She pushed the door open and lifted her lips into the best fake smile this side of anywhere. With her head held high, she gave the hostess Victor's name and followed her through a dining room that was romantically lit with candles at every table. The furniture was all glossy dark wood with red velvet tapestries and seat cushions.
Similar to The Den, there were two levels in the dining room, a main area where the tables were out in the open and then a raised area where the tables looked to offer their patrons more privacy. The hostess led her to the main area to a table set directly against the wall.
Victor was already sitting at the table but stood when he saw them approach. Frannie breathed a sigh of relief. He looked one-hundred-percent...normal. With his dark brown hair and blue eyes, he resembled his profile picture enough for her to recognize him, but not so much that she thought it was his most recent picture. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt and dark jeans. His face was a little rounder in real life, almost boyish. That was reassuring in a way. He still cared enough to fib, just a little.
"Francesca, I am so happy you could make it," Victor said as she sat down. His hair was a little long and obviously styled with some sort of product. His blue eyes were as beautiful as they'd been in his picture, like tropical pools.
"Hello, Victor," Frannie said a little stilted. It was a first date after all, one step up from a blind date; she was allowed to be a little bit awkward.
Victor's smile was warm. His eyes met hers and then went downward. His stare lingered at her cleavage a little longer than she would have liked but she figured that was being a little hypocritical—if she hadn't wanted him to notice her breasts she wouldn't have worn the spaghetti-strap tank top that was low and tight.
She sat down nervously at his gesture, tugging at her skirt to stay down. She grabbed a dark red cloth napkin folded into a triangle and shook it out, draping it over her lap, thus blocking how far up her short skirt moved when she sat.
Victor leaned forward, his elbows propped up on the table. "I'm sorry to start this out on such a taboo subject, but I have to ask, how old are you?"
Inwardly, Frannie cringed, outwardly, she tried to give him a coy look. "Old enough?"
"Can I take your word on that? I'm not going to get arrested later, am I?"
Frannie frowned for a number of reasons. One, she was touchy about her age because when people found out how old she actually was, they assumed that because she wasn't married with children she must spend her nights partying. Two, he had basically implied that they were going to have sex with that arrested crack. "Well, I'm old enough to drink, so no I don't think you'll be arrested." There, that should hopefully cool his heels without seeming too rude. She looked down at her place setting, moving the spoon a centimeter to the right before shifting it back.
Victor cleared his throat. "I took the liberty of ordering for us. I wasn't positive what you would enjoy and I can be a little spontaneous in my own tastes so I got us a vertical flight from a local winery that is exclusive to this location."
Frannie nodded and thanked her Spanx that she had written a story a while back where one of the lead characters was a sommelier. Thanks to that she understood most of what Victor had said so far. "Sounds great."
He smiled back but didn't say anything.
Frannie sat against her chair as an odd sensation overcame her. Her skin prickled as if she was sitting on a bed of nails. She was tingly all over though she assumed it was due to the awkwardness that came with a first date. Wrapping her fingers around her water glass, she concentrated on the cool feeling. The condensation moistened her palm. Victor looked over for the waitress and didn't seem to be experiencing the same thing.
"So, you own a bookstore?" she said finally.
"Yes, a smaller store located a few blocks from here. I specialize in finding and selling local authors."
"Really? I'm a local author. Well, I write under a penname so I don't know if that counts."
The look he gave her was nearly condescending. "You write? For how long?"
Oh yes. The age thing. Just because she was closer to twenty than thirty didn't mean she hadn't been writing since she could hold a pencil. Nor did it mean she hadn't been writing professionally since she dropped out of college her first year. "A few years."
"Romance?" he guessed.
Frannie gritted her teeth. "Yes, romance."
It was as if he had her all figured out, the way he nodded and closed his eyes knowingly. "Ahh. Do you feel comfortable telling me your penname?"
Frannie took another sip of water. That was different, usually when people found out she wrote, they all but demanded her penname. She wasn't embarrassed or anything. When she first started publishing she heard that writers with gender ambiguous pennames sold better. "I don't mind, it's not a huge secret. Pat Bennitz? I write mostly—"
"Are you serious? You're Pat Bennitz? I sell hard copies of your book in my store!" Victor's eyes looked brighter and he leaned forward. "But, Pat Bennitz has been in the game for a while."
"Well, I went to college right after high school but, um, dropped out that first year. Been writing since then."
"Wow." Victor shook his head in amazement. "Small world. No one is going to believe I met Pat Bennitz. They really won't believe how adorable you are."
The waitress arrived then with their flights, saving Frannie from stumbling through a "thank you" that would have sounded more like water draining down a sink. Victor thanked her and immediately dove into the first wine in the row, explaining to Frannie why he'd chosen it and why he thought it might taste good. He was kind enough to guide her through the steps of wine tasting. Unlike in her research though, they swallowed each sip and by the fourth one in she was feeling the effects for sure. He hadn't ordered any food to go with it and she'd been too nervous to eat earlier.
He kept up an easy conversation as they sampled each type and then at the end, asked her which was her favorite, ordering her a glass of it and him a glass of his own favorite of the flight.
With the help of the wine, Frannie was able to relax. She told Victor the story of when she was researching the profession of exotic dancing and had contacted a club owner with the hopes of interviewing him. The club owner had mistakenly assumed she was asking for an audition to dance, which had resulted in a very odd interview and an equally boring dance audition.
Victor laughed right when he was supposed to, his head falling back so that his Adam's apple bobbed. Frannie sat back in her chair, finally relaxed enough to sit comfortably and to stop tugging on her skirt.
"You know," Victor said, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, "I should have you come down and do a signing. You could have a little story session or kaffeeklatsch beforehand."
"Really?" She'd done a few book signings and they had always resulted in pretty great sales. Usually people would buy her book because she was sitting in front of them but then most of those readers would search for the rest of her works and buy those, too. Frannie began to see the number of delivery dinners she could buy for the pack with money like that. "That would be really..."
Just then, Frannie's skin prickled again like it had near the beginning of their date. She couldn't blame it on nerves this time she was relaxed and well-oiled with more than enough wine.
Still, there was a prickly feeling she couldn't ignore and looked up, past Victor, to a table of two guys sitting on the upper level, they had moved their chairs so that they sat, unobstructed, next to each other facing her.
The blood drained from her face.
What the hell is Brock doing here? Sure enough, he was there, looking large and out of place except for the sex God sitting next to him who made him seem like he belonged wherever that other man was. They held hands on the top of table comfortably, like it was something they'd been doing for years. Frannie had never seen the man next to Brock before in her life and she would have remembered. He wore a white button-up shirt and red tie with a light gray vest that highlighted his nat
urally tan skin and dark hair. He was fit enough for her to wonder if he was also a shifter.
Some sort of sexy, professional, suit-wearing shifter.
Maybe an accountant? He could crunch her numbers anyti— Wait a second! They're holding hands? Brock's gay? Why the fuck was he trying to have a date with me earlier?
"What?" Victor asked, making Frannie afraid she'd said some or all of that out loud. He looked behind himself, clearly wondering what she was looking at. "Do you know those two men staring intently at you?" he asked.
"Um, not really. Kind of. The big one is a police officer. He showed up at my house a few months ago after it was shot at. Don't worry, we weren't hurt. Random thing, you know."
"He's looking at you like he wants to put you in handcuffs—and not to arrest you, either," Victor commented with a little whine to his tone.
Brock's mouth turned up in a half-smile like he had heard Victor's whine.
He did, you idiot. Shifter, remember?
"Don't worry, I'm not into bondage," she said loud enough that Brock's sensitive ears would be able to hear her. The man next to him smirked, confirming her guess that he was also a shifter.
Great, what are you going to do with that information? Nothing. That was what.
"Let's ignore them," she said, yanking all of her attention away from the sexy pair and back to Victor. She couldn't make her skin stop tingling, though. "So, what is your favorite part about owning a bookstore? I would think it was getting all the reading time you wanted."
The frown lines that had gathered between his eyes lingered a moment longer before clearing. "Actually, I don't get to read nearly as much as I wish I did. It isn't enough to just own a shop these days, I have to get creative with events and things to always keep customers curious, bring them in and get them to return. In fact I—"
"Pardon me."
Frannie didn't need to look over to identify the person who had caused a shadow to fall over their table. She didn't need to see the face that belonged to that rumbling tone. She looked anyway and caught herself from biting her bottom lip as she immediately imagined Brock lifting her from her chair and pulling her into body-twining embrace right before they kissed.
"Yes?" she snapped.
"You left our date so early this morning I didn't have a chance to set up a second," Brock said.
Chapter Seven
Kai
Frannie's cheeks reddened further, a feat considering how flushed they already were. She clenched her jaw tightly and a fire exploded in her eyes that made Kai's cock twitch. She looked like she was going to castrate Brock if he wasn't careful. He'd clearly interrupted a first date and in a way that completely contradicted what she'd told her date about him.
Kai couldn't blame Brock though. They weren't originally here for her and hadn't known Frannie was going to be at Vine and Dine, in fact they were supposed to be celebrating his recent courtroom victory. That was about the only time Kai was able to drag Brock to places like this. It was not at all Brock's type of place, but he indulged Kai because Kai gave great head, and because he loved him.
They had just been shown their table and Brock was still rearranging his place setting to fit his bulkier frame when Kai had looked up and saw her on the lower level smiling painfully at the man across from her. Kai's first thought was that Brock was wrong, the girl he met earlier at The Den couldn't be their mate because clearly, the sexy woman on the other side of the room, with brown curls that cascaded over her shoulders and a body that begged to be explored and plundered, was meant for them.
Imagine his surprise when Brock finally looked up from his spoon and cursed.
So this was their Francesca.
Brock hadn't done her justice. He'd described what she looked like but like a police officer would, all stats and facts. Her curves, her lips, her scent—it was poetry. She was a piece of art and Kai couldn't figure out what she was doing with the man across from her.
Brock had wanted to charge over and put a stop to the date, but Kai convinced him to wait a few minutes. They eavesdropped shamelessly, both of them unwilling to say much to each other for fear they would miss a word of what she said. He would apologize for that later. He'd learned that this was indeed a first date and that Francesca was still charming despite how uncomfortable she'd been in parts. The guy, however, was a schmooze.
Francesca opened her mouth, finally finding her voice. "I'm a very busy person, officer, that is why I had to leave our daytime lunch meeting. Although, you didn't mention that you were in a relationship at the time." Francesca turned so that she faced Kai head on. She held out her hand and Kai noticed it trembled. "Hello, I'm Francesca. You are?"
Kai almost answered inappropriately by introducing himself as her mate. It wasn't inappropriate exactly, but it most likely wouldn't gain him any extra points. "Kai Mahelona, nice to meet you." He took her hand and held it gently in his hand. His inner wolf wanted him to grab onto her and pull her away from her date. He decided to rub the top of her hand softly with his thumb instead. "I've heard so much about you."
Francesca pulled her hand back, cradling it with her other as if she had burned it. She scowled at Brock and then him. Her dark eyes were like onyx when she was angry. "Weird, since I've heard nothing about you, Mr. Mahelona. Literally, the entire time we were at our daytime lunch meeting, Brock didn't mention you once. Strange, especially since he seemed so adamant that he really wanted to...to continue with our daytime lunch meeting."
The pale guy she was with cleared his throat. "Frannie, um, are you okay? Are they bothering you?"
Kai almost laughed. The line was straight out of a movie and straight out of this guy's ass. He couldn't do anything about it if they were bothering her. As it was, his presence was the most onerous. "I apologize for our intrusion. Brock and I love coming here. Well, Brock indulges me. I had a pretty amazing win in court last week and this is our celebratory night out. Not original, you'll have to forgive us for that. Brock here would be more comfortable in some dark pub with stained wallpaper and a perpetual out-of-order sign in the bathroom."
Francesca's lips turned up in the most beautiful, authentic smile. "That sounds like my type of place, actually. Have you ever heard of the 45th Pub?"
"I love that place; Christina is great," Brock said.
Kai rolled his eyes.
Francesca narrowed hers. "Yes, she is. Did you have a daytime lunch meeting with her, too? Were you able to get around to telling her that you're in a relationship?"
"There are things called open relationships," Brock grumbled.
Francesca jerked forward like she was going to stand up but then thought twice about it. "Is that what you're in?" she snapped.
"No," Brock replied layering so much in that one word that Kai was nearly impressed Francesca's date didn't just give up.
Kai wasn't sure what to make of Francesca's jealousy. He decided to see it as a good thing.
Her date must have picked up on it, too, because he cleared his throat and moved his hand possessively toward her. Heaven help him if he tried to hold her hand in front of them. "Well, congratulations on your win, Mr. Mahelona, but we are actually on our first date. Name's Victor." He didn't hold his hand out for them to shake, but he didn't grab Francesca's, either. Most likely because she had a double-handed death grip on her wine glass. She didn't look upset that they were interrupting her date, on the contrary, from the way she kept looking between Kai and Brock, she seemed pissed Brock hadn't let her in on that part of his life earlier.
"I respond to calls from the 45th Pub now and again," Brock said, ignoring Victor while he dug his grave deeper. "It's a harmless place with nice people, I don't have to tell you, though."
"No, you don't have to tell me. Christina takes care of her customers." Francesca seemed to notice how jealous she was sounding and leaned away from the two of them. The motion disturbed the napkin she had draped over her lap and it fell to the ground by her chair. She grabbed her wine glass and tossed back a
sizeable gulp.
Mr. Are They Bothering You watched her every motion from toss back to the way she licked a drop of wine off her lips. Yeah right, buddy. Whatever you are thinking isn't going to happen.
"Is that the Crooked River Chardonnay?" Kai asked Francesca.
She raised one eyebrow. "How did you know the winery?" She shook her head, glancing quickly to her date. Kai assumed her date wasn't versed in the shifter world, not the way Brock had told him Francesca was. Her already knowing about their world would make their relationship that much easier. "Actually, forget my question. Yes, it is. Victor ordered it for me, it's delicious." The last part she said to her date with a generous smile.
Kai saw how she wasn't sitting quite as straight as she had been in the beginning of the date and couldn't help but notice how she hadn't bothered retrieving the napkin that had fallen off her lap. With it gone, Kai could see a delicious amount of thigh, not as much as he wanted to see and more than he wanted the gawking man across from her to see.
"You know, I do believe the waitress just dropped off our food," Kai said, gesturing back to their table.
Victor beamed. "Oh, well, nice meeting—"
"Brock, will you grab our plates? I think there should be room." As he spoke he smoothly pulled the table out so that there was enough room on the other side for a chair. He ignored Francesca's shocked look and her date's annoyed expression and moved the chairs so that Brock and he could sit on both her right and left. Brock returned, setting Kai's dish in front of him. "I forgot I ordered the salmon," he commented as if the two of them taking over Francesca's table was the most normal thing in the world. "You know, it pairs wonderfully with your chardonnay. Here, try a bite." He scooped some of the flaky fish onto his fork and held it out to her. He waited with bated breath for her to open her mouth to him. Would he be able to handle the sight of her slightly upturned face, her plump lips parted expectantly?
Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set Page 69
