by Zoe Chant
“Wait, is she?” asked Gabe from the table.
Of course he’d interrupt his brooding for this, thought Noah darkly.
“I didn’t give her the mark, if that’s what you’re asking,” he snapped.
“But you want to,” said Oliver shrewdly.
“I didn’t say that. It’s not… She doesn’t even know about shifters. I’m just helping her out.”
“Methinks the werebear doth protest too much,” said Tyler in a horrible, fake British accent. God, tigers were smug. Sometimes the urge to knock his stripes off was overwhelming.
“Just give me some damn eggs,” Noah ordered. “I’m definitely not letting you lot loose on her.”
At this, Tyler’s demeanor changed in an instant. “Boss, I’ll be on my best behavior. I swear. You know how good I can be with women,” he wheedled.
“Yeah, no shit. That’s why I don’t want to.”
“Don’t want to let her near me?” Tyler preened. “Smart move, I wouldn’t either.”
Rolling his eyes, Noah turned to the group gathered at the table. “Anyone else want to air their oh-so-important thoughts on this matter?”
“Unlike Tyler, I would be a perfect gentleman,” promised Oliver, holding up a Boy Scout salute.
“I’d like to meet her,” Gabe offered.
Will and Cam only shrugged.
“Fine,” he snapped, and turned back to the tray he’d been preparing. It was stuffed full of coffee accessories and accoutrements anyway. “But I’m going to take her coffee first.”
“She’ll need it, if she’s having breakfast with Tyler,” said Cam in a deadpan, a trace of amusement lingering in her voice. “And there’s Splenda in the cabinet if she wants that. If you have room for it,” she added, eyeing his tray archly.
“Shut up,” he'd muttered for what felt like the dozenth time that morning. Everyone laughed.
He'd known it. Everyone had known it.
What he didn’t know was how she would respond to knowing the truth about him. She might be his mate, but would she want to take his mark?
Noah had never met a woman he wanted to mark, so he was at a loss. Moreover, none of his crew had ever taken mates, so they weren’t any help either. If Noah’s parents, or any of his clan, were alive, he could have asked them. But they weren’t.
She was a regular human, and as far as he knew she didn’t know there was any other kind. Shifters had all kinds of horror stories about humans reacting to shifters—their fear, their prejudice, their violence. Mentally, Nick knew this was garbage. Mostly garbage, anyway. But even if she didn’t assemble a mob and arm them with pitchforks, that didn’t mean she would want to be bitten by him. Not only was it a permanent scar—mating marks never disappeared—but it was a lifelong bond. Unbreakable.
And they’d known each other for less than twenty-four hours.
Obviously he’d have to wait for a while. Once her brother’s problem got cleared up, they would have all the time in the world to get to know each other, and each other’s secrets.
So long as his crew all kept their mouths shut, he thought wryly.
Elise returned in something more serviceable, although she would never be plain to him. Her golden hair fell in loose, natural curls down to her shoulders. Noah was tempted to tug on one of them and watch it bounce back, like a spring.
He resisted that urge, but not the one to kiss her. His hands fit to her waist and he ran his thumbs over her ribcage, fluttering.
She shivered, the gesture too small for anyone but him to see, and returned the kiss. It was maybe a little deeper than appropriate for a semi-public place, but Noah couldn’t bring himself to care.
His bear made a contented sound in his chest. You should keep her, his bear told him. She makes us happy.
“Hello to you too,” she said when they parted, looking rather pink. Then she blinked twice and pretended confusion. “What did I come down here for again? I can’t quite remember.”
“Well, if you want to stay upstairs…”
She giggled. “Not an unappealing idea. But I think your employees might protest.”
“I’m the boss. I can do what I want.” But he slipped an arm around her waist and led her out onto the shop floor.
It was a loud, busy place, and no matter how stringent Noah was, it was never sparkling clean. But Elise didn’t seem to be bothered by the noise and the grime. She looked out onto the floor with natural curiosity.
The floor was spacious. There were a few cars already inside, being worked on by the crew, and as they watched another drove up to speak with Gabe.
A 2011 Dodge Ram was getting an oil change. Noah pointed it out to Elise. It was being treated by Cam from beneath the floor.
“That’s how we get underneath cars. It’s a lot better than a jack and skateboard. Safer, too.”
“Makes sense,” said Elise, kneeling to see better.
She greeted Cam, who gave her a cautious wave of the hand in return before returning to her work. Cam would hate it if he said anything, but he wanted to tell Elise she was handling Cam pretty damn well, all things considered. Her reserve was off-putting to most people. Even getting her to acknowledge people beside her brother was occasionally a chore. He filed it away as something to mention to Elise later.
Head deep under the hood, Oliver was still examining a car that the owner had brought in complaining of a transmission problem.
“Still think it’s a leak?” asked Noah.
“It’s a leak. It’s definitely a leak,” grumbled Oliver. “I just… haven’t figured out where exactly the leak is.”
Oliver’s voice was raised because of the ambient clanks and hums in the shop, but even if it hadn’t been, his frustration would still have been obvious. He batted a spare hose hanging nearby irritably. Despite his mood, the gracefulness of his panther side was still evident.
Noah hid a smile. Oliver might seem pissed, but Noah knew the best way to engage him was to give him a problem that took some time to work out. Simple, repetitive, mindless work was death to someone so intelligent. Finding the transmission leak wouldn’t be as fun as figuring out the best ways to make Tyler’s car faster, but it would at least engage Oliver’s attention for a while.
“Let me know if you find it,” said Noah.
“When I find it,” Oliver corrected, but he wasn’t paying attention. His gaze was still on the transmission, and his long fingers traced its edges.
“Right, right, of course,” Noah teased. Oliver waved him off.
“Sorry, I know it’s dirty,” Noah apologized to Elise as they stepped around one of the big tool chests.
Running her finger over the top of the chest collecting grime, she grinned. Then she wiped it off on her shorts. “That’s okay! It’s kind of nice, actually. My mom was a neat freak, and I… am not.”
“Does she live around here?”
“Oh no, she passed away a few years back.”
Noah felt like a fool. She’d said “was”, after all. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” She seemed disinclined to talk about it further.
They were standing at the big open door facing the street. As towns went, Sweetwater wasn’t exactly huge, but they did a decent business and were right in the middle of town. Her eyes ran over the cars parked outside nearby until she picked out her own.
“You said it was pretty easy to fix?” she asked anxiously.
“It’s just an alternator. We keep the standard ones around, it happens all the time,” he assured her. Then an appealing idea occurred to him. “Here, do you want to help me?”
She looked delighted, even clapping her hands together. “Can I really?”
“You can. We don’t even need to go inside.” In truth, Noah could probably do it himself while blindfolded. But he was sure he could find something for her to do besides stand there and look pretty. Not that he would mind if she did.
Radiating excitement, Elise helped him pop the hood and stood next to him with her
hands on her hips. “Okay, teach me your car-fixing ways, Jedi Master.”
“All right, Padawan.”
Inevitably, engines got dirty with accumulated dust and dirt and oil. Even such a simple part replacement involving no fluids left their hands grimy.
Elise chose to solve this by wiping her hands on his shirt. First the palms, then the backs. It was black, so nothing showed, but he still raised an eyebrow at her.
“What?” she giggled. “Isn’t that what that tank top is for? You get it really dirty and then… you have to take it off.”
“What I’m hearing is, you want me to take my shirt off.”
“Hey, I didn’t make the rules, buddy. Besides, you can do me.” She held out the edges of her shirt to him.
As fun as mutual shirtlessness would be, Noah wanted to keep her all to himself. He very gently, almost chastely, put his hands on her waist and drew her in for a kiss, then rubbed her sides with his hands, making her laugh again.
When they parted, she examined her hands. There was still a streak of grease on the inside of her finger. She took care of it by swiping it across his bicep, transferring it to him.
“Hey!” he protested.
“You were too clean. All mechanics should go around with a sexy grease smudge. I think it’s the law. Go on, flex it,” she said, barely keeping the giggling in.
“Everything becomes clear,” he said teasingly. “You just want me for my body.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She put her hands on her waist, pulling him closer. “Although it is a very nice…”
Noah cupped her face and drew her in for another kiss, one deep and slow and barely appropriate for standing out in the open like they were.
They were interrupted by a cough: at first barely noticeable, then louder. Caught up in Elise’s soft lips and darting tongue and the sensation of her breasts against his chest, shooting straight to his groin, making him almost painfully hard, Noah at first ignored the noise.
But Elise didn’t. Catching a glimpse of whoever was trying to get their attention, she squealed, and then jumped back out of Noah’s arms hastily.
Noah look up at the clear blue sky and counted to three. Whoever it was, they were going to get stuck with front desk duty for a month. Then he turned around.
It was her little brother, Cecil, looking simultaneously grossed out and mutinously pissy.
“Can I help you?” Noah asked, as politely yet pointedly as possible.
The teenager shifted from one foot to the other, obviously warring between two desires: telling off Noah for making out with his sister, and asking for something.
The latter won out. “I, uh, need to get some stuff.”
Elise spoke up. “You can’t go back to the house, Cecil! What if they’re watching it?”
He shifted his glare to his sister. “You don’t know that! Besides, how long are we supposed to stay here, just waiting for them to do something?”
“I’m inclined to agree with your sister,” said Noah.
“Of course you are, you just shoved your tongue down her—”
“You don’t want to finish that sentence,” said Noah as pleasantly as he could. “As I was going to say, we don’t know how long it’s going to be, no. So I’m happy to go to the store, or send you there. On my dime, since this was my idea.”
That quieted Cecil some, like Noah knew it would. He knew he couldn’t protest without seeming excessively bratty and ungrateful.
“Is he going to be safe?” asked Elise.
“I can take care of myself,” muttered Cecil.
“Of course you can,” soothed Noah. “But someone has to drive you. Hey—Tyler! Tyler!”
His shout carried across the yard to the front office, where Tyler’s exceptional hearing picked it up even through the closed door and all the noise coming from the shop.
Twitchy, restless, bored, and none too pleased with Noah, Tyler jogged up to their little group.
“Want to get off the phones?” Noah asked him.
“You know I do,” said Tyler suspiciously. “You got a job for me?”
“Take the kid to the store,” said Noah, jerking his head in Cecil’s direction.
“I’m not a kid,” muttered Cecil. No one listened.
“From the front desk to babysitting,” said Tyler, sounding almost as put-out as Cecil. “I must be moving up in the world.”
“Do you want to, or not?”
Tyler considered. Noah knew he would say “yes” eventually, if only to get out of the office for a while, no matter how insulted he felt. Plus, it would be a chance for Tyler to show off his car to someone who would be impressed by it, which he did at every turn, responsive audience or no.
“Do you have money?” Tyler asked Cecil, who looked embarrassed at the question.
“Take some petty cash,” said Noah before he could respond.
“All right, all right,” groused the tiger shifter, nodding at Cecil. “Come on, let’s go. You can see my…” His words grew fainter as they walked away.
“He doesn’t like being the receptionist, huh?” said Elise after they were gone. She sidled up to Noah and slid her hand into the crook of his arm.
“Not really, no,” admitted Noah.
“Why do you make him do it, then?”
“Tyler has a pretty specialized skill set. He likes body work, painting, that kind of stuff. When he's not racing, that is. We do some of that here, but there’s not really enough business to keep him busy all the time. Our last receptionist left a few months ago, so I figured, why not let him take over in his downtime? Save us a few bucks, keep him busier…”
“Attract more female clientele?” suggested Elise, pursing her lips to suppress a smile.
Noah coughed. “Yeah, that too.”
“Well, he is very pretty.”
This pricked Noah a little more than he expected it to. He tried to push it down. “You think so?”
Elise laughed. “I looked your shop up on Yelp. There were quite a few flattering reviews. You all have your admirers, though. Maybe you should go ahead and call yourselves the Hot Mechanics.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “You’ve got quite a following. I didn’t know mechanics had groupies.”
It was almost a question, the way she said it. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. She felt as insecure as he did.
“Not like that,” he assured her. Female customers who came in sometimes flirted, but it had never gone farther than that, with him anyway. “Maybe Tyler, though. He probably has a harem out there.”
She laughed. Her hand slipped off his arm. “So what do we do next?” she asked abruptly.
They had already fixed her car, and he thought she might be worried about what was going to happen next, both with the gang and with him.
“Maybe have lunch?” he suggested.
* * *
After lunch, Elise took a chair outside and pulled out a sketchbook and pencil.
“I’ve mostly painted nature stuff, not so much people and machines,” she’d admitted. “It would be nice to brush up on my skills.”
She tucked her legs up into the plastic chair and balanced her sketchbook on her bare thighs, biting her lower lip in concentration.
As much as Noah preferred being near her and having her close by, her absence gave him the opportunity to discuss with Gabe what he was calling The Situation: Elise’s problem with the Wild Dogs.
“What do you know about them?” Gabe asked, pulling up a chair to the front desk. His face was always serious, but he now had on his soldier’s “planning an op” face.
A mixed-shifter group like their crew didn’t technically have an alpha, but Noah considered himself the de facto leader all the same, and he considered it his responsibility to stay on top of possible threats. The Wild Dogs were one, and even though Noah had never personally encountered them, they were high on the list.
“They’re shifters. Hyenas, I think,” said Noah.
Gabe nodded. �
��That keeps our options open, at least.”
In some ways that was better, and in others worse. If they hadn’t been shifters, his crew would have much more limited ability to deal with them. They couldn’t reveal their shifter nature to regular humans. On the other hand, shifters were more dangerous than most regular people, even biker gangs.
“I don’t know how many there are. As many as us, at least,” Noah said reluctantly. He’d seen them on the road occasionally, their snarling dog logo prominent. He sometimes saw half a dozen or more at a time.
“Not counting Cameron,” said Gabe, eyes flicking to the shop floor.
“Right.” He'd never actually seen Cam shift, and supposedly she was a fox anyway—probably not up to dealing with hyenas. Not that he wanted her to hear that. She wouldn’t like it.
“A bear, a dragon, a tiger, a wolf, and a panther. We’re pretty well suited to dealing with a pack of hyenas,” mused Gabe.
“Hyenas are more dangerous than you think. Don’t underestimate them,” Noah warned.
“Aren’t they scavengers, not hunters? And they’re the size of a starved dog.”
“And they have to defend their scavenging. Not to mention that since they’re shifters, they’ll be bigger and stronger than the wild version.”
“True.” Gabe looked thoughtful. “You know, dragons do one-on-one duels to settle debts, instead of everyone in the clan getting involved.”
“Trying to save your own ass, huh?” Noah joked. Gabe snorted. Then Noah turned serious. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Assuming they have enough honor to stick to the terms, of course,” said Gabe.
“It’s something to try, anyway. I’ll make some inquiries and find out who their leader is.” Sitting back, Noah stole a glance out the window at Elise. A breeze was lifting the ends of her hair. It made a very pretty picture, but it was clearly annoying her—she kept having to tuck her hair out of the way, and it kept popping back out. It made him smile.
Gabe was watching him. “You like her,” he said. Classic Gabe: master of the understatement.
“Yes,” Noah said, not bothering to deny it. Maybe with someone else, but not Gabe.
“She likes you, too.”
Noah knew it already, but it was nice to hear it confirmed by someone else. “Yeah,” he said, smiling.
