Layla nodded. “It’s literally just begun,” she told him, “but yeah. I like it here.”
She wanted to ask about him running out of the store. The memory of their first meeting had slowly surfaced in Layla’s mind, and she’d recalled the silver-haired shifter who had stared him down. Ben had disappeared without even making an excuse. Layla opened her mouth to voice a question, but there was a honking sound from behind the car that made her jump. Ben craned his head, checking the mirror, and Layla looked out to see a string of tourists with RVs lining up behind him.
“Ah, I’m supposed to be leading this convoy up to the trailer park,” he explained. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Layla?”
There was something hopeful in his tone, and Layla gave him her best smile. The RVs honked again in unison, and Ben revved his engine. In moments, the convoy had passed, and Layla and Brent were alone again on the pathway. Layla watched the vehicles disappearing up a hillside road.
“Hey, don’t you go crushing,” Brent warned in a wicked tone. “I got you a super-hot date tonight.”
“A girl can’t have a back-up?” Layla asked.
The friends resumed their run, and Ben was all that Layla could talk about for the rest of the circuit.
Brent was utterly magical when it came to hair and clothes. Even Layla’s dark curly hair – another gift from her father’s side – had been tamed into a sleek curtain that fell over her shoulders. She loved to get glammed up, and there was hardly ever an excuse to do it at home. Layla spent so much time in her department store uniform that she sometimes forgot how good a pretty dress made her feel. She stared at herself in the mirror, a ruby red number clinging to her figure.
“Dayum,” Brent commented, and that was high praise.
“You think it’s good?” Layla checked. “I feel good. I feel like I can flirt with the pros tonight.”
“Give him both barrels, and he’ll be begging you to marry him by the end of the week,” Brent replied. “You’re going to the Lakeside Grill, just down the path from here. The table’s under Karina’s name.”
“Got it,” Layla said, grabbing her purse.
Brent tried a few more words of encouragement, but Layla shushed him and set off for her evening of romance. There was still a warm summer glow in the air as the sunset made its final peek over the ridge of the mountains. The air was so silent that Layla could hear her heels clicking against the wooden boards of the pathway that led visitors down to the grill. It was a pretty busy place, decorated with paper lanterns and candles, but when Layla gave Karina’s name to the maître-d’, he led her to a secluded sub-section down by the waterside itself.
Here, there was only one table, with only one man sitting at it.
“Well, hello beautiful,” he crooned.
“You?” Layla asked in amazement.
She’d stopped a few feet short of reaching the table. Sitting there, with a wide flashing grin, was the second stranger from the store. His silver hair reflected the candlelight, and his bright golden eyes travelled all over Layla’s form. She shivered at that. He wasn’t bad looking, but there was something about him that she just couldn’t place. He reclined in his seat, letting out a little laugh at Layla’s hesitance.
“You’re not who I was expecting,” he said. “I’m Si, by the way.”
“How could you know what to expect?” Layla challenged. She still hadn’t taken her seat. “We’re on a blind date, after all.”
Si’s dark brow rose.
“Are we?” he asked. “That’s interesting.”
Layla’s confusion grew, and her stomach made an uneasy motion.
“This is Karina Vasquez’s table,” she stated.
Si leaned forward, one fist clenched as he cracked his knuckles.
“This is Ben Best’s table,” he revealed, “and I’m keen to see him.”
Layla’s heart gave a jump at the ranger’s name. He was her date? If so, then he was late, and she was alone with a guy that clearly had prior beef to settle. Si got up from the table and Layla took one weary step backwards.
“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked all too sweetly. “Do predators put you on edge?”
His golden eyes were brighter, and he was stepping around the table. The maître-d’ had vanished long ago, and suddenly the secluded table by the lake wasn’t so romantic a notion. Layla’s mind flashed back to the streets of LA. She was a woman who knew more than a little about danger. She wondered how quickly she could kick off her heels if she had to run.
“Silas Reed, as I live and breathe,” said a gentle voice nearby.
When Layla looked behind her, she was amazed to see a tiny old woman coming around the bend. She was hunched over a little and she wore spectacles that held a thoughtful amber gaze behind them. Flanking her on all sides were five huge guys in park ranger uniforms. And there, at the very center of the group, was Ben. When he met Layla’s eyes, there was something new in his gaze. It smoldered, deep and dark, swirling within the gold.
“Come on now, Si,” said one of the rangers, one with shaggy blonde hair. “There’s six of us and one of you. You don’t need those odds explained to you, right?”
“You’re a bad gambler, Kurt,” Si replied. “You just remember that.”
His voice had become hoarse and deep. There was something of a growl hanging in his words, and Layla began to realize that she was the only true human at the scene. From her bedroom window at home, she had sometimes seen gangs – shifter and human alike – squaring off on the streets. She had always looked away, not wanting to witness the violence that followed. Her urge to run was back, and it was only Ben that made her stay. He was watching her intently, as if her every move was vital to him.
“How did you find us, Si?” the guy called Kurt asked, his teeth gritted.
“Dietrich’s all over the papers with that new skank of his,” Si replied.
“Take that back!” barked a tall, dark-haired guy. Layla had to presume that he was Dietrich, and she watched as Ben put one hand on his shoulder. His gaze came back to Layla, golden eyes meeting brown.
“Layla, come here,” Ben said. He offered her his other hand. “I’d like you to meet my family. This is Clan Best. And we’re the Bests for good reason.”
Si gave a heartless laugh, and shook his head.
“You think you’re so big and strong,” the wicked shifter mused. “Just ‘cause you’ve got numbers on your side. I’ve got numbers too, Ben. Or have you forgotten?”
As Layla moved towards Ben and his family, Si gave a sudden snarl. Faster than any of them could witness it, the silver-haired shifter turned and dived off the shore. He disappeared into the blackness of the lake, and Layla gazed out into the shadows with worry. She felt a warm hand slip into her own, and she gripped it tightly. When she looked back to Ben, he was wearing that apologetic look again, but now it was far more serious than before.
“I hate to say it, but I think this date’s just put you in danger,” he confessed. “I need to offer you my protection, just until we get that jumped up little werecat off the park.”
Layla’s head was filled with questions and her heart was thumping hard from the tension of what had just happened. Yet Ben’s hand was steady and strong, and when she held onto him, the idea of seeing more of him was far from alarming.
That evening, Layla learned the names of Ben’s clan. His grandmother was Anina, and her sole purpose that night was in trying to get Ben and Layla to resume their date at the restaurant. Dietrich was the voice of reason who finally made her stop pressing, and he turned out to be Ben’s older brother. The other three men were Ben’s cousins, each as broad and strong as he was, and they were named Kurt, Hart and Reinicke. Reinicke had a fury about him that Layla didn’t much like, but it was all directed at Si Reed, and the prospect of him returning with his so-called ‘numbers’.
“I thought I’d escaped gang warfare for a little while, getting out of the city,” Layla revealed.
It was later
that same evening that she and Ben walked back towards the Old Spring Lodge. Ben strode close beside her, so near that she could smell his aftershave. Their forearms brushed occasionally, sending shivers up Layla’s spine.
“Shifter clans are generally peaceful these days,” Ben explained, “but we’ve had a lot of history with Clan Reed. The family’s English originally, and they were old enemies of ours back in Europe.”
“Did you call him a werecat before?” Layla asked. Ben gave a nod. “I don’t really get how that works.”
“Well, he’s not a sweet little kitten, that’s for sure,” Ben surmised. “When I say cat, I mean wild cat, like the kind who make off with small children for their dinner. When Clan Reed transform as a hunting party, they’re sleek and full of claws. It’s not pretty.”
“So what are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Layla said.
“We’re bears,” Ben told her. “Hence living out here. It’d be a little conspicuous for a grizzly to pop up in LA.”
“I’ve only ever seen wolves in LA,” Layla explained. “There’s a shifter gang called the Crenshaw Wolves. They shut down whole neighborhoods when they’re out for a run.”
Ben nodded. “I’ve heard of them.”
“Bears don’t scare me as much,” Layla added quickly. “I mean, bears only attack if they’re provoked, right?”
“That’s right,” Ben replied. “But, well…”
He let the sentence die on his lips. The pair had walked into the lavish setting of the lodge, with its portraits of famous explorers and hikers on the walls. Layla and Brent’s suite was on the first floor, and she led Ben to the door with a tingle in her tummy. Though they hadn’t actually had their dinner date, this part was familiar. This was the part where there was supposed to be a sweet little kiss at the door. But Ben was coming in. He was staying the night to watch over her, in case Si decided to track her down.
She hadn’t even considered how Brent would react to that idea.
“Girl, why didn’t you say something?” he whispered, no sooner than she was through the door. “I would have hi-tailed it outta here, you know? Given the two of you some private time.”
“It’s not like that,” she snapped back at once. She turned to Ben, who was approaching the couch in the central living space. “You want a drink or something?”
Ben grinned, though his tension was still present. “Thanks,” he replied. “Couple of sodas out of the minibar’ll do it. On Fairhaven’s bill, of course.”
Layla pushed Brent over to the minibar, and quickly told him everything about Si Reed and Clan Best as they fumbled to get the drinks. Brent gasped and threw his hand over his mouth at every dramatic revelation, then he chanced a peek at Ben, who was settled on the couch.
“So he’s your protector now,” Brent surmised. That calculating look was back on his face. “This is perfect. A strong, sexy shifter protecting you from danger.”
Layla almost grinned, but it faltered.
“It’s nice to get a chance to know him better,” she replied, “but… the clans. They’re like gangs, right?”
Something cracked in her voice. Brent put both his hands on her shoulders, and she looked into his eyes.
“This is about your dad, isn’t it?” he asked. Layla forced herself to nod. “Baby girl, that’s not going to happen here. Ben’s strong. He’s a bear for pity’s sake. You are not doomed to repeat your past.”
Layla sucked in the tears that were threatening, hoping that Brent was right.
“Now, I’m gonna leave you two to enjoy some… uh… television, I guess,” Brent said, wiggling his brow suggestively.
He took a soda, told Ben it was nice to meet him, and vanished into his bedroom. That left Layla looking at the back of Ben’s head, a hard lump forming in her throat. On the walk, they’d had Si and his fellow shifters to discuss, but now there were no questions left to ask, no gaps to fill in. There was only Layla and a guy she hardly knew, but one who did strange things to her insides every time he spoke.
“You wanna put the TV on?” Layla asked as she approached the couch. “I’m almost certain there’s some manly kind of sport on that you’re missing.”
Ben took a soda from her and shook his head. That gorgeous wave of dark hair fell into all sorts of shapes, framing his handsome, serious face.
“I prefer to actually play than watch,” he confessed.
Layla was grateful for a conversation starter, for her mind was already filling with all sorts of wild ideas. One minute he was her date, the next he was guarding her, and she hadn’t managed to separate those roles yet.
“What do you play?” she asked.
“Football, tennis, a little water polo,” Ben began, then in the same breath he added: “And please don’t make the joke about horses in the water.” Layla giggled at that. “But I love to run too. I saw that you-”
“Oh yeah,” Layla cut in. “Usually I have to do all my running at the gym. My neighborhood’s not exactly jogger friendly.”
“It must be nice to run out here in the park then,” Ben mused.
Layla nodded. “It puts me in the zone, you know? Helps me forget.”
Ben’s face lost a little of its seriousness, his brow raised.
“What have you got to forget, Layla?”
And the conversation was dead, straight out of the gate. Layla could feel the hurt stinging in her chest. It was an old hurt now, but she’d had it so long that she knew it was never going to go away completely. Like a tiny shard of glass that’d always be stuck in her heart. She felt uneasy telling Ben everything about herself, even though part of her wanted to. There were other things they could talk about, surely. Layla tried to think what she might have said if they’d ever got to their dinner date.
“It’s a shame our blind date got cancelled,” she said, a smile creeping into her lips. “You look really nice in that suit.”
Ben looked down at himself, straightening his shirt. Then, suddenly, his head snapped up, those golden eyes studying Layla.
“Wait, you were my date?” he asked. “That’s why you were down there?”
“You think I dress like this to eat dinner alone?” Layla challenged in reply.
And Ben’s eyes wandered then, over her sleek red dress, all the way down to her feet and all the way back up. Layla felt a twinge in her stomach, and she saw the way Ben’s breath began to hitch in his throat.
“Wow,” he murmured, “Now I really hate Si Reed.”
They looked at each other then. Ben’s face had almost completely relaxed, giving way to a boyish grin. Layla bit her lip, tempted beyond all reason to keep their flirting going.
“Well, Si’s not here now,” she claimed proudly. “Come on, Ben Best. Give me your best date talk.”
And that was how it begun. The conversation got easier and easier as night drew in, and the sunrise was creeping into the windows by the time Layla put her head down to sleep.
When Layla woke, late the next morning, Ben was no longer on her couch. She emerged into the shared living room of the suite, eyes drawn hopefully to the spot where a Ben-shaped imprint still lay on the cushions. The door to the minibar gave a click, and Layla’s gaze snapped toward it. Brent was popping open two mini bottles of orange juice. He put one on the breakfast bar and slid it in her direction, then he pointed at the couch and pulled a face.
“I am very disappointed by this,” he confessed. “You let the poor guy sleep there all night. All alone.”
“Down boy,” Layla answered, giving her friend a warning look. “We were talking for hours. It was, like, four-thirty or something, and I went to the bathroom. When I got back he was out cold, so I threw a blanket over him and went to bed.”
Reinicke (Bear Shifter Dating Agency Romance) (Bear Dating Agency Book 5) Page 23
