by Zoe Chant
A sleepy, blissful contentment stole over her as she stroked the back of his neck, his shoulders, his upper arms and back.
He lifted his head and kissed the bottom of her chin, making her giggle.
“I hope you don't mind if I invite myself to stay right here,” he murmured.
“I won't kick you out of your own bed,” she promised.
He went to the side, their bodies separating. He dropped a kiss on her nose, and one of his arms wound around her and pulled her against him.
“Are you worried?” he asked. “About your brother, and the Wild Dogs.”
Elise tucked her head into the crook of his neck and nodded.
He stroked her hair. “Don't be. We'll figure everything out tomorrow.”
“Do you trust me?”
Elise had never felt as safe as she did then, wrapped in Noah’s strong arms and listening to his reassurances.
“Yes,” she whispered. She tucked her body closer to his, taking a leap of faith.
* * *
The smell of coffee—that heavenly, delicious nectar of the gods—was what woke Elise up.
“Mmm,” she murmured, breathing in the scent deeply but not opening her eyes.
A weight settled on the bed next to her, and Elise rolled toward it and cracked one eye open.
The sight of Noah arrayed in an apron and holding a tray greeted her.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asked. “Don’t tease me, now.”
He looked grave. “I would never. Coffee is serious business.”
“Damn straight.” Elise sat up, pulling the sheet over her torso. His eyes followed the gesture, dipping between the folds at what were clearly the outlines of her breasts. Smirking, she gestured toward the tray.
Hastily he jerked his eyes away. “I wasn’t sure how you take it, though, so I brought a little of everything.”
The tray, now laid out on her lap, was brimming with milk, cream, sugar, and every artificial sweetener known to mankind. There was even a little carton of soy milk.
“In case you’re vegan,” he said when he caught her eyeing it.
“I ate a jalapeño cheeseburger last night,” she pointed out, unable to stop the silly grin rising to her face.
“Or lactose-intolerant,” he added.
She giggled. She hadn’t known what he would do, how he would treat her or think of her after their one-night stand, but now she realized she had been afraid. Afraid that it was just a one-time thing. Instead, he was making her feel like a princess.
“I’m not lactose-intolerant,” she assured him, and reached for the milk and sugar. The aroma of the coffee was beyond enticing. But beneath that, behind it—
Elise sniffed. “Is that bacon?”
Noah smiled. “Sausage, I think. And more. If you come downstairs.”
“Did you cook breakfast for me?” she demanded, her words faint.
He looked evasive. “Maybe. Sort of. Come down and see.”
The prospect of breakfast, especially breakfast that someone else had made, made her get dressed like nothing else could. Noah kept his hand at the small of her back as they descended the stairs, reassuring her. The heavenly breakfast smells increased. She really hoped that it wasn't just some kind of duplicitous breakfast-scented candle. She was going to be very disappointed if it was. Surely Noah wouldn't be that cruel.
The sounds of conversation got louder, too.
“Who else is here?” she stage-whispered to Noah, her nervousness rising.
He grinned. “Some people I want you to meet.”
They passed through the waiting room, where Cecil was on one of the couches, still conked out and tucked into a blanket, and into a private room behind.
Elise gaped. It was a spacious, if plain, dining area and kitchen. There were six people sitting at a table that was large enough to seat ten at least. But what really got her goose was that the table was laid out with a veritable cornucopia of breakfast foods. Plates towered with sausages and scrambled eggs.
At Elise's entrance, a quiet “ooh” rose up from a few of the strangers. She felt herself turn pink.
“Everyone, this is Elise.” Noah hadn't taken his hand from her back. “Elise, this is everyone. Which is to say, this is the crew of Sweetwater Automotive.”
“Hi, Elise,” the group chorused. Several people shot knowing or amused looks at Noah. He returned them steadily.
“Come on, don't make me put on my chief hat. Introduce yourselves,” he chided.
One guy, who had been leaning back in his chair with a nonchalant, diffident air, gave her a winning smile that was charming enough to be not quite a leer and leaned toward her, nudging himself into her personal space. “I'm Tyler.”
Elise took his outstretched hand. He had bronze skin and blond hair that said he spent a lot of time outdoors—or with a spray tan kit and hair bleach. She shook his hand firmly. He held it for longer than was really necessary, letting go only when Noah shot him a glare.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, slipping her hand back into Noah's pointedly.
The introductions went around the table. She tried to assign everyone a memorable characteristic so she would remember their names later. She named Tyler The Playboy.
There was Oliver, who wore glasses and had dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck. Elise recognized a kindred spirit. He had a bit of a bookish air about him. She called him The Nerd in her head.
Next was Gabriel, whose brown hair was buzzed even shorter than Noah's. “I served with Noah in the Army,” he explained. Elise couldn't quite put her finger on it, but although he was perfectly friendly, there was something a little melancholy about him. Distant. She filed him under The Lost Ex-Soldier.
“I'm Will,” said the last man, with a brief wave from the other side of the table. His voice was quiet, but it carried easily across the chatter. He and the only other woman in the room were sitting with their chairs close together at one end of the table. She wondered if they were together, but then reconsidered her assessment. They resembled each other, both with strong jaws and straight black hair, though the woman was curvy while Will was more slim.
“And this is my sister Cam,” he added, jerking his head toward the woman in question while she was swallowing a bite. “Short for Cameron.” She didn't speak, but gave Elise an acknowledging chin-nod.
She wasn't quite sure how to classify these two, who seemed a bit distant from the rest of the group but close to each other; mentally she grouped them together under The Siblings.
Noah pulled out a chair for Elise and handed her a plate. “Dig in.”
The food tasted as good as it smelled. Everyone else seemed to be piling their plates high, so she followed suit.
“Is this normal?” she asked Noah in an aside.
“We do this every Monday before the shop opens,” he confirmed.
“We rotate,” Tyler chimed in. “Today was my day to make breakfast. I chose classic Americana.” He gestured at the table with a flourish, as if it held haute cuisine.
“I think you meant to say 'world's laziest breakfast’,” said Oliver dryly. “Given that scrambled eggs and sausage are about as simple as it gets when it comes to cooking. Except maybe toast.”
Tyler was unbothered by the criticism. “So it's simple and delicious. Perfect, right?”
“You could have at least cooked some bacon. I can't believe you travel the world and this is all you can ever come up with,” Oliver griped, then turned to Elise. “Seriously, he makes this every. Single. Time.” It sounded like a well-rehearsed complaint.
Tyler shrugged. “I can't help it if I spend most of my time abroad being served five-star meals instead of cooking for myself.”
Oliver rolled his eyes, but Elise could tell that the ribbing was affectionate.
“You travel?” Elise asked Tyler between bites of scrambled egg. She was, she could admit to herself, just a tiny bit envious. She had visited Europe once in college, and the little taste she'd gotte
n had given her an as-yet-unfulfilled appetite for more.
He smiled almost dazzlingly, and Elise could tell he was turning the full force of his charm on her. She wasn't quite immune, but the whiff of playboy that hung about him wasn't a turn-on so much as the complete opposite. She found she much preferred Noah's straightforward, serious interest.
“That I do,” he said. “I was in Monaco last year for the Grand Prix.”
“As a spectator, or…?”
“As a driver,” he corrected. “I'm in Formula One. Oliver here works on my car,” he added blandly, while Oliver sputtered insulted protests.
Elise sighed wistfully. “I'm so jealous. I went to Italy for a study-abroad program in college, and I've always wanted to go back.”
Tyler gave a roguish grin. “I'd love to take you back… mia cara.”
From Elise's left, Noah growled a warning in the back of his throat, an almost animalistic sound that surprised Elise but also made her squirm. But in a good way. One of his arms slipped around the back of her chair possessively.
“What a grumpy bear,” announced Tyler to the room at large.
It must have been some kind of inside joke; both Oliver and Tyler laughed, then stopped themselves and looked guilty, before the conversation turned toward other things.
“Noah doesn't often bring women home. So, tell us about yourself, Elise,” said Gabriel. His head was cocked to the side as he studied her.
The way everyone at the table quieted down at his words and turned their attention to her made her think she was an object of curiosity among the group. She wondered if they'd been talking about her before she arrived.
“There's not that much to say,” she said, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.
“What did you study in Italy?” asked Noah. He sounded interested.
“I majored in art history. There was a special program—we visited major architectural sites, important historical works of art, that kind of thing. We were mostly in Rome. It was only for a few weeks, though. I've always wanted to go back.”
“They don't have programs like that for those who major in engineering, alas. I've never been out of the country,” said Oliver. “Pretty much everyone else here has, though. Noah and Gabe were deployed in Afghanistan, and Cam and Will lived in Japan for a while.”
“For three years,” confirmed Will. He had finished eating and had been quietly observing the conversation.
“What kind of work did you do there?” asked Elise.
“We were hitmen for the yakuza,” said Will with a perfectly straight face. His sister elbowed him.
“I mean hit-people,” Will corrected gravely. “I wouldn't want to exclude assassins of other genders.” He had to be pulling her leg, but he looked so serious.
“You must kill at poker,” Elise said admiringly.
Will laughed, a short bark, and even Cam cracked a smile, though it quickly vanished. Elise got the feeling that was a rare occurrence, and fist-pumped internally.
“Actually, it's Cameron who usually cleans the rest of us out,” interjected Gabriel. “When it's not Oliver, who counts cards, by the way. Just so you know.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” said Oliver with what looked like his best facsimile of an innocent expression. It wasn't very good.
“Thanks for warning me,” Elise said, feeling the warm, fuzzy glow that came with acceptance.
She had the feeling these people were more important to Noah than just regular employees. They acted like a family. And Noah thought she was important enough to include her in it.
With a start, she realized that the serving dishes on the table were almost all empty. And she'd thought her brother had a hollow leg.
“Where did all the food go?” she asked reflexively, staring. “I swear, there was enough here to feed a herd of animals.”
A choking sound came from next to her, like a laugh that had been suppressed.
“We eat a lot,” said Tyler, and flexed a bicep. “Hard work in the shop, you know. All that lugging around heavy parts and screwing in bolts.”
“Right,” she said. “If you guys don't mind, can I save the last plate for my brother?”
A round of nods circled the room.
“Tyler, up front,” Noah instructed. “Everyone else, on the floor. Projects are on the board. I'll join you when I'm done with the dishes.”
This seemed to be everyone's cue to disperse, although Tyler complained a little about having to sit at the front desk.
Noah started gathering all the plates and cups from the table and taking them to the sink. Elise grabbed a few, too, not knowing what else to do with herself.
“You don't have to do that,” he said, plucking the stack of plates from her with one hand, without any visible effort. Being a mechanic really did do amazing things for one's physique, apparently, and it wasn't just for looks.
She shrugged. “I like to feel useful. Especially since you've gone out of your way for me.”
“It's nothing I wouldn't do for anyone.”
She gave him a sly look, remembering what Gabriel had said about Noah not usually bringing women home. “No? Including… all of last night? Are you sure?”
The tips of his ears, she observed, were very red. It was cute. “Maybe not just anyone,” he allowed.
Setting down her mug, she took the plate he'd been scrubbing at and slid it into the dishwasher.
“So you do this every week?” she asked.
“Every week,” he confirmed.
“All of you seem really close.”
“We're like family.” There was clear warmth in his voice.
“So it was kind of like meeting the family?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.
He paused in the middle of handing her a serving platter, looking consternated. “Was that too much?”
She couldn't contain her smile. “It was exactly right.”
Chapter Four
Noah
Even though his workday was like any other—responding to clients, managing the crew, working on cars—it felt completely different. Everything felt fresh, like he was seeing it through new eyes. Or maybe he was seeing it through Elise’s eyes. He knew it was her presence at his side that was making his day brighter.
He had been nervous about how she would like his crew. They were a group of misfits that had banded together for their own various and sometimes secret reasons, and they had some very different and strange stories to tell. Not to mention they were shifters. Shifters sometimes experienced life in very different ways from regular people, and they didn’t always get along.
But any fears he had had been allayed. She’d accepted Will and Cam’s reticence with grace, even though he could tell she was confused and curious about them. Tyler had been outrageous, as usual, even worse than usual. They were going to have words at some point in the near future. But Elise had shaken it off and made it clear who she was there with.
They had taken to her like a house on fire, too. At first he’d thought they were making the effort for his sake, but Noah couldn’t remember the last time Gabe had been so chatty.
Not that he was worried so much about Elise’s likability; if someone didn’t like her, he thought, the problem was with them.
She’d gone back upstairs to change into something a little plainer. He was planning to show her around the shop, and the oil and grime could be rough on clothes.
She was probably changing right now. Noah allowed himself the luxury of imagining the scene while he waited.
Elise had such creamy pale skin, dotted with the cutest freckles. And not just on her face. It was a shame she covered them up so much. He wanted to take his time next time, discovering and lavishing love on every freckle that accented her generous body.
She had looked so perfect in his bed that his heart had almost stopped. With her in it, the bed was the perfect size. When he was alone, it was a cavern that left him tossing and turning all night.
It didn�
�t look like it belonged with the rest of his things, either. His suite over the shop was starkly simple, almost embarrassingly so. He hadn’t minded that fact when he was the only one to see it, but Elise’s presence had reminded him how empty and plain it was. He almost cringed.
Bears didn’t usually build their dens before meeting their mates. Tradition said to do it after, together. But he had built the bed beforehand out of sturdy oak and wrought iron in his own design. He told himself the act of building it was boredom, his hands itching for something to do when he wasn’t working. But now he knew it was a shot in the dark—a shot of hope, a desire for someone to fill the glaring gap in his life, for someone to hold and protect. For a mate.
He knew that mate was Elise.
His crew had noticed the change in him right away, when he’d gone down to get Elise coffee in bed.
Gabe had given him a thoughtful look as he went for the coffee and said only, “You’re in a good mood.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
But it hadn’t stopped there. Will was watching him with that quietly perceptive way that he had, the one that always made Noah feel like his most intimate secrets were being bared.
Tyler had crowed immediately from his place at the stovetop, “Someone got laid!”
“What are you—” Noah had said, then seen all the little smirks around the room, and changed tactics. “Shut up,” he'd said halfheartedly, and started to put together a tray.
“Are you making her a breakfast tray?” Tyler had, poking the eggs with his spatula.
“What if I am?”
“Why so defensive?” Tyler had a truly obnoxious grin on his face. “Is she your maaaate?”
“I’m not defensive! Give me some of that,” said Noah, nodding to the eggs Tyler was scrambling.
Tyler jerked the spatula away before Noah could grab it. “No way. Is she your mate?”
If there had been any justice in the world, Noah’s glare would have burned holes in the brash tiger shifter. As it was, Tyler, being Tyler, just laughed the threat off. Noah’s bear had growled, and he’d even let out a bear-shaped rumble before catching himself.
