Dragon's Fake Wedding Date (Dragons of Mount Atrox Book 3)

by Riley Storm

  Chapter Five

  Gayle

  She peered in through the door nervously, unsure of whether or not to proceed.

  Gayle hadn’t been to this bar before, not since it had been bought and renamed The Dragon’s Eye, at least. She’d wanted to come check it out before, but apparently her boyfriend had been banned from it.

  Ex-boyfriend. Gayle had to remind herself of the change in their status. She had no boyfriend anymore. Or best friend, for that matter.

  At least I have other friends. Maybe one of them can ascend to best friend status.

  Regardless of her lack of familiarity with the bar, it seemed like the best place for her to go for a drink. She certainly wasn’t going to venture over to Climbers or Peaks Pub, where she was far more likely to run into her ex-boyfriend and his new girl. She didn’t need that.

  Her eyes roamed around the inside. It was rather sparsely populated for a Friday evening, she noted, wondering where everyone was. Or perhaps it was always like this? Groups of men and the odd woman randomly spaced out across the tables and booths.

  She started to look over at the bartender when a man sitting at one of the booths caught her eye. He was staring back at her, and Gayle had to fight to recover her breath as their eyes met.

  He’s gorgeous.

  The dimly lit interior of the bar made it hard for her to make out much more than his hard jaw, long flowing hair that fell forward of his shoulders, and his eyes. Beautiful pools of deep jade that threatened to pull her deep into their abyssal depths, forever lost.

  A pain in her chest reminded her of the need to breathe, and Gayle sucked in a sharp breath, the action breaking the eye contact whilst simultaneously sending a shiver racing down her spine at the simple memory of the moment.

  Whoa. Down girl.

  Forcing herself to look away, Gayle made eye contact with the bartender, a lovely woman with black hair, standing next to a huge specimen of masculinity. While he was undeniably attractive, Gayle’s eyes spent little time on him. Eye candy, nothing more.

  “Excuse me,” she called across the open bar, stepping just a little farther inside.

  “Can I help you?” the bartender asked with genuine sincerity, immediately warming Gayle to the entire establishment.

  “Um, maybe. Do you happen to know if someone named Mike Kostwick is banned from here?” she asked cautiously.

  The bartender frowned, while the mountain of muscle next to her gave an Atlas-like shrug.

  “Um, Mikey the Plumber, maybe?” she said, using the nickname.

  The reaction was immediate and visceral. The male next to the bartender surged forward, eyes lighting up with amber fury as he moved to put himself between the door and the bartender in a move that could be defined as nothing other than protective. At the same time his growl reached out and all but slapped Gayle, like a physical object in its ferocity.

  “Relax Kal,” the bartender said, stepping to the side so she could still make eye contact. “Yes, I’m sorry, he is not welcome here now or ever. You’ll have to go somewhere else if he’s with you.”

  Gayle stepped fully inside, letting the door close behind her. “He absolutely is not,” she said in relief. “I’m staying here then. Uh, if that’s okay?”

  The bartender tilted her head sideways before understanding flooded her. “Come on in,” she said, beckoning to the bar itself. “It’ll be okay. Kal’s just a bit overprotective.”

  Gayle smiled tightly and wandered up to the bar, her eyes only once flickering over to the booth where the jade-eyed hunk sat. He was staring straight ahead now, a troubled look on his face while some of his comrades leaned forward to speak to him, their mouths turned up with smiles.

  Who is he? she wondered to herself. Why was he staring at me like that? Why couldn’t I look away? Do I know him? I feel like I would remember someone who looked like…that.

  “Thank you,” Gayle said as she slid into a stool.

  “Don’t mention it,” the bartender said, flicking her long raven-hair behind her shoulder. “I’m Anne, by the way.”

  “Gayle.”

  Anne looked at her. “Are you okay Gayle?” she asked quietly in a concerned tone. “Do you need us to call the police?”

  Gayle’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  Anne bit her lip, hesitating, but at gentle nod from Kal she proceeded softly. “Is Mikey… Is he hurting you?”

  “Hurting—Oh,” she said, realizing what they must think. “No, no, he’s never raised anything but his voice. Never his hands. He’s a dick but not an abuser. Thank you though, but that’s not why I need to get away from him.”

  Both Anne and Kal visibly relaxed.

  “So, why do you need to get away from him?” Anne asked. “It’s not often people want to come somewhere that a person they know is unwelcome.”

  Gayle looked down at the squeaky-clean bar top. “Honestly, it’s kind of complicated. I need a drink first, I think. At least one. Something smooth but strong.”

  Anne smiled. “I can manage that.” She turned to grab a glass and started mixing something colorful and strong, judging by the amount of liquor Gayle saw splashing into it.

  While she waited, Gayle looked around again, taking in the interior of the bar. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” she remarked.

  She was sure that Anne must have said something in reply, probably a thanks or something similar, but if she did, Gayle never heard a sound of it. Her eyes had once more locked upon the man in the booth. He was staring at her again, and she felt her heart begin to pound harder with every beat. She couldn’t look away.

  His face was practically immobile, frozen as he stared at her, his eyes wide and oval, set in a gorgeous model-esque face that had angles sharp enough she was sure they must be carved from stone.

  There was a mystery in him, she decided. Something hidden within those vibrant green eyes. That must be what held her attention so easily. The hidden truth in its depths.

  Anne plunked her drink down with some force, jerking Gayle out of the staring contest. She rapidly spun away, hunched over the drink, and took a deep sip through the provided straw.

  “Oh my,” she said, coughing at the strength of it. “That is strong.”

  Focus on the drink, she urged herself. Not some man you’ve never met. The absolute last thing you need right now is drama with a new man. Mind your own business, girl.

  She stiffened at the sound of hushed voices and the rustling of sound from the booth. Someone was getting up.

  Oh god, please be someone else. Please don’t be him. Please don’t be coming over here.

  Footsteps sounded on the floor as they approached her.

  Chapter Six

  Rann

  “Aren’t you going to go talk to her?” Jacen said, needling as he slid back into his seat.

  Rann glared at him then twisted his head slightly to look at her again, watching Trent walk past her and into the back, headed for the washrooms. He wanted to go over there and strike up a conversation. He couldn’t deny it.

  “You’re usually all over something like that,” Trent teased. “Are you finally taking my words to heart and waiting for your mate instead, is that it?”

  Jacen snorted. “I think he’s just nervous guys. Cat’s got his tongue this time around, and he’s not ready to go over and chat her up. He’s lost his courage. She’s getting the better of him.”

  Rann wanted to deny it all, to tell them that they were wrong. He wanted to go over and show them that they were wrong as well. That he could still chat up any human woman that he wanted to, regardless of time or situation. His charm would see him through, he should be telling them. That she didn’t stand a chance.

  So why aren’t I? Why am I sitting here still like an idiot?

  The answer, of course, was staring him right in the face, if he chose to acknowledge it.

  There was something different about this one. Something that he couldn’t figure out was affecting him, keeping him mor
e restrained than he might normally be.

  “So you gonna go talk to her or not?” Kladd challenged. “Or are you gonna let Jacen do the honors?”

  Rann’s head snapped around to glare at his team leader. “I’ll talk to her,” he growled, making it clear to everyone at the table that they were not to go over to the bar before he did.

  Several sets of eyebrows rose slightly at the bared challenge, but none of them responded, content to let him have his way.

  What is wrong with you? He pondered that question as he slid from the booth, unused to the emotions roiling inside him. Jealousy wasn’t that unusual to him. When Rann spotted a woman he wanted, he went right for her, and he didn’t care about anyone else in his way.

  This one, though, this one was different. He wasn’t feeling jealous. No, this was different. More possessive than anything.

  She’s mine.

  He was laying a claim to her and didn’t even know her name!

  Get a grip on yourself. You’ve not even exchanged a single word. For all you know, you might find her boring and dull.

  As he walked over to the bar, his very steps felt lighter, like a predator stalking his prey. Or someone walking on air. His brain was foggy, and he was having a hard time differentiating between the two. Had he ever experienced the latter before?

  “Do you mind if I sit here?” he rumbled as she turned her head slightly to glance at him, but not far enough to look him in the eyes.

  Not that he could blame her. Both times they’d done that before, the connection had been almost electric. He kept his eyes focused on the rest of her instead.

  She was short and thick everywhere, with a bevy of curves that his hands were already aching to explore thoroughly. Rann wondered what she would feel like pressed up against him.

  Or beneath him.

  His dragon roared its agreement and enjoyment at that idea, wanting nothing more than to haul her out the door now and into the back of his truck. Hot, sweaty sex in the cramped confines of his vehicle sounded perfect to him, and he almost threw the offer out there, just to see her leap at the chance to have sex with him, like they all did.

  But for some reason, he didn’t. Instead, he waited for her to respond to his original question, with unusual politeness and calm. Unusual for him at least.

  “I suppose it’s an open seat, isn’t it?” she said, giving him the tiniest of shrugs that did wonderful things to her upper body.

  Rann pondered that reply, wondering why he wasn’t already sliding in next to her. What was holding him back from doing just that? He frowned.

  “Are you okay if I sit there,” he said, making it clear that he was more interested in her okay as opposed to a lack of denial.

  This time she did look up at him, but she carefully managed to stare between his eyes and not into them before studying the rest of him.

  She was even more beautiful up close. Plump, rosy cheeks and a tiny little button nose surrounded a mouth that was made for kissing and smiling. Thick lips that just seemed to want to curve upward on their own, regardless of the situation.

  Rann decided then and there he wanted to see her laugh. His night wouldn’t be complete until then.

  See her laugh? Her laugh? Of all things you could see, why is that one of them? What is going on here?

  Anne snorted from behind the bar.

  Rann looked at her, as did the unknown woman.

  “What?” he asked, trying to keep his voice pleasant instead of challenging.

  He liked Anne. She was fair and no-nonsense, and the Dragon’s Eye was a real boon to the shifters when they were hanging out in Five Peaks. It was a place they could go and relax and not have to worry about the outside world pressing in on them, as it had ever since his kind had been revealed to the world.

  Anne was ignoring him, however, and instead focused on the woman.

  “Be careful with this one,” Anne said in a gentle tone.

  Rann ground his teeth, but a shifting of muscle behind Anne kept him from saying anything. He didn’t want to tangle with Kal, even if they were probably evenly matched. There was a matter of respect, after all, and it wasn’t as if Kal or Anne could tell that this wasn’t just another conquest for Rann.

  This one was different. Perhaps even special, if he could just have the chance to talk to her.

  “Why?” the woman asked after a long moment.

  Anne smiled tightly. “He’s not an asshole, just…a flight risk.” She looked over at Rann and shrugged as if to say, ‘it’s true, and it’s my job to make sure she knows that’.

  Maybe Anne did know something was up. After all, this was the first time she’d ever intervened when Rann came to talk to a woman at her bar.

  “I think you both have misunderstood,” the woman said, shifting in her chair. “I’m not looking for anything like that right now. Not after what happened. I need some time before I’m open to that. But thank you.”

  Before Anne could open her mouth, Rann spoke instead. “What happened? You look a little…I don’t mean this rudely, but you seem a little tightly wound.”

  The woman laughed. It was a mixed sound, both of laughter and sadness. But it had still been a laugh, and Rann’s chest filled to bursting. He wanted more of it. More of her. Not even Anne’s warning was going to get in the way of him at least learning her name.

  “That would be a bit of an understatement,” the woman said, taking another long sip of her drink, tilting it toward Anne in thanks. “But then again, what would you do if you found out that your boyfriend and best friend just revealed to you that they’ve been seeing each other behind your back and are now leaving you to be together?”

  Rann growled angrily, rage at anyone who would hurt her surging up through him in an unprovoked wave. He fought to restrain his dragon, reminding himself that he didn’t know this woman or her ex-boyfriend/friend. Much as he wanted to teach that asshole a lesson, it wasn’t his place.

  “Oh, and did I mention that they still want me to be their friend? To act as if nothing has changed?”

  It took a long handful of thunderous heartbeats for Rann to process the mentality behind such a thought. In the end he couldn’t.

  “What the fuck?” he spat angrily.

  The woman was halfway through a sip of her drink and choked slightly as she nearly snorted it out of her nose before she started to laugh again.

  Rann’s heart soared, but he wasn’t about to forget his manners

  “Sorry,” he muttered, reaching over the bar to grab some napkins before Anne could and handing them to the woman.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said, laughing some more while taking the napkins and mopping up the spilled liquid before dabbing her face with them. “It’s just that those were my exact words and reaction when they told me.”

  “Ah.”

  “Thanks, by the way.”

  He tilted his head. “For what?”

  She shrugged, giving him a quick glance out of the corner of her eyes, though it didn’t linger long. “I needed to laugh. To just let a bit of it out.”

  “I can only imagine,” Rann rumbled, his anger subsiding as he relaxed into the conversation. “Must have been a rough night.”

  The woman turned fully now, and their eyes made contact once more. Perhaps it was the proximity. Perhaps it was having spoken to her. Rann wasn’t sure, but this time, though, he was still mesmerized by them, he didn’t freeze.

  He watched her nose crinkle slightly, and she took in his clothing for the first time.

  “Maybe I wasn’t the only one having a rough night,” she said. “You smell like smoke. Burning smoke, not cigarette I mean.”

  He grimaced. “It’s not a boyfriend/best friend double-dumping story, so I’m afraid it can’t compare.”

  She tilted her head in an almost exact mimicry of him a minute earlier. “Aren’t you going to tell me what happened?”

  Rann hesitated. He didn’t want to tell her what he was. Not just yet. That took time. But he didn�
��t want to lie either.

  “I flew out of an exploding building,” he said bluntly.

  She watched him in open disbelief for a moment, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she blinked several times, chewed on her lower lip, then nodded. “Right. And why did you do that?”

  His face curved up in a smile at the calm, even delivery of her question. “That’s a long story,” he told her gently. “For another time perhaps.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m Rann, by the way,” he said, shoving his hand out toward her, stopping half a foot short.

  She looked at his hand, and he could see the hesitation in her. If she introduced herself, it would indicate her acceptance of his presence for the time being. She could choose to do that, as he hoped, but Rann was aware she might choose not to give him her name and send him on his way.

  To his utter surprise, he realized he was nervous that she might choose to remain anonymous. He’d never had this feeling before, not with a woman. He was Rann, fire dragon, sex symbol to human women. They wanted him. They should be nervous, not him!

  When she finally stuck her hand out and took his, he nearly twitched in surprise.

  “Gayle,” she said as his hand enveloped her much tinier one, his fingers nearly touching around the back.

  Rann had to fight the instinct to raise her hand to his mouth to brush the knuckles against his lips, and he nearly lost that battle, his dragon shouting at him that it was only proper.

  No. She’s not interested in that right now. She needs to relax. To blow off some steam.

  “Do you wanna go for a walk?” he asked abruptly, the question at complete odds with his internal dialog. “Get some air, clear your head.”

  Gayle frowned. “I don’t know, Rann. I just got dumped. I really shouldn’t.”

  He started to nod but stopped when she looked over at Anne, as if asking for advice. That was when he noticed that her hand was still in his. Still touching him. A bolt of lightning raced up his arm and into his heart, spurring it along at a faster rate.