Dawson Fur Hire

by T. S. Joyce

“That’ll do.” He strode into her small bathroom like he knew his way around the apartment, and while he was in there, she rushed around and tidied up her small apartment. Mr. Harris used most of the storage off the main room, so things tended to get cluttered in her living space.

  Kate smoothed her messy bun before she spread the red blanket over the couch and pulled a pillow off her bed in the corner, then put that onto his make-shift sleeping place, too.

  Dalton didn’t miss a beat when he came out of the restroom. He took one look at the couch, then lifted the pillow to his nose. “Smells like you. Honey.”

  She smelled like honey? “I eat it on my oatmeal in the mornings.”

  Dalton didn’t respond, only kicked out of his boots and peeled off his sweater. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, and she couldn’t pull her gaze away from his muscular back if she tried. Partly, she was attracted to his smooth skin and rippling muscles as he moved, but also, she was hypnotized by the massive tattoo. It was a black ink rendering of a masculine phoenix that snaked this way and that across his back. It looked fearsome, mid-scream, talons outstretched, dots and drips of ink around it as if the bird had been painted on his back like a messy watercolor on paper. The thick, black flaming tail feathers ended just above his low slung jeans.

  Her fingers itched to touch it. To trace the harsh lines and brush her fingertips down the etched feathers. It was beautiful and terrifying and sexy all at once.

  Dalton froze, his pants mid-zip in his hands. Slowly, he turned and looked at her over his shoulder.

  “I like your tattoo,” she said on a breath. Scrunching up her face, she murmured, “Sorry. I should give you privacy.”

  She busied herself with turning off the light, and then she carefully made her way around the coffee table to her bed.

  “I got the tattoo a couple years ago,” Dalton said in the dark.

  “What does it mean?”

  “Lots of things.” He went quiet, and the sound of fabric rustling filled the air, as if he were getting more comfortable on the couch.

  With a sigh, Kate pulled the comforter up to her chin and rolled onto her side, facing him. She couldn’t see worth crap in the dark, but giving a werewolf her back just didn’t feel right.

  “I lost someone,” he murmured. “Two someones. The tattoo was a way to focus on coming out of it.”

  “Rising from the ashes like a phoenix.”

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  His admission he’d lost someone hit her hard, right in the middle. She curled around the pain. She hadn’t lost anyone to death yet. Miller had been in and out of her life like a bitterly cold wind. He didn’t count. But she’d lost people in her life to other stuff. Betrayal was a big one, and for a couple of them, it felt like they’d died instead of just exited her life.

  In an attempt at levity, she admitted, “I have a tattoo, too.”

  “Yeah?” Dalton sounded interested, and the covers rustled again.

  She squinted in the dark, and it looked like he was sitting up on the couch now.

  “It’s little.”

  “What is it?”

  “An evergreen tree.”

  “Where?”

  “On my ribcage.”

  More rustling, and now he was lying down again. “Sounds hot.”

  She laughed. “Oh yes, that’s me,” she muttered sarcastically. “I’ve always been known as the hot one.”

  “Okay, what were you known as then?”

  “The responsible one.” And the one time she hadn’t been, she’d fallen for an undeserving werewolf. Determined not to let her mind or this conversation wander there, she said, “Goodnight.”

  There was a beat of silence before Dalton murmured, “’Night.”

  As she stared at the dark lump on the couch, she was appalled at herself all over again because she’d thought she learned her lesson after Miller, but here she was with a man just as dangerous.

  And because of her broken instincts, stupidly, she felt safe.

  She would probably never get to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  A scratching sound woke Kate from the deep, dark folds of slumber. Holy moly, it was hard to force her eyes open. Had she been drugged at the bar last night? No, she hadn’t even had a drink. She’d only bought a flask of whiskey and then…Dalton!

  Kate sat up in bed. Somehow, she was on the very edge, and when she looked in horror at the other side of the bed, it was rumpled and the pillow dented, as if someone had been lying beside her.

  Dalton sat on the couch with a cup of steaming coffee he’d apparently made from her coffee maker. He had been in the middle of scribbling something onto a piece of computer paper, but now sat frozen, staring at her.

  “Good morning,” he said with a smirk.

  “Did we…” She looked pointedly at the rumpled side of the bed. “Did we…you know?”

  “Sleep together?”

  With a gulp, she nodded.

  “Your hair looks awesome in the mornings. Like a lion’s mane. Fierce and messy and—”

  “Did we sleep together?”

  “You don’t remember asking me to sleep beside you?”

  “No,” she whispered, shaking her head in denial.

  “You definitely did. I told you ‘no,’ but you tried to shove yourself onto this tiny-ass couch with me. We didn’t fit.”

  “You cuss a lot.”

  “You don’t cuss enough,” he countered, one dark eyebrow jacked up in a challenge.

  “I don’t remember any of that. But…admittedly, I also don’t remember sleeping that soundly in…well…a couple years. What are you writing?”

  “Nothing,” he said with a frown at the paper he was crumpling up in his hands.

  “Let me see it.”

  “It was just a goodbye note. Doesn’t matter. Now I can tell you goodbye myself. So, goodbye.” He stood, abandoning his coffee.

  He couldn’t leave! Not after last night. Not like this. She didn’t know his number, or where he lived. “I have to get another night’s sleep like that!” she blurted out, tripping over the crumpled comforter that had ensnared her legs like an anaconda. With a yelp, she went down hard, nostrils first. But just before she hit the ground, Dalton was there, yanking her up from a painful fate.

  “Dammit, Kate, wait until your legs are working, woman.”

  “You blurred.” Shoot, she hadn’t meant to say that. “You’re fast. Really fast. Were you in track in high school?” Good cover, now laugh at your joke. She let off an insane giggle as he stared down at her like she’d lost her mind. This was going awesome. “Can you spend the night tonight?” She groaned and clamped her hands over her mouth.

  Dalton released his grip on her shoulders and patted her wild hair carefully, his face stoic. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you snore like a freight train.”

  An offended sound worked its way up her throat. “I do not.”

  “No, you don’t,” he admitted through a grin.

  “It’s just…” She took a steadying breath and blinked her eyes slowly, making them nice and round like her sister did when she wanted to get her way. Dalton didn’t look impressed so she stopped with the owl eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Double shoot, she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra. Clearing her throat primly, she muttered, “I don’t sleep well.”

  “I have my own cabin to sleep at while I’m in town, Kate, and trust me when I say, it’s safer for both of us if we say goodbye here and forget about each other.”

  There was warning in his voice, so she dared a glance up at his face, then back down his taut chest and flexing abs. Her thoughts muddied.

  “Kate.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “To have a conversation, you have to actually respond.”

  She crossed her arms tighter over her free-jiggling boobs. “Well then put on a darned shirt.”

  Dalton snorted and shook his head as he
turned for his sweater that was draped over the back of the old ladder-back chair by the front door. “I don’t know why me not having a shirt on bothers you now. You were petting me like a housecat all damned night.”

  “Language!”

  “You language! The word darned offends me.” His eyes sparked with amusement when he glanced back at her angry face, the oaf.

  “I was not petting you. Right?” She stared at the rumpled comforter on the bed, trying to remember, but all she could recall was blissful sleep. She should sniff his pillow. It probably smelled like him. Yummy.

  “You definitely were petting me, and it was hard to sleep.”

  “Men like petting.”

  “Men don’t like lying there trying to be good and respectful with a raging boner, lady.”

  She gasped. “Dalton!”

  “Look,” he muttered, pulling his sweater down to cover his abs. “I’m not good for you or anyone else. A man like me doesn’t pair up well.”

  “I’m not asking you to pair up with me, just sleep with me! No, that’s not what I mean. Just sleep with me. You know. Beside me? As two separate beings, just sleeping. Together. In the same general vicinity. On the same bed. Or in the same apartment, which ever works best for you.”

  He had hooked his hands on his hips and stared at her as she fumbled along. “I’m sorry about your sleeping problems but—”

  “I’ll pay you! I’ll hire you. You’re like this security blanket, and I know it sounds stupid but I’m desperate for sleep. I can’t even remember the last time I hit REM, and I work a stressful job at the medical center and I’ve been walking around in a haze for the last two years, hoping for a few hours of chopped-up sleep a night. I feel safe with you.”

  Dalton looked shocked for the span of two breaths before he scanned her tiny apartment pointedly. “Lady, your instincts are broken. And even if they weren’t, I have a job. I don’t need your money and, anyway, I’m not going to be in Galena for long.”

  Her acute disappointment was so heavy she dropped her arms and slumped her shoulders. Trying not to pout too obviously, she sat on the edge of the mattress and sighed. “When do you leave?”

  “When I want. My boss gives me this time of year off.”

  “Why?” she asked, frowning up at him.

  Dalton shifted his weight and stared off into the kitchen as seconds of silence ticked by. “Because of my losses.”

  She straightened her spine. “Is it the anniversary?”

  He still wouldn’t look at her, but he dipped his chin once.

  Oh, she felt like dirt. Less than dirt. She felt like the bacteria on the dirt that earthworms ate and then pooped out. Here she was begging for him to alleviate her insomnia problems, and he was clearly dealing with something incredibly painful of his own. “I’m sorry.”

  Dalton arched his dark, sexy gaze to her. “You’re a nurse, right?”

  “Yes.” Her voice cracked on the word, so she cleared her throat and said it stronger. “Yes, I am.”

  “Then you can afford a place bigger than this, right?”

  She crossed her arms again and tried to glare, but couldn’t hold his gaze. His eyes were lightening by the second and were now the color of milk chocolate instead of dark. “I could, but Mr. Harris is my landlord, and he’s really nice. My rent money has him so close to paying off his mortgage, and besides, I’m saving up.”

  “To float the entire town with your good deeds?”

  “No.” Rude. “For a cabin of my own. I want land and a place outside of town.”

  Dalton looked shocked. “You’re going to be a homesteader?”

  “What? No! I just want land for…stuff.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “Geez, you’re nosy.”

  “Not nosey. Just curious.”

  “I like dogs.”

  Dalton’s face hardened in an instant. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she rushed out, “I want to breed sled dogs for the Iditarod someday. I love nursing, but Galena is population five hundred, and most days at the medical center are really slow. I get several days off in a row each week, and I want to manage and sell sled dogs as a hobby, then eventually full time. It’s what my parents did before they moved to Anchorage and retired. My sister and her husband do the same over near Kaltag, right off the Yukon. My family has a reputation for good dogs.”

  Dalton reared back as recognition flickered across his face. “Hawke Huskies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow.” He actually looked impressed. “And you turned out to be a nurse? You’re a complicated woman, Kate.”

  “Not complicated, just the responsible one, remember? Getting a successful dog breeding business off the ground isn’t easy, family name or no.”

  “I’d argue nursing isn’t easy either.”

  She gave a surprised laugh. “You’d be right.”

  When she dropped her gaze from his striking face, she got all caught up on his erection, pressing against the front of his jeans. Dalton followed her look down and frowned. “I should go.” He turned and pulled his jacket off the arm of the couch, then pulled it on and zipped it up. He was really going to leave.

  She swallowed down the urge to throw a ridiculous amount of money at him if he would only sleep here a few hours a night. Clearly, he had enough going on with his personal life without her complicating his sleeping arrangements. Still, she didn’t want him to go. She wanted to learn more about him. She even wanted to know more about why he was different from Miller and his brothers. Why Dalton was nice and protective where the McCalls had been harsh and out of control. She wanted to know where he lived, and why he was leaving so soon, where he worked, and how he’d learned to fight like he’d done with Darren. She wanted to know why he’d given in and slept beside her last night. And most importantly, she wanted to know why she felt so safe around him.

  All these questions built up in her throat until she couldn’t do more than make a little questioning whimper as he opened the front door, allowing the frigid, late season breeze to swirl around her little apartment.

  “What about your coffee?” she asked in desperation as he topped the stairs above her.

  “You can have it.” He turned and cast her a thoughtful look. She would give her femur bone to know what he was thinking right now with his eyes blazing like they were. “Don’t engage with Darren anymore.”

  “Are you worried?” Then perhaps you should spend nights with me!

  “You’re not mine to worry over, Kate,” he said so quietly she almost didn’t hear him over the early morning wind.

  Without another word, he turned and walked away, his boots crunching in the snowy yard until she couldn’t see or hear him anymore.

  The ease with which he left her was telling enough. She might have all these questions about him, but he had no interest in her.

  You’re not mine to worry over. For some reason those words hurt more than was reasonable.

  He was a complete stranger, and she wasn’t his problem.

  Chapter Four

  Dalton watched Kate lock her basement door and make her way up the stairs and through the front yard to her four-wheeler, coffee thermos in her hand. She wore a heavy jacket and pink ear-muffs to match her petal-pink scarf. White rimmed sunglasses hid her eyes. She looked so fucking cute with her tight little scrubs hugging her sexy curves as she ripped the engine of her ATV.

  Kate passed right by the street he was parked on, but she didn’t look up from the icy road in front of her.

  Go get her.

  Dalton growled a warning to his wolf to shut up. He scrubbed his hand down his face and resisted the urge to follow her. He would not hunt her like some McCall. Clearly Miller had already done that.

  She was that asshole’s perfect target—kind, overly-caring, and submissive with a generous heart. Miller had used up women like her when he was alive. Dalton had seen it personally on the few occasions he’d visited a town at the same time as Miller.
Dalton had hated him and Cole McCall both.

  Miller complicated things, even from the grave. He was Link’s late brother, and here Dalton was, unable to pull his gaze away from one of Miller’s ex-girlfriends…or whatever she’d been to him.

  A long snarl rattled his throat just thinking about Miller fucking her in that stupid video.

  Gritting his teeth, he shook his head at what he was about to do. A wise werewolf didn’t catch the attention of a ruthless enforcer like Clayton, much less ask favors. Right now, though, he was helpless to leave her like this. He had to do something to make her life a little better. He’d be a shit mate for her, but he could do this.

  Dalton hovered his finger over the damning number for a moment before he jammed it down and waited for Clayton to pick up.

  “Dalton,” the enforcer greeted. What the hell? He’d never talked to him on the phone, so how had Clayton even recognized this number?

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Of course you do,” Clayton said dryly.

  “It’s not for me. It’s for a woman Miller McCall hurt.”

  Silence grew thick as fog over the line. “Did he kill her?”

  “No, but he posted a video that is shaming her. Tagged her name to it and everything. Do you have any connections for someone who could take that offline?”

  “My focus is more on enforcement and the McCall cure.”

  Dalton gritted his teeth and adjusted his position on the cold seat of his snow machine. “So is that a no?”

  “I’m not some fairy godfather, Dalton. I have no interest in granting wishes for nothing.”

  Dalton spat in the snow and barely resisted a dark laugh. “I’ll owe you one.”

  Clayton sighed into the phone. “Who is she to you?”

  The one.

  Dalton swallowed his wolf’s words down. He’d said that before, and he’d been wrong. “She’s a nice lady who doesn’t deserve what Miller did to her.”

  “Hmmm,” Clayton said noncommittally. “What’s her name?”

  “Katherine Hawke. Miller did something to her. Broke something. She can’t sleep after him.” Shit. He shook his head at the memory of Kate screaming out in her sleep last night. Of how he’d held her tight until she’d settled against his chest. She hadn’t asked for him to sleep beside her. That had been his first lie to her. Dalton hadn’t been able to help himself when her nightmare had started. And already, his wolf would die just to ease her pain if he could.