Razor: Blue Collar Wolves #5 (Mating Season Collection)

by Ronin Winters

  Doc was laughing his ass off, Razor was redder than the sunburn patient she’d treated earlier in the week, and if it wasn’t for her own midnight black skin, everyone would have seen her turn the same shade when Doc leaned in and said low, “Maybe you shouldn’t bend over anymore when that damn fool is around, though I appreciate you trying to keep the porch litter free.”

  Razor. He probably still lived here. Most people who lived in this area didn’t move. Would he be married? Kids?

  How tall had he ended up?

  Should she look him up?

  Ah. The million dollar question there, the one that burned her gut and kept her awake.

  Not initially. There had been the divorce to go through, amicable as possible considering the circumstances, but when there’s a pregnant mistress who is also interested in how it falls out financially, well, there’s no way to avoid all nastiness.

  Then there had been the consideration if she should move back, but one long phone call that had a rotation of at least twelve family members come on to damn near order her home made that decision very easy.

  Then there were the logistics of the cross-country move interspersed with saying goodbye to the friends she’d had in California, and dealing with a seemingly endless string of just one more papers and requests from Damon, and long-distance job hunting, and Aaliyah would burn all her earthly possessions and start fresh if she ever had to move again.

  But once all that was settled, the question that plopped into the middle of her brain and refused to budge was if she should seek out Razor.

  If she put it on paper like a graph, her thoughts concerning Razor would make a U shape. When she first married and moved, she thought about him constantly. The cold earth pain on his features before he ran out the door that final day stayed with her until even now, but while now it had the power to hurt her heart, when it was fresh it had the power to wake her up in a cold sweat or bury her head in her hands to force back tears, one or two of which still always managed to fall.

  But life happened, specifically newlywed, newly moved life, and in time as more of her thoughts and energy went into creating new friends and forming connections with new coworkers, less of it went into thinking of those she left behind, until one day, it was the thought of how long it had been since she thought of Razor had her baking an apple pie that night, taking it to work the next day to the delight of the other nurses.

  Then life happened again, and as it became apparent Damon was not a happily married man, as the squares of the messy quilt that was their life became unraveled and began to fall, her thoughts turned more and more to where her heart still called home, and Razor’s green eyes still resided there.

  Now back where it began, and he would be twenty-six now to her thirty-six.

  Really an old woman.

  Doc’s wasn’t very big. The front desk and waiting area, a couple examination rooms, an x-ray and a lab, the supply room, and Doc’s office where all files, papers, and patient charts were kept. Aaliyah walked in on Bella sitting on top of the desk with Iron looming over her, leaning down and giving her the hottest kiss not filmed in a porno, and yet it was the gentle way his thumb stroked over Bella’s throat that grabbed Aaliyah’s attention, enough that it took her more seconds than it should to knock on the door with several loud thwacks to get their attention.

  Bella broke it off, pushing back at Iron when he moved to follow her. “Sorry about that,” she said, voice breathy. “My husband surprised me.”

  “I noticed.”

  Bella hopped off the desk and moved around Iron, while his eyes never left his wife, and when they slid down to her ass the sound he emitted was so animal-like Aaliyah was tempted to look outside, though she’d seen the man’s mouth and knew it was him.

  Bella turned, fire in her eyes as she stared at him, and Iron gave a half-conciliatory smile that was totally ruined by his eyes taking in the front of her body.

  That had Bella giggling, pointing to the door and going, “Out!”

  Iron pursed his lips to blow her a kiss, then looked over at Aaliyah. His eyes lost the soft look they had when they were on Bella, but what replaced it was still a mystery, some mixture of curiosity and planning and maybe even a little bit of dislike, only a hint.

  Several men looked at her like that in these last few weeks since she’d returned, some of them she remembered from the first time she’d been here, others – like Iron – she never met.

  Maybe Razor’s crush had been obvious to more than just her and Doc. Maybe he spoke of it to his friends. Maybe the men who were looking at her hated her a little for how she had hurt him.

  Or maybe not a damn one knew or remembered her, and she’d built this up so much in her own head, she saw the same motivations on everyone, and they looked at her like that because that’s how they always looked when deciding about someone.

  Iron gave a small tilt of his head and a quiet, “Nice seeing you, Aaliyah,” and was out the door.

  Bella held out her hand to take the forms, looking them over with a quick nod. “Can you believe we’re here doing this?” she said, looking up and giving Aaliyah a conspiratorial wink.

  “I feel like Doc is going to walk in and kick us out for girlifying his space.” It was nice Bella understood, that she grew up near enough the area that she was familiar with Doc and the goings-on around here.

  There had been some long nights at the hospital, and that’s how this began, sharing stories about their lives, which led them to discover the ways they crisscrossed. Bella’s story about growing up with Iron and the two of them finally finding each other had Aaliyah hugging the other woman in happiness, and the heartfelt way the Bella had held Aaliyah’s hand when she talked about the divorce had cemented their friendship, and ultimately, led to the offer of her, once again, being the nurse for Doc’s office.

  There was commotion in the front, and Aaliyah and Bella moved to check it out. Though they were technically closed today, anyone around would come here. Only the direst of situations had anyone going anywhere beside Doc’s.

  There was a small boy cradled against a man’s chest, the boy holding his arm close to him, and the man said, “He fell out of a tree. Think he broke it, Doc.”

  Bella was already in front of the boy, and though she was all soothing strokes and sounds as she looked the boy over, her mouth did quirk at the man calling her Doc. “Pretty sure you’re right. We’ll take the x-ray to be positive, but I think you’re getting a cast young man.”

  The boy groaned, more out of annoyance than pain, and Aaliyah relaxed. This wasn’t bad, and the boy would end up more mad that he wouldn’t be able to play like he wanted then dealing with anything serious.

  They went to the machine, the man placing him down in such a way that suggested he had a bit of experience with this particular piece of equipment, and then he left without prompting.

  It was a simple break, and as Bella was getting the boy in the cast, Aaliyah went out to tell the man what was going on and get the forms filled.

  She walked into the waiting area where the man waited, back to her and looking out the window.

  They grew them tall around here, as her sister had said the couple times she ventured this way to pick Aaliyah up from work, and this man personified it. He was huge, both in height and breadth, but the way he was built everything was in proportion. He didn’t have that puffed-up bodybuilder thing going on. Everything was just…nice.

  And it was time to stop that train of thought, but before she could call out, his hands ran through his dark hair, ruffling the short, slightly curly strands, and he turned to her.

  She’d been so intent on the boy she barely looked at the man, only noting big and gentle in her very quick mental musings.

  But those green eyes in the unfamiliar familiarity of that face – sharpened and squared since she last saw it – and there was no doubt who this was.

  “Razor?”

  Chapter Three

  ‡

  She sm
elled twice as good as he remembered – and he remembered her smelling damn good. Her hair was in a multitude of braids, pulled back from her face and into a ponytail and longer than it had been before. Her face was the same perfection it had always been and those dark eyes were wide with shock.

  He’d wanted their first meeting to be different. Wanted to somehow sweep her off her feet, show her he wasn’t a kid and she could trust he would take care of her.

  Except standing in front of her, the jittery, achy feelings that he always associated with her came back like a bare-knuckled blow to the temple, making him woozy and a little faint, and a little doubting that anything he was seeing could be true.

  “Razor,” she asked, and while her tone had a ton of emotions running through it, he held onto happiness like a lifeline. Whatever else, she was glad about this reunion, and that would do to start.

  “Hey Aaliyah.” Thanks to heavens, his voice didn’t crack. It came out the same way it always did now, which was a lot deeper than what it had been during puberty.

  She looked like she didn’t know what to do with herself, her hands clasping in front of her stomach as her eyes and mouth gave tiny tics, giveaways to her internal debate. She must have come to a decision, because what he mentally labelled Hot Nurse Aaliyah came to the fore. Her hands dropped and her chin stiffened, and when she was like this he could so see her in an emergency situation, both issuing orders and taking them when needed, and all the while with that soothing manner that told any patient they could trust her. “Your son is fine. It’s a simple break, nothing more, and–”

  “He’s not my son. I don’t have kids.” That misconception couldn’t be allowed to stand. “I was watching over him. Guess I didn’t do the best job.” His hand came up to scratch the back of his now-hot neck. Damn, first time she saw him, and it’s because he let a kid get hurt on his watch.

  Here her arms crossed over her chest and that special look he swore was only for him came over her face, the one where her head tilted and the right corner of her mouth tilted up even as her lips pressed together, and it looked like she was debating between shaking her head and rolling her eyes, all the while holding back a smile. “If that boy is related to anyone in your old gang, I guarantee there was nothing you could have done to stop him from getting into trouble.”

  She had him there. “He’s Track’s boy.”

  “And I rest my case.”

  “You look good.” It was probably too soon to say anything, but damn, she did, standing there all gorgeous, barely changed from the last time he saw her. She wasn’t a giant, but she was tall enough, wearing a short sleeved shirt and black slacks which she might have picked to be boring and professional, but to his eyes it hid nothing of those curves he’d never stopped dreaming of.

  She had long, slim fingers and the prettiest hands, and if she told him the only way she’d wrap those fingers around his cock was if he dressed up as the Easter bunny, he’d get the most pastel colored suit in existence and hop over to her house. Once again, those hands clasped together in front of her stomach, a nervous habit she never could seem to break. “Um, you look good too. Grew tall.”

  Razor damn near preened because while the words might be easy, standard, something anyone might say after not seeing anyone in a long time, the way her eyes traveled his body told she was seeing things she liked.

  He could work with that. Fuck, he could do anything. She was free, here in front of him, and he’d follow Steel’s lead of kidnapping his woman and chaining her to his bed if she ever tried to go away again.

  But before he did that, he’d go the old-fashioned route first, which was getting her so addicted to his dick she’d never think of leaving.

  Good plan.

  “Does it feel strange, to be back here?” As much as he wanted to go over there and drag her into his arms, it might be a better idea to relax her a bit. The longer she stood looking at him, the more her nerves came to the fore, replacing the shock and surprise she started with.

  “In a good way.” She nodded, those pretty braids bouncing around her head, and with their movement came the flash vision of wrapping them around his dick as she licked all around.

  Fuck. Not the time for blue balls, and not the time to scare her by tenting his pants. He managed to somehow not do that when he was sixteen, and he wasn’t going to start now.

  Bella came out then, her gaze questioning as it darted between them. He hadn’t told her the history, though she knew enough to make an educated guess what was going on. “It’s all good. There is a fracture, but it’s clean, and I expect it to heal very well.”

  Aaliyah startled, as if only now she remembered the job she was here for. “I’ll get him set for release.” With a small nod to Razor, she left to go back to the exam room.

  As soon as Aaliyah was out of sight Bella advanced. “Something you want to tell me?”

  “No.” And he didn’t. This was still too new, and though he wanted Aaliyah as much as he ever did, he was off-balance right now. He loved Bella, but he didn’t want this up for examination by her.

  Bella nodded her understanding. “If you ever need me, I’m here.”

  “Thanks.”

  And then there was no more time for revisiting his past, because he had a little boy to get home and a worried father to reassure everything was alright, and it was only when he was at Iron’s that night that his thoughts drifted again to his true mate’s reappearance in his life.

  Iron wasn’t there, but Ash was, placing beers on the bar and flirting with every woman who came up to grab a drink.

  Ash was the same age as him and Tank, and were part of the group who knew about Aaliyah being his mate from the first scenting, unlike Iron or Steel or the older wolves who didn’t hang out with the younger group as much. When Aaliyah got married and left, those friends closed rank. They never mentioned her to him or mentioned to any other wolves about Razor’s true mate having been found and lost at the ripe old age of sixteen. They let it be, and Razor would never forget what he owed them. It was probably the only thing that saved his sanity in those early days, along with his responsibility to his brothers.

  Ash looked away from a pretty blonde at his coming, grabbing a beer from underneath the bar. With a wink at the woman, he sidled to the other side of the bar, waiting for Razor to sit. “What’s the news? Look kind of smug there.”

  Fuck. He did want to talk, but he didn’t want to broadcast to the bar his secrets. He wiped his hand down the front of his face in an attempt to wipe away any expressions. “Iron here tonight?”

  “Nah man, says he doesn’t want to deal with the unmated pups running wild when he has a sexy and pregnant mate home to take care of. That was a direct quote, in case you couldn’t tell.”

  “Never would have been able to,” Razor deadpanned, especially since he was included in that statement. Iron now knew Aaliyah was his true mate – any wolf with a nose did – but he hadn’t told the beta of the pack any details. “He hired anyone to take over from Mel yet?”

  “Not yet, which means my ass is getting all the overtime. Not that I mind, too many pretty ladies who want to wait for me until closing,” Ash said, his eyes following the blonde from earlier as she did a very deliberate sashay past them on her way to her friends at the pool table.

  The group of women were definitely putting on a show for Ash and a few of the other men around, all of them wolves, by leaning over the pool table and dancing with each other. Razor could appreciate the sight the way people appreciated looking at pretty paintings, but it did nothing for him. Now if Aaliyah wore a skirt that short and started dancing…yeah, he’d have to punch every fucking wolf in this bar out for looking at her, so maybe it was a good thing Aaliyah wasn’t here.

  Tank walked in, coming over to the bar but not without a quick look-over at the women, who all returned the interest. Tank might be shorter than him, but Tank had that hard muscle thing that only MMA fighters seemed to possess, and the women were very happily ogling hi
m.

  With the quick eye all bartenders possessed, Ash had the beer on the bar before Tank reached them, and Tank was had the bottle to his mouth before he was seated.

  “So,” Tank began, putting the bottle down. “Heard you saw Taneasha.”

  Ash looked up, all surprised eyes and raised eyebrows. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

  “I don’t know how this one heard it so quickly,” replied Razor, pointing his thumb over at Tank. “It was only this afternoon. Did your sewing circle meet up right after and start talking about me?”

  “We were working our embroidery today,” Tank said, all laconic drawl, the tattoo on his neck stark against the white of his tee. “Nah man, had to go over to Track’s to talk some Jacobson shit. He told me.”

  The word Jacobson cast a quick pall over the group, each wolf grabbing a quick drink from his beer as if to wash thoughts of the bastard away. It faded when Ash asked, “Did you ask her out? Did you ask her to marry you?”

  “I have more restraint than that. What?” Razor protested at the disbelieving look the other two wolves were throwing him.

  “Try that shit on people who don’t know you. I’m surprised you didn’t jump on her the minute you got close. Or did you? Track wasn’t exactly sure.”

  Razor side-eyed Tank after that comment. “No, I didn’t jump her. I’m not a dog.”

  “You’re a wolf, which in this instance is similar.” Tank motioned to the women still by the pool tables with his beer bottle. “Or is it you don’t know what to do with a woman, considering I don’t see you flirting with the ladies.”

  Razor flipped Tank off, grabbing his beer bottle, but Tank was proven correct only seconds later when a few women came up to the bar – ostensibly to get drinks, but ended up chatting with Ash and Tank, and trying to chat with Razor. He put up with it for a minute before grabbing his bottle and heading outside.