as good a reason as any.

  Someone jostled him from behind, and Noah moved out of the way so the guy could enter the bar. Then he slipped in behind him, careful to stay out of Petra’s line of vision. Probably wouldn’t go over well if she spotted him basically stalking her.

  He claimed the last remaining empty stool at the bar and smiled when the dark-skinned bartender handed him a menu. “What would you recommend for a northerner who’s never experienced New Orleans before?” he asked.

  The tender tugged the menu from his grasp. “I got you,” he said. Noah shifted in his seat so he could watch Petra and her date out of the corner of his eye.

  “Hurricane,” the bartender said, placing a tall, feminine-shaped glass in front of him. It was filled with ice and pink liquid and a small, paper umbrella stuck into a slice of pineapple resting on the rim.

  Noah took a sip and nodded. Sweet and strong. The tender wandered away again, and Noah went back to watching Petra and her date.

  She leaned back in her chair, one arm draped across the back, one leg crossed over the other knee, while her sandal dangled from her painted toes. Brushing her hair off her shoulder, she tilted her head as she offered a coy smile to the guy seated across from her. She’d complained about her hair all the way out the door earlier, but to Noah, it was perfect, wavy with a little extra body. The guy she was dining with sure didn’t seem to have a problem with it, either.

  She’s flirting with him, his dragon complained.

  I can see, too, you know.

  “Alligator bites,” the bartender said, sliding a plate full of steaming food in front of him. Noah shifted his attention to the appetizer. It looked like chunks of marinated, grilled beef resting on a bed of romaine lettuce. With a shrug, he used his fork to stab a piece, dipped it in the accompanying sauce, and popped it into his mouth.

  “Wow,” he said. “That’s fantastic.”

  The guy grinned and left him to his own devices. Noah shoved a few more bites into his mouth and glanced over his shoulder at Petra’s table.

  Her date was leaning forward, his elbows on the flat surface, a bottle of beer in one hand. A platter sat between them, full of empty oyster shells. A server stepped up, swept away the dish, and replaced it with entrees. Neither Petra nor her date noticed. They were both far too involved in their conversation. The guy was doing most of the talking, and Petra seemed to be hanging on his every word.

  This doesn’t look good, Noah’s dragon said.

  Shut up.

  He turned back to the bar when the tender appeared again to place another plate of food in front of him. “New Orleans sampler,” he said. “Little bit of everything.” He pointed at each item on the plate as he said, “Red beans and rice, jambalaya, alligator piquant, shrimp creole, crawfish étouffée, fried oysters.”

  “Damn.” Maybe he needed to thank his dragon for insisting they come out and check out what Petra was up to on her date. The food and drink alone were worth it.

  His new friend placed a bottle of hot sauce on the bar. “D.a.T. Sauce. If you think you can handle it.”

  “Oh, hell yeah,” Noah said, snagging the bottle and sprinkling the red sauce over the entire platter. He took the first bite and closed his eyes to better savor the sensation. The bartender snorted, but when Noah opened his eyes, the guy was gone, down at the other end of the bar taking care of another customer.

  The food was too damn good to neglect, so the plate was half empty by the time Noah focused on Petra and her date again. His appetite fizzled when he noticed the guy’s hand on Petra’s arm, caressing her skin. She’d adjusted her stance, too, was leaning toward him, her fingers toying with the rim of her water glass.

  Get over there, his dragon demanded.

  No. If I piss her off, she might not let me see Sadie.

  She wouldn’t do that.

  How the hell do you know?

  Petra stood gracefully, said something to her date, and then hooked her purse strap over her shoulder and sauntered from the table. Noah whipped around and hunched his shoulders, holding his breath as she walked by. He turned his head slightly and noted that she was heading toward the restroom. Sliding off his stool, he pulled several bills from his wallet and tossed them onto the bar, then headed in the same direction.

  He reached out and touched her arm, and her eyes widened. “What are you doing here?” she demanded while her gaze darted over his shoulder, presumably toward her date.

  Noah crowded her, and she took a few steps backward until she bumped into the exposed brick wall. He nudged her to the side and she stumbled away from the restroom and down a short hall to another dining area.

  “Stop it,” she said, digging in her heels.

  “I’m just trying to make sure your date doesn’t see us,” Noah explained.

  Was that relief in her eyes? Shit. She really liked the guy.

  “Where’s Sadie?” she asked.

  “With Rebecca.”

  “And why are you here instead of with your daughter?”

  Good question. Best not to answer truthfully. “I was hungry. Rebecca gave me some recommendations to try local cuisine.”

  She didn’t look like she believed him, and he didn’t blame her.

  “Look, you need to get out of here. I’m in the middle of something and—”

  “Gigi?”

  Petra winced. Noah glanced over his shoulder at her date, heading in their direction.

  “Gigi?” Noah repeated, and she averted her gaze.

  “This guy bothering you?” the date asked.

  If she says…

  “No. Not really. Nothing I can’t handle. I’ll be right there,” she said, dismissing him.

  Except he didn’t leave. Instead, he gave Noah a head to toe once-over and flexed his biceps under his skintight red T-shirt.

  Bring it, asshole. Noah stared him down, without doing the bullshit pec-flexing act. Wasn’t necessary.

  “Gods above,” Petra snapped. She placed her hand on Noah’s chest and gave him a little push, and he stayed right where he was. Although he certainly enjoyed the contact. More than he should.

  “Go away.” But instead of dropping her hand, she curled her fingers into his shirt. “This doesn’t concern you,” she said, her gaze on his chest.

  Her date latched onto her hand and pulled it away, and Noah grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before slamming him face first into the brick wall. Leaning in, he whispered in his ear, “Don’t ever fucking touch the lady like that again.” He pulled back and then shoved the guy into the wall again for good measure before stepping away as a group of employees came rushing toward them.


  “Time to get out of here,” he said to Petra, who grabbed his hand and dragged him behind her as she headed for the nearest exit. It took her well over a block to realize she was still holding his hand, at which point she jerked hers away and continued speed- walking without looking at him.

  “Gigi, huh?” he said conversationally, easily keeping up with her hurried pace.

  She didn’t respond.

  “So why’d you give the guy a fake name?”

  “None of your business.”

  “You just had a date with a volatile asshole and you gave him a fake name. That’s not normal behavior, Petra. Why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on?”

  Before she could say anything—if she even planned to—he snapped his fingers. “The assignment. This has something to do with breaking the curse, doesn’t it?”

  “Why are you here, Noah?”

  “I told you, I was hungry.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Okay, fine. I wanted to check up on you. Make sure everything was okay.” That was close enough to the truth, especially given he didn’t even want to admit the full truth to himself.

  She sighed and stopped walking. He dodged a group of humans heading down the sidewalk and stepped to the side, leaning his shoulder against the nearest building and trying to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. She was obviously irritated, and he was pretty sure most of it was directed at him, even though it was the other guy who’d manhandled her.

  “Look, I know I should have told you about Sadie sooner.”

  “True.”

  She glared at him. “I screwed up. I get it. But that does not give you the right to butt your damn snout into my life. I have a job to do, and I’m trying to get it done so I can go home.”

  “So you do plan on coming home.” Okay, yeah, he’d been a little nervous. She seemed to have a pretty good gig going down here, and hell, the food alone would make him consider moving to New Orleans.

  “Of course I do. I’m a Zilarra dragon. That’s where I belong.”