Heartsridge Shifters: Grant

by Olivia Arran

  I decided that this was as good a time as any to escape the kitchen and get first dibs on the shower. Half an hour later, we were all in the SUV and on our way back to the station. Pulling up, we all piled out and made our way across the parking lot. Keeping my voice low, I went over the plan, “We’ll set the bait in play tonight with a 24-hour deadline. When you’re on patrol, keep your eyes and ears open. There’s an unregistered shifter out there who wants to make trouble for us. Remember, we don’t know if the shifter is one of the ones we’re looking for, so use caution.”

  Everyone nodded, their expressions locking down into work mode as we strolled into the station, bypassing good old Trig and making our way back to Kel’s office where we were meeting the squad this morning. After greeting everyone, we moved into a conference room, to give us space to spread out before we received our patrol assignments for the day.

  “Any questions?” Kel looked around the room from where he was perched on the edge of the table, having eschewed the chair for the advantage of height.

  All of my attention was focused on the woman sitting next to me, so … nope. I could only hope she’d been listening during the briefing.

  Daryl raised a hand, lounging in his chair.

  “Anyone?” Kel repeated, deliberately not looking his way. “Okay, good. Stay safe out there.” He gathered up his papers and giant mug as we all went to move out.

  Mandy nudged me. “Wait, I want to watch,” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth, tugging me back down into my seat. Her hand lingered on my arm, forgotten as she surreptitiously watched Daryl stalk across the room, which was a lot emptier since half of the teams had already gone to work.

  Daryl approached Kel, a blank look on his face that I hadn’t seen before. “I had a question.”

  The Lieutenant barely glanced at him. “You always have a question, Daryl.”

  My teammate drew himself up to his full height, which put him at a slight advantage over the older, human male. Both of the men were of an equal bulk, but where Daryl crackled with the wildness of his wolf, Kel exuded a calm, steely authority. Polar opposites.

  I pressed my hand over Mandy’s. “I’d better go rein Daryl in,” I whispered, half rising out of my chair.

  Mandy’s head whipped around, shaking a vigorous negative. Grabbing my hand, she yanked me up and sped toward the door, flattening herself against the wall once outside and clear. “Come on…” she hissed, poking her head around the door and peering back in.

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  I got an exasperated glare as a thank you for my concern, before her attention was diverted again.

  “Mandy—”

  “Shhhh!”

  Rolling my eyes and giving up on all hope of understanding, I leaned back against the wall and waited.

  Daryl’s and Kel’s voices started up again, drifting out of the open gap, and I listened in halfheartedly. At least if they started brawling, I was close enough to intervene. And I’d have an excuse to whoop Daryl’s ass, which was always a good way to let off some steam. Win-win in my book.

  I listened in for a few more minutes, but the pair were just arguing over something and nothing, trying to figure out who had the biggest balls. Boring shit.

  My eyes slid to Mandy, trailing a path down her uniform clad back. On her, the standard beat cop uniform looked like tailored perfection, the pants cupping and hugging her ass like a second skin. And what a fine ass it is…

  A finger tapped me under the chin and I let my head be pulled back up, meeting brown eyes that were more amused than angry. “At least now I know what you think about the uniform.” She winked at me, her gaze briefly dipping south to eye my bulging crotch.

  I smirked. “I do like your uniform.”

  “I like yours too. You look like an action figure doll.”

  I frowned, glancing down at myself. Black cargo pants, long sleeve black t-shirt, black boots. Comfortable and hardwearing, plus easy to move in. Back at the packhouse, I mainly wore sweats when working, due to having to shift into my wolf, but the extra pockets in the pants came in handy while trying to infiltrate the human world. No, not infiltrate—fit in.

  “All tight and black, it makes you look…” She tapped a finger to her bottom lip, snagging and fixing my attention on the plump, bitable flesh. “…Dangerous.”

  I rolled against the wall, until I was leaning on my shoulder, facing her. “It could be all of the pockets. Lots of hiding places for dangerous objects.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched. “Dangerous objects? So that’s what you’re calling it, huh?”

  I managed to bite back a quip about being well trained on handling dangerous weapons, though she had to have read it on my face—probably due to the contortion required to hold it in—because she slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her laughter.

  “You started it,” I muttered, reaching out and peeling her hand away from her face so I could see her smile. “Calling me dangerous.”

  Her laughter had stopped, right around the moment I’d taken her hand. “But you’re not, are you?”

  “To you, never. To every other fucker out there who wants to mess with me and mine? I’m their worst—”

  “Christ, you’re driving me insane!” Kel’s frustration echoed in the muffled shout, biting at each word.

  “What is your fucking problem, Keelin? I know you can’t stand me, which is absolute bullshit, because I’ve never had a problem getting on with anyone before. Ever. I’m a likable guy! That’s who I am. Sure, I joke around and get on people’s nerves, but that’s just me. For some reason—some strange fucking reason—I thought we might have a laugh together.” Daryl’s laugh was dark and strained, as if pulled straight from his gut. His voice deepened to a throaty growl, “I thought you were an okay kind of guy. But fuck this shit, I ain’t got time for this.”

  Holy shit, Mandy mouthed, eyes widening.

  Heavy footsteps headed our way.

  “Wait, Daryl,” Kel called out.

  The footsteps paused and I heard a low growl. “What is it, Keelin?”

  “You’re right, I do have a problem with you.”

  I made a motion to Mandy that we should scram and we started easing ourselves backward, away from the doorway.

  Daryl’s sound of disgust couldn’t be missed. “’Course you do,” he said in a low voice, but by now it sounded more tired than angry. He was back in control.

  And we were safe to leave; whatever issues they had, Daryl could deal with it. And no way was I hanging around for him to harass me into swapping partners. Clearing the hallway, we double-timed it out to the parking lot after snagging a set of keys for a patrol car. Throwing ourselves into the car, we slammed the doors, our eyes meeting over the center console.

  Mandy reflected my confusion right back at me.

  “That was not what I expected to happen,” she eventually said.

  “Me either,” I automatically replied, then pulled up short. “Wait, no, I expected them to have a shouting match.”

  She snapped her seatbelt into place and checked her mirrors before starting the car. “What are you looking so confused about then?”

  Following suit, the seatbelt, not the mirrors, I eased the seat back to make room for my longer legs, as far as the caged off backseat behind me would allow. “Because I can’t figure out why they’re at each other’s throats. Daryl’s right—everyone tends to like him.” I snorted. “Sure, he can be an annoying shit, but that’s part of his charm. He’s genuinely a good guy.” Which was why I called him one of my closest friends.

  Steering the car out of the parking lot, Mandy gave me the side-eye. “I can’t decide if you’re being deliberately obtuse or if you really don’t have a clue about what’s happening around you.”

  “Hey!”

  She waved off my indignation. “I know that Kel told you he likes men.” Her fingers circled in the air, encouraging me to connect the dots.

  What dots?

  Sure, I
knew about Kel… I frowned. It was way too early for this shit, I wasn’t even on my third cup of coffee yet. “Wait! You think the Lieutenant…” This time I was circling my fingers in the air.

  “Exactly. It’s obvious. My old man is smitten.” A slow smile spread across her face, lighting up her eyes to a burnished honey brown. “They’d make a cute couple.”

  I repeated the words she’d mouthed at me earlier, “Holy shit.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Yup.”

  I wondered if Daryl even had a clue. At least he was good at turning away unwanted attraction, leaving them feeling good about themselves. He’d had enough practice with women, I could only hope it worked the same for men.

  “It’s none of our business,” I finally said, thanking my lucky stars that was the truth.

  Mandy just hummed in her throat and I pretended that she was agreeing with me. Better for everyone if I lived in denial for a little while longer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mandy

  “You’re not going to eat all of that, are you?” I gave Grant my best doe eyes, fluttering my eyelashes at him as we walked down the corridor, having just returned from an uneventful day of patrolling.

  “Mrs. Barone said I needed fattening up,” he replied around a mouthful of cannoli, licking his fingers clean. “You already ate yours, anyway.”

  “You have no proof.” I launched myself at the open box in his hands, plucking out my prize.

  “You wouldn’t…” His eyes widened as I stuffed the pastry in my mouth.

  I chewed vigorously, then licked at my lips to catch the crumbs. “You bet your sweet ass I would fight you for the best cannoli in town.” When I eyed the remaining two, he lifted the box in the air, high above my head. Not playing fair at all.

  “What will you give me for my remaining cannoli?” he asked. I could see the ideas running around inside his head, sparking behind his eyes.

  The door to the conference room was open and it looked like we were the first ones back. “What do you want?”

  His lids lowered, giving him a predatory air which was encouraged by the curl of his lips and the way he stalked toward me, strong and determined, a man who knew exactly how to play this game. “A second chance.”

  My knees hit the table and I braced my hands against it. “You were supposed to ask for a kiss.”

  Our knees brushed together as he wafted the pastry box in front of my nose. “So you could peck me on the cheek and call it done?”

  “Now you’ll never know.”

  He set the box down on the table, leaning into me until his mouth grazed my ear. “Say yes and I’ll get you all the cannoli you can eat.”

  I may have accidentally arched into him, head tilting back so that his mouth trailed along my cheek, his lips sliding against my jawline.

  His chest brushed against mine as his hand moved to cup my hip. “Is that a yes?”

  His husky voice rumbled through me, combined with the heavy weight of his hand on me had my lips parting on a soft moan. “All the cannoli I can eat?”

  He nipped at my jaw. “Anything you want, pretty lady.”

  At this moment in time, I couldn’t think of a single reason to say no. I turned into him and our lips brushed, catching and pressing together as we both let out a groan. Pastries forgotten, I curled my hand around his bicep, pulling him closer and clinging at the same time, breath catching as the kiss firmed, his tongue sliding across the seam of my lips until I opened to him, accepting him deeper, tangling myself in him until we were fused together.

  I’d been sure that I’d imagined our previous kiss, built up in my mind how good it had been, how perfect, only so I could torture myself every night I spent in my bed alone. But now I knew the truth—my memory had failed.

  It was all that and more. So, so much more.

  A loud, pointed cough sounded behind us. “Don’t mind if I eat these, do you?”

  My hand shot out even before I’d broken away from the kiss, grabbing Sarah’s hand. “My cannoli.” I mock growled for good measure.

  “Ooooh, feisty.” My friend winked at Grant. “Lucky you!” She let go of the box, but managed to stroll away with a single pastry. “Best friends and housemates share, Mandy. Remember? We’ve talked about this.” She gave me a sad face as everyone else filed into the room. Then she randomly threw out her hand, positioning it directly in Dante’s face, who’d followed her across the room. “Remember the deal? We’re off the clock now, so no speaking. No wheedling. No trying to tell me what to do.”

  Dante peered down at her hand, violet eyes narrowed.

  “Run along now. I’ll play with you again tomorrow.” She made a shooing motion.

  Everyone waited for the explosion. Talon stuffed a fist in front of his mouth, a strange noise erupting. Daryl muttered something about popcorn, while Grant tensed beside me. The rest of my squad—myself included—readied ourselves to pile in and save our friend from certain scorch marks.

  “I don’t play games.” That’s all he said before taking a seat and staring at her with his strange colored eyes. I couldn’t decide if he wanted to fry her or eat her. Sarah didn’t seem bothered though, rolling her eyes and giving him her back.

  The debriefing went fast, everyone’s day having been as quiet as ours, and we were soon heading off to our respective homes.

  Grant caught me at the conference room door, holding it open for me with a smile on his handsome face. “I’ll pick you up at 7:40 again?”

  Oh, yeah. We’d rebooked with Mrs. Barone for tonight. Or, rather, she’d already rearranged our booking for us. “Sounds perfect.”

  Fast forward a couple of hours that were basically a rerun of last night’s panic dressing, and I found myself seated across the car from Grant, parked outside the restaurant. “What are the odds we’ll actually make it inside tonight?” I wondered out loud, reaching for the door handle and sliding out of the car.

  Rounding the hood, Grant slipped his hand into mine as we made our way to the door. Dipping his head next to mine, he brushed my hair behind my ear, lowering his voice to a soft growl, “You nearly didn’t make it out of the house.”

  I snuck a glance, unable to keep the corner of my mouth turning smug. “I could tell.”

  His reaction had been worth the decision to wear a dress. I didn’t do dresses, which was why I only owned two, both bought for weddings. The one I had finally decided on—with Sarah having the final vote—was a short flirty number that swished around my thighs as I walked, reminding me with every step that it wasn’t summer anymore and we didn’t live in the South. It was a soft pale yellow with three quarter sleeves and a dipped back, the color looked great against my skin and clung in all the right places. So, yeah, it looked all right—for a dress.

  Grant’s mouth had fallen open and he’d actually sagged to the side, reaching out to catch himself on the doorframe at the last minute.

  Yep, so worth freezing my tits off.

  Once safely inside the restaurant and seated at our table, after being smothered in hugs and cheeks pinched by Mrs. Barone, we settled back in our seats and soaked in the atmosphere. Wine was poured and freshly baked bread brought out, along with a selection of antipasto and dipping oils. Smoothing the blue and white checkered table cloth with my hand, I fiddled with my fork, turning it over and over, spinning the tines into a blur.

  Grant’s hand came down on mine, stopping my aimless spinning. “What’s wrong?” Adjusting his grip, he turned my hand over and deposited a bread roll in it.

  “See? You already know me so well.” The light comment held an edge to it that I hadn’t realized had been weighing on me. “I know nothing about you.” And you say I’m your mate, I silently added.

  Taking a roll for himself, he tore off a piece and dabbed it in the oil and vinegar dip. “What would you like to know?”

  I screwed up my nose in thought, then dived straight in, “Where did you live before Heartsridge? Do you have any family? Do they live ne
arby? How old are you? Do you have a middle name?”

  He threw up his hands, his chuckle deep and sincere. “Whoa, let me start answering before I forget what you’ve asked.” Biting down on the inside of his cheek, he scrunched up his forehead. “Let’s see … there’s mom, dad, and my two sisters, both younger than me by ten years. They live over in Montana, so I usually do a road trip a couple of times a year to go visit. That’s where I used to live, until I joined Owen’s pack and moved to Heartsridge to be his enforcer.” He paused, gathering his thoughts and filling his mouth at the same time. I liked a man who knew how to multitask. Swallowing, he continued, “Grant Antonio Romano and I’m thirty-three years old.” He arched an eyebrow in silent question.

  “Mandy Rosemary Evans. Twenty-eight years young.” At his grin, I smacked his hand which was helpfully resting on the table. “And it’s rude to ask a woman her age.”

  “How did I get a smack when you offered the information without question or cajoling?”

  “When did you learn to speak like a lawyer?”

  “My mom.” I’d noticed that Grant’s voice was fond when he spoke of his family and I swallowed down the pang of longing. “She used to have a fancy job complete with fancy office, but when the Registration Act came into effect, we had to relocate and find new jobs. She still practices law, but it’s really only in an advisory capacity. Drafting documents, helping with mediations and so on.”

  Ignoring table manners, I propped my elbow on the table and settled my chin in my hand. “And your dad, what does he do?”

  “He stayed at home to help raise us kids, but now we’re fully grown he’s gone back to working in construction. He’s a sparky.”

  “Ah, an electrician. I know all of the lingo.” I picked up my wine glass and took a sip. “And your sisters?”

  He grinned, love beaming out of him. “Troublemakers.” Taking a gulp of his wine, he cleared his throat. “Iesha is studying through distance learning, while Tamara is mated and expecting her first.”