Bonded to the Alpha Wolf: Paranormal Bad Boy Werewolf Interracial BBW BWWM Witch Romance

Home > Romance > Bonded to the Alpha Wolf: Paranormal Bad Boy Werewolf Interracial BBW BWWM Witch Romance > Page 7
Bonded to the Alpha Wolf: Paranormal Bad Boy Werewolf Interracial BBW BWWM Witch Romance Page 7

by Jasmine Wylder


  “If that’s the case, then you’re probably right about what you said, earlier: someone set you up.” She created a latticework top to the pie and wrapped aluminum foil around the edge of the crust to keep it from burning during the initial baking time. “But you also have to bear in mind that whoever did this wanted to see your father dead. They knew it would be easy to use you as a patsy and make you take the fall.” She slipped the pie into the oven. Closing the door, she straightened and turned to Justin. “So maybe instead of asking ‘who would want to frame me?’ you should be asking ‘who would want to kill the Alpha?’”

  He made a sour face. “Apparently, everyone seems to think I would.”

  “No,” she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Get off that train of thought because it just keeps taking you in circles. Start thinking about your father’s enemies. He had to have some – every leader does. Are there other packs of werewolves out there, maybe some rival of your own, that might have had some feud going on with him? Or maybe it was an inside job, someone who didn’t like him.”

  “As far as I know, everyone loved him,” Justin said. “I never heard anyone say anything bad about him.”

  “That would make sense,” she said. She cleaned up her work space in preparation to make a chocolate cake. “No one’s going to talk down the Alpha in front of his son, even if the relationship was strained. I never had a great relationship with my sisters but if I had heard anyone talking smack about them, I would have been up in some faces.”

  That got a smile and a bemused grunt out of Justin. “Same, here,” he said. He looked around, sniffing the air. “Damn, the smell of that coffee is driving me crazy…”

  Savannah chuckled. “The first thing I do every day when I come down here is to start brewing coffee.” She motioned. “It’s out front, behind the counter. Help yourself. Decaf’s on the left.”

  He started to go only to stop and favor her with a strange look. “How did you know I’d want decaf?” he asked. “Are you one of those witches who can read minds?”

  “No,” she said. “But I do know that dogs can’t have caffeine in any form, like coffee or chocolate. And since dogs are just wolf-descendants…” She swiped a finger along the rim of the bowl and came up with some of the cake batter. “You won’t be able to have any of this, either.” She licked her finger clean.

  “I’m okay with that,” he said. He headed out of the kitchen. “You want some?” he called out.

  “Sure,” she replied. “Cream and one sugar, please.”

  “You got it.” He returned a few minutes later carrying two heavy stoneware mugs; he set one down on the counter near her work station. “Hope I got it right.”

  Savannah paused to take a sip. She nodded and gave a thumb’s up with her free hand. “Mm. Perfect.” She glanced up at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He leaned against the counter again, his own cup cradled in his fist. “So. I told you a little about me. What about you?”

  She shook her head in amusement as she sprayed and floured two cake pans. “What do you want to know?” she asked.

  “Well, for starters…where did you get those green eyes?”

  “I was born with them,” Savannah responded smoothly.

  Justin threw back his head and let out a mock laugh. “Ha! Funny.” He looked her over again. “Seriously, though…”

  “Yeah, I know,” Savannah said. “People are always confused when they see me because I look black, but then they see the green eyes and it throws them.” She slid the cake pans onto another rack inside the large oven. “But to answer your question: my mother was white, second generation Italian-American. All the women in her family have green eyes, probably because they came from a region not far from the border of Slovenia. So I got that from her.” She used one hand to make a graceful, sweeping motion around her face. “This gorgeous cocoa brown skin, the naturally curly hair, and these luscious full lips are all gifts from my African-American father.” She gestured to the rest of her body. “The big tits and full, child-bearing hips come from both sides.”

  The tinkling of bells from out in the dining area caught her attention. Savannah checked the clock on the wall. “And here comes the post-church lunch crowd, right on time.”

  “What should I do?” Justin asked, as she moved around him.

  “Stay out of the way,” she said, and went out to greet her customers. Within the hour, most of the tables had filled in addition to the stools at the counter, all with the Sunday regulars. Savannah called them by name, asked about their families and jobs, and engaged in discussion about today’s sermon while filling orders. Justin did his best to give her a wide berth. At one point, she called on him for assistance. “I need your help getting these plates out,” she said. “The Wrights have family visiting from Gary, Indiana. I’ll serve; I just need you to carry.” She smiled. “I know you’re a wolf, but right now I need you to be a mule.”

  “Did you just call me an ass?”

  “No, a donkey is an ass,” she explained, handing him a tray loaded with plates. “A mule is the offspring of a donkey and a horse.” She shook her head. “Don’t they teach that kind of stuff in Werewolf School?”

  “My people still have an arcane caste system and practice barbaric methods of justice,” he replied sardonically. “But I guess they draw the line when it comes to telling a donkey from a mule.”

  “I don’t know if I should find that funny or pathetic,” Savannah said. Picking up a few extra plates of food, she jerked her head. “Follow me.” Justin trailed her out to the dining area and stood by as she began to distribute the meals.

  “Hey, Savannah!” one of her guests called out. “You’ve finally got someone to help you out!”

  “Yeah, I’m giving him a test drive,” she said, glancing up at Justin. Outside on the street, a car with a shoddy muffler suddenly roared past the restaurant and Justin gave a violent start, almost dropping the last plate on his tray. Thankfully, only Savannah noticed, and did not call attention to it. “Let me know if you need anything else,” she told her guests. Taking Justin’s elbow, she steered him back toward the kitchen. “I told you, you’re under my protection. Nobody is going to find you, here. Relax.”

  “I’m trying.” He sighed. “Maybe I should just…stay back here, out of sight. Just to be on the safe side.”

  Savannah had enough confidence in her abilities that she didn’t take offense over Justin’s lack of faith. It was probably his animal instinct making him nervous. She could see where being hunted would put him on edge. Be patient, she told herself. “Okay, you stay here. I’ve got to get back out there and check on everyone.”

  She made another circuit of the dining room, refilling coffee cups and water glasses. She smiled when she came upon a long-time customer and her first grade teacher, now retired. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Russell,” Savannah said with a warm smile. “What can I get for you, today? I’ve got some chicken and dumplings made up, if you’re interested.”

  “Actually, I think I’ll just have something sweet,” the elderly woman said.

  “Well, I’ve got an apple pie that came out of the oven just thirty minutes ago. It should still be warm. How about a slice of that?”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  “You want that a la mode?”

  “French vanilla, if you have it.”

  “I believe I do.” Savannah grinned. “I’ll get that right out to you.”

  “Thank you, honey.”

  Returning to the kitchen, Savannah stopped short when she found Justin sitting on the counter. In one hand, he held the half-eaten apple pie, scooping up gooey chunks of apple and golden crust with his fingers and stuffing it into his face. As she stood there, staring at him in disbelief, Justin looked up. “What?” he demanded around a mouthful. He chewed and swallowed. “I told you I was hungry.”

  Savannah sighed in exasperation. “If you had just waited another five minutes, I would have made so
mething for you to eat.” Storming over, she snatched the plate away. While he had left a large portion untouched, she knew health codes would not allow her to serve the rest. “And get your nasty wolf ass off my counter,” she snapped at him. “I still have to prepare food, there.” She shook her head in dismay as she made her way to the cooler. “Good thing I made a coconut cream pie last night before I closed up...you’re lucky Mrs. Russell likes that flavor, too.” She cut out a slice and placed it on a chilled plate. “I don’t like having to disappoint my longtime customers.”

  Justin had the decency to look chastised. “Sorry,” he muttered, licking his fingers clean as he hopped down off the counter.

  “It’s okay.” Savannah gave him a warning look and pointed at him. “But keep your paws off the cake,” she said, before taking the pie out to Mrs. Russell.

  “I told you, I can’t have chocolate!” Justin called after her.

  “Just don’t touch anything!” Spirits, Savannah thought, give me strength.

  Chapter Ten

  The flow of customers fluctuated through the day, thinning out shortly after lunch before picking back up again close to the supper hour. Savannah had honored her word and during the lull she had ordered Justin to sit down out in the dining room before presenting him with a plate loaded with fried eggs, biscuits and gravy, and a thick-cut steak. While the pie had been a good start, Justin had attacked that meal like he hadn’t eaten in days. He devoured every bite, and sucked down a large glass of milk she had also provided.

  As he ate, Justin had watched Savannah work. How does she do all of this by herself? he wondered. Did she give everyone else the day off because it’s Sunday?

  He decided to help by bussing his own dishes. He found Savannah back in the kitchen, firing up another order. “Hey,” he said, putting his plate in the sink. “Thanks for the food. Everything was delicious but that steak? It was perfect.”

  She glanced up at him and smiled. “Glad you liked it,” she said, returning her attention to the grill. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long. I know you said you were hungry and I just got so caught up that I forgot.”

  “No, it’s okay,” he assured her. “Paying customers should come first.” He stood there for a moment, suddenly feeling like he needed to do something. He spied a plastic tub full of dirty dishes and decided to load them into the washer.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Savannah told him.

  “I’m not doing anything else right now,” he said, rolling up the sleeves on his borrowed shirt. He snagged a spare apron from a hook near the door, looped it over his head and secured the ties behind his back. “I also don’t mind getting my ‘paws’ wet.” He threw a smile over to her and she returned it with a brief flash of those green eyes.

  Justin still could not believe how readily she had taken him in. He remembered how he had felt that unseen hand pulling him back to her, the same force that had awakened him in the pigeon coop and drove him to return to her rooftop. He had always had great respect for Lady Dauphine, but she had never cast any spells on him. And it wasn’t like Savannah meant to bind him to her. Justin peered over at her as he finished filling the washer and closed it. In the past, he had made friends with Humans but had always been forced to keep his true nature secret because he had been convinced it had been for his own preservation and protection. As he got older and began to feel the need to be open about his race, he still found himself unable to open up to any of his Human friends. Did that make him a hypocrite? Or did he believe, deep down, that his father had been right about the need to maintain racial anonymity?

  Savannah was the first Human he had ever confessed to about being a werewolf. Well, she already suspected, he reminded himself. You just confirmed. She already knew his people existed so she didn’t freak out, but Justin still felt like he had broken new ground by finally being able to identify himself. Having someone who accepted him so readily helped boost his confidence. She also wasn’t afraid of me when I told her I’m wanted for murder. Either she’s fearless or she’s ignorant – but so far, she seems pretty smart.

  The more time he spent in her proximity, the more Justin became aware of an odd sensation, like the pleasure one derives from a reassuring caress. It manifested as a warmth inside his chest. I don’t even know her, and yet I feel so comfortable around her…like an old friend.

  He could see she had a similar effect on her customers. All throughout the afternoon, Justin had watched Savannah welcome everyone with the kind of affection you’d see in television commercials for sappy greeting cards. It’s not a put-on, either, he noted. She’s sassy and blunt, but she’s also genuinely caring. He saw how people responded to her, too. Savannah made them smile and laugh; she clasped their hands and touched their shoulders. At one point, she had picked up someone’s toddler and hitched him onto her hip while taking everyone’s orders. Before putting the kid back down, she had received a tight hug around the neck. She’s a good person and they all love her.

  A couple of customers lingered after the rest of the supper crowd cleared out, enjoying an after-meal coffee and conversation at a corner table. Justin continued to busy himself with cleaning the dining area while Savannah tackled the kitchen. He heard the door open and glanced up to see two statuesque black women came in, their strikingly beautiful faces void of smiles. Justin decided to follow Savannah’s example and treated them to a cheerful greeting. “Good evening, ladies.”

  They stopped and looked at him as though he had two heads. “Who are you?” one of them demanded.

  “I’m Justin.”

  “’Justin?’” the other woman echoed, incredulous. She and her companion pursed their lips and traded arched eyebrows. “And here I thought she couldn’t afford to hire anyone.” She gestured to his apron. “How long have you been working here?”

  He glanced down at himself. “Oh, I’m not getting paid to work,” he said with a short laugh. “I’m just a friend, helping Savannah out.”

  “Mm-hm. A ‘friend?’ So where is Savannah?

  “She’s in the back,” he replied. His grin faltered as his instinct picked up on the strong undercurrent of hostility emanating from both women. What’s going on, here? “Hang on, I’ll go get her for you.” He moved away from them, quickly retreating into the kitchen. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure they hadn’t followed him, he approached Savannah and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Psst! Hey – there’s a couple of women here asking about you, and they don’t seem to be in the best of moods.”

  Frowning, Savannah leaned over and peered past him into the dining room. Her plump lips pressed together in a firm line. “They rarely are,” she muttered. Sighing, she pushed her spatula into his hand. “Watch that burger for me. Give it five minutes, flip it, then five minutes more before taking it off the heat.” She wiped her hands. “I’ve got to go see what they want.”

  “Who are they?” Justin called after her.

  Savannah glanced back at him. “My sisters.”

  “Oh.” Judging by her tone of voice, Justin winced. “Yikes.” He turned his attention to the grill. As he watched the burger sizzle, he trained his keen hearing to pick up on exchange between Savannah and her two sisters.

  “Tynice! Ceara! Didn’t expect to see you back this soon. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

  “We wanted to deliver this in person. It’s a letter from our lawyer. He owed me a favor so I had him draw it up this morning.”

  Justin shot a look toward the restaurant and saw one of the women hand Savannah an envelope. As he watched, she opened it, and after a quick read, her hand covered her mouth.

  “Are you serious?” Savannah looked up at them. “You’re giving me two weeks to sign over my share of the property, or you’re going to take me to court?”

  “We warned you that we were going to have to get serious, Savannah. Ceara and I want to be rid of this place, and you don’t exactly have the money to buy us out.”

  “I see you finally got
someone to help around here,” the other sister remarked. “Is he one of your gay friends?”

  At this, Justin scowled. Gay?

  “What makes you think he’s gay?” Savannah asked.

  The other women laughed. “Well, not many good-looking straight men hang out with lonely, freakish fat girls…”

  Justin could tell by the way Savannah looked down that she had been cut deep by their words. Anger surged inside him. Scooping the burger off the grill, he dropped it and the spatula on the counter before marching out to the dining room. He pasted on a smile and switched on the charm as approached the three women. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he said. He slipped his arms around Savannah from behind and nuzzled her ear. “The meat’s ready, baby, but I can’t seem to locate the buns. You know where they might be?”

  He could smell the subtle change in Savannah’s scent with the spike of adrenaline, just as he could feel and hear her pulse skitter. To her credit, she managed to cover her surprise with a light laugh and played along.

  “They’re up in the walk-in, honey.” Savannah turned her head slightly and peered up at him. “Second shelf on the right.”

  “Awesome. Thanks, babe.” For good measure, Justin kissed her cheek before releasing her and sauntering back to the kitchen. He caught the look of shock on the other women’s faces and he smirked. Rotten bitches, he thought. He wanted to tell them to get the fuck out, but he didn’t want to make more trouble for Savannah. Sounds like she’s got enough of that, from them.

  After her sisters left, Savannah returned to the kitchen. She looked flustered. She still had the letter in her hand; she read it again and shook her head. “I’m going to lose everything,” she mumbled. She folded the paper up and tossed it onto the counter. Glancing up at Justin, she managed a small smile. “I take it you heard everything they said.”

 

‹ Prev