by Parker Foye
“You should listen to him,” Jamie said. “Take the money and shop with abandon. He eats out way too often.”
“Look who’s talking,” Jim said.
“I’m never home. If I had someone at home making me hot meals and tossing my stale bagels into the trash, I’d probably try harder to be there.”
“Easy for you to say, and you’re speculating. As far as I know, you’ve never brought anyone home to cook or do anything else.”
“Maybe I’m just discreet.”
“No. You’re picky.”
“I guess being discriminating is a bad thing, then,” Teddy muttered, staring pensively at his dessert bowl.
No, no, no.
Jim pressed his hand to the back of his tense neck and rubbed as he pushed his seat back from the table. He wasn’t in the habit of watching what he said or the tone he said the words in, but Teddy hadn’t thoroughly learned him yet. Jamie knew what to ignore. Teddy still expected that Jim would insult him, and he was certainly within his rights for that.
“Teddy, ignore us,” Jamie said, and her smile waned a bit. “We tease because we know each other really well.”
“That’s shit between me and Jamie,” Jim said. “I didn’t mean to imply that you wouldn’t have been my top choice, because you are. Hear me?”
Teddy didn’t look up, but he nodded after a while
Hardly a rousing sentiment, but Jim would take it and work on getting more out of him later.
He had to go. He needed to think.
He stood.
“Where are you going?” Jamie asked.
“Around the block. Legs are restless.” His inner coyote was restless, and that usually happened right before Jim did something either shamefully reckless or else violent. He didn’t want Teddy to see that. “I’ll be back to do the dishes.”
“You don’t want your brownie?” Teddy asked.
Jim slid a hand around his neck and tracked his thumb along Teddy’s chin. “I’m sure it’s great. I’ll have one later, okay?”
Teddy shrugged.
Sensitive, his man was. There was nothing Jim could do about that at the moment. The damned dog inside him was too on edge for Jim to soothe him the way he needed. As much as the beast wanted to snuggle close to his mate, he was also driven to suppress dissent in the pack. Unfortunately, one thing may have had something to do with the other.
“I’ll eat your brownie,” Jamie said.
“Go for it. I’m sure you’ll tell me how much you enjoyed it in lurid detail.”
“Yep. I sure will.”
Jim dropped his phone and keys on the counter and let himself out through the garage. He could have left the door open. His neighborhood was safe enough that no one would try to enter, except the rare reckless coyote. The coyotes were the problem.
As his feet hit the sidewalk, he considered stripping down at the wooded lot and going for a real run in fur and on four legs, but he’d use too much energy shifting back and forth. That amount of transforming would take everything he had. He needed to not only get up early in the morning but also to keep some energy banked for the full moon. If he were a betting man, he’d have put a hundred on some shit stain making a challenge—approve my mate, or I’ll fuck yours up.
So he walked the normal way people who took walks did, and tried to concentrate on things that weren’t him and weren’t Teddy. Things that weren’t coyotes.
That last thing was hard, because before he even got to the corner, one of the older pack members crossed the street toward him.
Already knowing what Harper was after, Jim growled low, squeezed his hands into fists at his sides and kept walking.
Three minutes, tops, and Harper would be trying to foist his unmated niece on Jim.
“Saw your ma earlier,” Harper said.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Said she wasn’t shifting this month. Doesn’t feel the urge.” Harper got in step with Jim, although Jim had purposefully increased his pace. The damned dogs could never tell when he wanted to be alone.
“I’m sure she has a lot to do at the farm,” Jim said. “Shorthanded out there.”
“She ought to hire someone.”
“Yeah, I guess she should, but every time she hires someone from the pack, they flake on her. Maybe she does better by not being bothered with folks.”
“That how she really feels about the pack?”
Harper was fishing, and Jim knew it. The older guys always tried to latch onto every perceived misstep so they’d have something to call him out over. He couldn’t just talk. Every damn sentence was a test or a negotiation. They’d been testing Jim since his father had died, and probably would never stop until Jim hurt them. He really didn’t want to hurt them.
“Hey. Did I tell you my niece is coming into town for the full moon?” Harper asked.
And here we fuckin’ go.
“Nope.” Jim shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and rounded the corner. He knew what was coming next.
“You could come over beforehand. The missus is putting on her usual spread, but with ribs this month. Already ordered the meat.”
“I think I might have plans already, but thanks.”
“Oh? What kind?”
Jim didn’t answer.
“Well, let me know if you’ll come. There’s plenty of food to go around.”
They walked in silence for a while, but even the silence was work because there was always something else coming. People in the pack didn’t show up randomly to approach him about pre-moon cookouts. He assumed they all had multiple motives.
“So...” Harper started.
Jim forced a hard breath through his nose and waved to his neighbors as they pedaled past on their bikes. His neighborhood had good roads for biking, and there was even a club that did group rides every Sunday morning. He made a mental note to tell Teddy about them. He didn’t know if Teddy was interested in biking for anything more than getting from Point A to Point B, but having some friends in the neighborhood could be a good thing for him.
Human friends.
“I was wondering if you’ve given any thought to who you’d promote into Hardy and Nate’s jobs.”
“No, honestly, I haven’t, because they’re still technically a part of this pack.”
“But they’re not here.”
“Trust me, no one knows that better than I do.” And there it went—that violent, whipping bark of this voice that made the lesser coyotes who liked to believe they weren’t lesser shrink back.
Harper flinched, turning his face a bit away from Jim and putting up his hands.
He tried to play off the reaction. A chuckle. A casual shake of his head.
A sideways look, because he couldn’t meet Jim’s gaze. He hadn’t been able to stare Jim’s father in the eyes, either.
“All right. All right.” He laughed again, and Jim wanted to put a fist through his face. “I was just saying. Folks were asking about it, and since I was here and had your ear, I thought I’d see where your head was.”
“Did you have someone in mind for the jobs?”
“Oh, no no.” Harper chuckled dryly. Jim suspected that if he could literally backpedal the hell away from him, he would have. “Not at all. We’re always curious about what’s in store for the pack and such. Your father used to be a lot more talkative about what he intended to do.”
“I’ve been alpha for fourteen years. I think it’s high time people started understanding what I do and what I don’t do. I haven’t had any major complaints in all this time, so what are you really asking me? I’d choose words carefully if I were you.”
“Listen, no need to get upset. I’m trying to help you out, right? Don’t you want to know what folks are saying?”
“You mean
what you’re saying and what rumors you’re spreading, right?” Jim stopped walking and turned to him. “You think I don’t know what you assholes do? You don’t think word gets back to me that people are sowing discontent because they’re not getting what they want and because I’m not making their wishes come true?”
Harper cringed and lowered his head submissively.
And there he goes. If Jim pushed him a little more, he could have the man on his knees and covering his neck, but they were in the suburbs. Even if no one was around, there were probably people watching.
“Let me clear the air for you right now,” Jim said. “I’ll pull lieutenants up when I’m good and damn ready. The fact that I haven’t done so already should be a big fucking hint that nobody is ready for the job. Nate and Hardy earned their stripes time and time again. You tell me who else has done the same.”
Harper had nothing to say, at least not to Jim. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.
He’d run and tell, probably, but Jim wasn’t done. Harper had interrupted his walk, so he was going to get the earful he so obviously wanted.
“Also, in spite of what you might have heard, I don’t need people to introduce me to potential mate prospects.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“You’re trying to help yourself. Your niece has been here six times in the past year, and she lives on the other side of the country. You think I don’t know what you’re doing? What all of you are doing?”
“You should have had someone by now.”
“Because thirty-five is so fucking old, right?” Jim started walking again.
“If you’re not interested in the legacy of the pack—”
“Don’t you dare try to question my intentions. Finish that sentence, and I swear to the gods, I will fuck you up.” He grabbed Harper by the collar of his work shirt and yanked him close to whisper, “And I won’t be coy about what happened when folks ask.”
Harper’s face was rapidly turning purple, and his scent spiked with a noxious combination of fear and anger.
Sickened, Jim pushed him away.
Harper cleared his throat and smoothed his wrinkled shirt. “You’re making a mistake,” he said with an affectation of calmness, as if Jim wouldn’t be able to tell. As if Jim were only pretending to be an alpha.
“Okay.” He nodded and kept moving.
His mistake was in being too nice. He’d worked his ass off for that pack for more than a decade, and he’d evidently let them think they could put a collar on him and lead him around on a leash.
If they wanted him to be the snarling, vicious beast so many other pack leaders were, they were going to get it.
He had a mate to worry about. No one was going to tell him what to do anymore.
“Maybe you think no one’s gonna challenge you,” Harper said. “Maybe you think folks are too scared to, but I know what the bylaws say.” Harper’s voice may have been unemotional, but Jim knew that if he turned to look at him, his expression would have given away his malice. The man had lost damn near every hand of poker because of his numerous tells, and couldn’t lie to save his life, but there he was, in unsubtle language, threatening his alpha. “You deny everyone else their chance to bring mates in, and maybe we’ll do the same to you if you don’t pick right.”
Jim didn’t respond. He put one foot in front of the other and headed for home.
He knew a threat when he heard one. Harper couldn’t challenge Jim and win, but that didn’t mean some shit stain wouldn’t try to challenge Teddy instead.
Or worse—hurt him without issuing a challenge at all. There was no guessing what a desperate shifter would do. The Wests had kept a strong grip on the New York pack for three generations. Because of their strength, the pack was calm and focused. The members were productive and organized. The Wests had prevented them from turning into the feral beasts so many other packs had devolved into.
The fact of the matter was, though, that Jim couldn’t stop them from being animals, and when animals were backed into the corner, they lashed out, even when doing so wasn’t in their best interests. They bit the hands that fed them.
Jim may have had more than his fair share of alpha magic, but he also had a pretty good brain to go along with it. Power wasn’t enough. He needed to have plans, too, and he was going to do everything in is power to keep Teddy safe.
He was not giving up his mate when he’d barely had a chance to have him.
Chapter Twelve
Teddy was curled up on the sofa when Jim returned, watching television on low volume and dreading the end of a day off.
Jim shut and locked the front door wordlessly, heeled off his boots and closed the blinds at the front of the house. “Did Jamie go home?” he asked without inflection.
“Yeah, but she might have left there. She got a phone call and said she needed to go to Connecticut to pick someone up.”
Jim grunted. He stood at the end of the sofa with his thumbs crooked into the pockets of his jeans, staring down at Teddy.
“What?”
Jim tipped his chin toward him. “What’s that mean? The Peggy on your sweatshirt.”
Immediately, Teddy looked down and peered at the picture. “Oh. It’s from the musical Hamilton. It’s become something of a running gag.”
“I guess the line doesn’t make sense out of context.”
“Nah. I’d explain what she means, but you should listen to the cast recording or watch a performance clip online. Impossible to get tickets to the show.” He grimaced. “I did try, though. I went to all the lotteries.”
“I never got to see any shows when I lived in Manhattan. I guess I was too busy. I came home almost every weekend.”
“Wow. I wish I could have done that. I think homesickness contributes to a lot of reckless behavior in the first couple of college years.”
“You could be right. My friends who never went home got into plenty of trouble.”
“Here.” Teddy tapped the sofa cushion beside him, and Jim, as if he’d been actually waiting for an invitation to have a seat in his own house, sat. “How was your walk?”
Jim squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and closed his eyes.
“That’s not a good sign.”
“You know how things are in small towns, I guess. Can’t help but to run into people you don’t want to see.”
“Enemies? I didn’t have enemies back in Iowa, per se. I had run-of-the-mill bullies who picked on me for obvious reasons. I guess with some kids, you know they’re queer long before they say anything or do anything to provide evidence.”
“I don’t know if ‘enemies’ is the right word, but it’s good enough for the time being.” Jim stared straight ahead in the general direction of the television but he didn’t seem to be looking at it. His jaw was twitching at the hinge, nostrils flaring, and he was alternately balling and unclenching his fists as if he couldn’t decide if something wasn’t worth a fight.
The last time a man had made fists in front of Teddy, Teddy had put on his shoes, grabbed his sweatshirt and left before he’d decided to do something with them.
But Jim’s mood seemed off. He might have been generally annoyed or frustrated, but Teddy didn’t think he was going to be his target. For Jim to be such a brute, he’d never even raised his voice at Teddy. He’d never touched him in a way Teddy didn’t like.
“Jim?”
Jim swallowed and then blinked. His brow furrowed as his gaze focused on Teddy. “Teddy’s short for Theodore?” he asked. “What’s your middle name?”
“Theodore.” Teddy raised an eyebrow at the subject change. “My first name is worse.”
“Tell me what it is. I should know your names. Not right that I don’t.”
“Lawrence. My mother
decided early on that I didn’t look like a Larry.”
Jim shook his head. “You don’t look like a Larry. My accountant is named Larry.”
Teddy hoped Larry did a better job with Jim’s finances than his maid had done with the house. He made a mental note to ask later. “What’s your middle name?”
“Joseph. James Joseph West the third.”
“So we’re both thirds.”
“Yeah?”
“I imagine the line stops with me.”
“Maybe not. You don’t think about having kids of your own?”
“Do you?”
Jim shrugged and worked his thumbnail against the edge of a rip in his faded jeans. “Every now and then. My mother likes to remind me that I’m thirty-five. She worries that she’ll be dead before I have any. She’s overly dramatic.”
“Nah. She loves you and wants another piece of you is all.”
Jim looked up from his jeans, expression twisted in confusion as if he really hadn’t considered that.
“Maybe I wouldn’t mind a kid or two,” Teddy said. “Truth be told, I don’t give the subject serious thought. I’m not in a great financial place, my job isn’t what you’d call stable and there’s that whole ‘no partner’ thing.”
“You could have a partner.”
“Oh?”
Jim’s jaw twitched again.
Teddy decided it was time for a subject change of his own, so he cleared his throat. “Heard I didn’t get the gig.”
“Hmm?” Brow furrowed yet again, Jim fixed his unusual yellow-brown stare on him. Teddy had never seen eyes the color of Jim’s before, except on Jamie, and even hers were a little darker. Jim’s eyes were hypnotizing, and Teddy had too many reasons to stare at the man already.
He sighed and rolled his gaze to the ceiling. “The role I waxed my junk for? I didn’t get it. They offered me an understudy position for a few chorus slots, but I don’t know if that’s up my alley. Not sure what made them think I’d keep up with the choreography. I specifically auditioned for a part that didn’t require dance training.”
“Maybe they like the way you looked.”
