by Afton Locke
“You win,” Alan said with a measured breath. “Let me grab a quick shower. Then we’ll go to the diner. I’ll help you cook today.”
What about tomorrow? He wasn’t sure he could get through the day, let alone another. By tonight, he needed to have a plan in place for his father’s final days. He should’ve known the old man would fight him every step of the way.
Alan trudged toward the bathroom. Maybe some hot water would give him the strength he needed to get through the challenge facing him. Whatever he had to do, he’d grit his fangs and do it. The sooner he could return to the sane life waiting for him up north the better.
***
Shelley unlocked Moonlight Diner and carried in a crate of oranges fresh from the grove in her family farm. She’d make her bigger, weekly delivery tomorrow. This morning, she needed to tackle payroll and clean the refrigerator, which Don had probably left dirty enough to fail a health inspection.
Much as she loved being surrounded by the pack, she hoped for some time alone. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and when she had, she’d dreamed of Alan—sinking his wild fangs into her neck in the mating bond while he pumped his hardness into her. She’d woken up drenched, especially her panties.
Before opening the large refrigerator to load it with oranges, she touched her lips. Because wolves were quick healers, the swelling had disappeared. Had she really torn into his pants like a dog in heat?
In high school, she’d dreamed of a romantic prom date with him. In it, she accepted his corsage, held his hand, and slow danced with him to a love ballad while she gazed into his chocolate-brown eyes. While his alluring scent wrapped around them, she kissed him, slowly and tenderly. The promise of beautiful lovemaking hovered around them, but lust was not part of the picture.
Acting like a whore in a dirty, old pickup truck didn’t come close to the dream. His scent had completely overpowered her, melting away the years and heating her stewing guilt to the burning point. Her recent fatigue from doing too much lately hadn’t helped her self-control, either.
By looking at her, would Curtis guess what she’d done with another man? Was the truth in her eyes? After confessing her true feelings to Alan, she’d found several text messages from Curtis on her phone. Apparently, he’d spotted her empty truck in the diner lot last night and wondered where she was. She’d replied to ease his mind, relieved she could do it digitally.
As soon as she saw him today in person, though, she had to tell him she couldn’t marry him. Anticipation twisted her stomach. She’d sensed Alan didn’t want to hang out in Moonlight very long. Most likely, she’d end up alone. It would be better than being with the wrong man, though. Maybe she could convince him to stay. After all, they were mates.
The bell above the front door jingled as she stowed the last orange. She frowned. It was too early for the breakfast crowd. She hadn’t had a chance to fire up the grill yet. Dusting off her hands, she headed to the dining room.
A thrill shot through her at the sight of Alan. He must have just showered because the neck of his shirt looked damp and he smelled like fresh soap. Underneath, his unique scent teased her, reminding her of their passionate kiss and the taste of his hardness.
She looked down at her tank top and frowned. Not even noon yet and it already had a couple of dirt smudges on it. She might as well not even bother to wear white.
Blinking, she noticed Don standing beside him, wearing his apron when he should be home resting instead. By the grim set of Alan’s jaw, she suspected the older man had won an argument. Alan definitely had his hands full. Good. Maybe his father’s stubbornness would keep him here for a while. At least long enough to convince him she was right for him.
“I didn’t expect to see you, Mr. Shifflett,” she said, hiding her attraction to his son with a poised smile. “Have a seat and I’ll fix you some breakfast.”
“Thanks, but we already ate,” he grumbled, heading toward the kitchen. “Alan, cut some vegetables for omelets. I’ll get the grill going.”
“I tried, but he insisted on coming.” Alan shot her a defeated grin and shrugged. “I’m going to help him out here today.”
She stared at the swinging kitchen door. “Don’t worry. He’ll wear himself out and realize he needs to rest. That’ll get through to him better than being told what to do.”
When he took a step toward the kitchen, she grasped his forearm and steered him toward a corner instead.
“About last night,” she murmured. “I’m sorry for the way I acted.”
“You mean it wasn’t a dream?” His face hardened. “I figured you’d regret it. Consider it forgotten.”
Panic welled up in her when he turned to leave. “No, I meant every word I said. The wolf in me bypassed the romance, but we have time for that.”
“I’m here for my father, not romance. I thought I made that clear.”
A cold chill swept through her. “When Curtis arrives, I’m going to tell him I can’t marry him.”
“Well, don’t base your decision on me.” He swept a cool glance over her. “I have a job and a home to return to. I don’t plan to stay.”
She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her shorts. The gesture felt strange because she always kept her hands busy. At the moment, though, nothing mattered except getting to know the man she truly wanted. She forgot about the day’s chores and even Curtis.
“So, what do you do for a living?” she asked.
“I’m a computer programmer. I design software.”
“You were always the smart one.”
“Working with logic gives me self-control.” His stony expression softened. “Or at least the illusion of it. I taught myself the skills I needed and got my college degree online at night.”
“Sounds like we have hard work in common.” Did he use it as a distraction like she did? “I wrote you some letters after high-school graduation, but you never answered them.”
“I figured they were a joke,” he said without expression.
She withdrew her hand from her shorts pocket. “I want you to know I kept this.”
He stared at the folded piece of notebook paper she handed him. The thing had been opened so many times it was as frayed and worn as an old scrap of cloth.
“What’s that?”
“One of your poems, from English class.” She lowered her eyelids, feeling like a teenager all over again.
He opened it so slowly and carefully, she had a hard time imagining his past violence. Watching his gentle fingers made her ache to feel them on her body. He’d written about beauty, and she didn’t have to ask who’d inspired him. His lips moved as he read it silently, and she fought the urge to kiss them again. He finally looked up, his eyes deep pools of melted candy.
“You kept my poem all these years?” he asked.
“I stored it in my bureau, but I brought it today, hoping I’d see you.”
When he handed it back, she held up her palm. “You wrote it, so you should keep it.”
“But I wrote it about you, and I’m afraid it doesn’t change anything.”
Should she stash it into one of the deep pockets on his cargo pants? What was the use? She folded and jammed the paper back into her own pocket as she scrambled for something to say. He clearly wanted to return to his other life and forget her. She might as well stay out of his way until he did. It would make it easier to get him out of her mind when he left…again.
The sound of a metal pan dropping to the floor pierced the quiet.
“I have to go help Dad,” he mumbled as he rushed away. But when he looked back, the wolf in her gasped at the longing in his eyes.
Before she could calm the emotions swirling through her, the bell above the door jingled again.
“Hey, beautiful.” A familiar kiss brushed her cheek.
Curtis was here already, and she hadn’t even had coffee yet.
He eased into the nearest chair, graceful as always. “You’re here
early. Need any help?”
“No, thanks. Alan and his father are in the kitchen.”
Still prickling from Alan’s rejection, she glanced toward the kitchen door. Ripping up the old poem later might make her feel better, but she doubted it.
“Is he going to take over running the place?” The edge in his voice made it clear he wasn’t thrilled at the idea.
“I don’t know.” And don’t care, she thought, feeling like the spoiled teen she used to be.
He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Well, ask them to cook us some steak and eggs. I’m starved.”
The urge to marry him to spite Alan zapped her harder than a bolt of electricity, but she had more maturity than that. She’d made her decision, and Alan’s aloofness this morning gave her the nerve she needed.
She gripped his hand to still it. “We need to talk first.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” He narrowed his blue eyes. “You’ve made your decision about us, haven’t you?”
She nodded, looking down at their joined hands. “Curtis, you’re a very special man. I’m so thankful you’re part of the pack and my life.”
“But—”
Dropping her hand, she forced herself to look into his eyes. “I can’t marry you.”
“What?” He froze for a moment then blinked and tossed his head. “You were with him last night, weren’t you?”
“No…yes. He’s my mate.”
Curtis stood, scraping his chair across the wooden floor. “Do me a favor and don’t invite me to your wedding.”
“I’m not marrying him, either,” she said, her voice dull and dead.
“Well, I hope you’ll be happy alone.”
He reeled toward the front door and bumped into Derek on his way out.
“Sorry, man,” he told the tall Alpha with a quick bow of his head.
“No problem.” Derek entered and turned to her with a puzzled frown above his golden eyes. “What’s with him? And you, for that matter. Did you two have an argument?”
Usually, she loved the connectedness of the pack. When one hurt, the others felt it. Today wasn’t one of those days. At the moment, she wished she had a simple life to escape to like Alan did. She sniffed, fished a tissue out of her other pocket, and wiped her eyes. Were her tears for him or Curtis? Probably both—for very different reasons.
“Yes, Derek. I told him I’m not marrying him.”
He straightened Curtis’s chair and sat in it. “I think that’s a wise decision.”
“You do?”
“He’s not your mate. The union would not strengthen the pack.” He patted her arm. “Be patient. Your true mate will find his way to you eventually.”
She wadded up the damp tissue. “I’m afraid he already has.”
His brow lowered, and he leaned toward her, making him look every bit the protective wolf he was. “Alan?”
“Yes, but not to worry. He plans to leave as soon as he can.”
“Good. I don’t trust him.”
But, for some reason, she did. He was part of the pack and belonged here. Although it might be easier to let him leave again, she couldn’t. Aside from her selfish feelings, his father needed him. Her sixth sense, warning of some unseen danger, told her the pack needed him, too.
Whatever it took, she had to convince him to stay, even if her heart broke in the process.
Chapter Four
Alan groaned as he stared at the diner kitchen at the end of the day. It looked as if a hurricane had blown straight through it. Batter spills crusting on the counter. Vegetable peelings on the floor. Where to begin? He resigned himself to clean the grill first since it served as the heart of the kitchen.
Shelley had driven Dad home an hour ago to rest. The man had been more of a hindrance than a help, criticizing everything Alan did.
“I’m a computer programmer, not a restauranteur,” he’d muttered more than once.
But Don had sassed him back each time, until he weakened and almost fell face first into the fryer basket. Alan needed some rest himself. Every muscle in his body ached with fatigue. The only good thing about exhaustion was it tamed the beast in him.
It also kept his mind off Shelley. The vulnerable expression on her face this morning had punched him in the chest. He’d hurt her. Despite what she’d done to him on prom night, he had no desire for revenge.
The lines of his stupid poem danced before his eyes all day. Her feelings for him were as real as that frayed piece of paper. He hoped she understood why they couldn’t act on them. She’d been in and out of the diner today, cleaning and ordering supplies. Every time he looked at her, a knife twisted in his heart, reminding him what they could have.
He slid the spatula across the grill, the scrape of metal on metal matching his mood. Yeah, he could have everything if he was normal—great sex, love, family. In between orders for omelets and burgers, he’d kept picturing her soft white tank top and her shorter-than-sin shorts. Peeling them off, tossing them to the floor, and pulling her into bed while their children slept down the hall. Hazel eyes gazing up at him with love. The spatula dropped with a clatter.
My woman, the wolf in him screamed.
Well, he wasn’t normal. Although he’d had the mutation his whole life, it had never been more unbearable.
I have to get out of Moonlight.
Okay, he’d run the place a whole day, and it sucked. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he liked the customers. The tourists were okay, but he could do without the pack. They stared suspicious holes into him every time he set foot in the dining room. Luckily, Curtis hadn’t been among them. The man had a score to settle with him. He could have Shelley, but if she didn’t want him, that was their problem.
Besides, Alan already had a job—a much easier one that paid better—to return to. Living beast free gave him a great bonus. Dad clearly couldn’t handle the diner anymore. As he scraped a river of black grease into the grease trough, the answer became clear.
Moonlight Diner needed to be sold.
How long would it take? Moonlight was a pretty rural town, but it received a healthy flow of tourists. Time on the market would probably depend on the price. Hopefully, a pack member would grab it up. He closed his eyes and grimaced as he anticipated laying his decision on Dad. The man would curse him from one end of Florida to another.
When the kitchen door swung open, he caught his breath at the sight of Curtis. The guy had lousy timing for settling scores. Alan felt tired enough to collapse into the grease bucket.
“Rough day?” Curtis asked.
The man’s casual tone didn’t fool him. He reeked of aggression, and his arm muscles looked tenser than iron as he rocked on his heels. The prom fight loomed between them like a third person in the room. Alan’s beast couldn’t forget the coppery tang of the man’s blood scent or the shape of his bones.
Maybe if he played nice, his old rival would go away and leave him alone.
“Yeah.” Alan emptied the grease container into a bucket and grabbed the grill’s cleaning brick. “Running a diner isn’t easy. I don’t know how Dad did it for so many years.”
“Ready to throw in the towel already, eh?” Curtis shot him one of his killer smiles. Not a single snaggly tooth in his whole mouth. “Have you made plans for the place?”
Alan hesitated, but his decision would be common knowledge soon enough. Maybe Curtis himself would buy it. Why did an image of him and Shelley working here side by side twist his gut so hard?
“If Dad agrees, I want to sell it now.” Alan scoured the grill with the brick, channeling his tension into the sweeping motions of his hands. “Spread the word to the rest of the pack.”
He’d start there out of courtesy, but he’d make it public, if necessary.
Curtis’s blue eyes lit up. “Will do. I gather you’ll be leaving again?”
Alan nodded. “Once everything is settled here. I’ll be back for the….” Salty heat flared b
ehind his eyes because he couldn’t say the word. Funeral. As irritating as Dad had acted today, Alan couldn’t deny the rightness of being close to kin. And his mate.
“Of course,” Curtis replied. So, why didn’t he leave?
“Anything else on your mind?” Alan rinsed the brick. “I’m kind of busy here and tired as hell.”
“Yeah, one more thing.” Aggression poured off his rival in waves as he stalked closer to the grill. “While you’re here, stay away from Shelley.”
The beast in Alan stirred, wanting to punch the insolent expression off his face. It didn’t much like being ordered around. Instead, he squeezed the cleaning brick, pretending the man’s neck lay in its place. Although tempted to fling the rejected marriage proposal at him, too, he wasn’t looking for a fight tonight.
“I intend to.”
If Curtis felt so determined to mark his territory, why didn’t he urinate in a circle around her? The image made Alan grin and forget his anger.
“Have a good night,” the guy told him before he left the kitchen.
Have a good night? Maybe they’d both grown up. Being on the same side this time helped. If Alan decided to stay here and claim his mate, though, he’d definitely have a fight on his hands.
***
Shelley pulled into Moonlight Diner’s parking lot the next morning. Dread and excitement filled her belly when she noticed Alan’s rental car was the only other one here. At least Curtis didn’t attack him after she’d rejected his proposal. Everyone had matured.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach when she walked inside and discovered Alan really was alone. The ripe aroma of peppers filled the air as he cut them. When she set down a crate of oranges on the counter, he dropped the knife.
The clothes he wore must have been his own because they fit perfectly. The light-blue tank top hugged his chest the way she longed to. And his jeans. She couldn’t even look at them without wanting to brush against his narrow hips and muscular thighs. They fit in here better than the dumb business getup he’d worn the day he’d arrived. He even had a black bandana tied around his head.
