Welsh Wolves 1: Let Sleeping Wolves Lie

by Tielle St Clare

  The memory made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and the bar was looking better and better.

  He climbed out of the low-slung sports car, going around to the other side to help Monica out. Her ankles wobbled as she stood on the gravel pad. She grabbed the room of his car to steady herself. After a few seconds, she stabilized and straightened, smoothing her hand across already smooth hair.

  “Let's go.”

  Maddock closed the car door and took her arm, helping her across the crunchy surface. They entered the dimly lit bar. Maddock's eyes adjusted quickly to the low light and he spotted a table that kept his back mostly to the wall and gave him a view of the door.

  Not that he thought he was in danger, but habits were hard to break.

  He guided Monica into a chair, took his place against the wall and did a quick scan of the bar. Only one other table was occupied. Two women and a man. The women seemed more focused on the two guys at the bar—the bartender and another man who looked like he belonged. Bouncer probably. Maddock smiled. Doubtful they got much trouble with a big guy like him keeping the peace.

  Maddock looked around for a waitress and menus. He shook his head. He’d really gone over to the dark side if he expected a dive like this to have menus. Hell, he’d just order up at the bar.

  Before he could push back his chair, another man walked in, appearing from an open door behind the bar. Blondish-brown hair hung past his chin framing a face that looked too young to be in a bar. But like the other two—he looked like he belonged. He had an apron around his waist and a damp cloth in his hand.

  Something about the way he moved caught Maddock’s attention. The kid swished a little as he walked and Maddock found his eyes drifting to the guy's ass. The pale blue denim looked thin and worn. It wouldn’t take more than one good tug and the kid would be bare-assed naked…because some unknown insight told him the guy went commando.

  It took him a moment to realize he was staring. At another man's ass. He gave himself a shake, glanced at Monica to see if she’d noticed, then focused on his phone. He tapped the security code into the keyboard and sighed as his email popped up. That would keep his wandering eyes busy.

  Dex swung his hips to the slow rhythm of the jukebox as he wiped down the table. He was having a good day. The crowd was light but it would pick up as people headed home. For an out-of-the-way bar, they'd started to draw in a fair number of regulars, plus the occasional traveler.

  Like the couple who'd just walked in the door. Dex chuckled. They so didn't fit with the décor, but Dex had made it his mission to be friendly and welcoming to everyone. Even if they looked like they belonged in a corporate boardroom.

  Both were focused on their phones. She talked on hers. He seemed to be texting. Dex didn’t have a problem with cell phones and smart phones, but the couple hadn’t even spoken to one another since they walked in. How rude.

  The woman was dressed in a beige skirt suit that fit perfectly but the color washed her out. From the tight set of her shoulders and pursed lips, she didn’t mind being a little bland.

  But the guy…Dex's eyes locked on him and wouldn’t pull away. Yummy. Tall, broad-shouldered. The deep gray suit he wore fit his body to perfection, clinging to the shoulders, tapering down to a narrow waist. Clearly tailored.

  His dark hair was a bit too short, but that was something easily fixable.

  Dex had become a fan of long hair on a man in the past six months. He'd let his grow. So had Reese. He didn't know if it was an instinctual thing to match their Alpha or just that they both liked the way it looked on Micah.

  Dex licked his lips and let his gaze linger on the new arrival.

  Beyond just the guy’s looks, power hovered around him. He’d walked into a strange bar and looked around like he could take on anyone in the place. That kind of energy made Dex want to hump his leg like a happy puppy.

  Dex pushed the thoughts away and went to the bar. He tossed the rag away and grabbed his tray.

  “You got 'em?” Reese asked. Dex nodded. He'd learned long ago not to ask how Reese knew someone had walked in.

  Reese was blind, but he was the most sighted blind man Dex had ever met.

  Dex walked over to the table and tossed down a couple of napkins.

  “Welcome, folks. How y'all doing?” It was a little country, but sometimes the Southern boy in him just came out.

  They both nodded, which he took to mean they were fine, though the woman looked across the table with a bit of a smirk. She pulled the phone away from her ear and set it down on the table.

  “Maddock, Tim said he'll take the four o'clock.”

  “Good.”

  Dex stood there for a moment, wondering if he should start again.

  “What can I get you?”

  “A menu,” the man said.

  Dex turned what he hoped was a blinding smile on the guy.

  “We don't—” The words locked in his throat. Blue eyes, the color of glacier ice, stared back at him. Dex took a breath and tried to start again. “We don't—”

  A delicious scent surrounded the guy and it was all Dex could do not to lean down and inhale. Fuck, that smell could make him high. Even as he sampled the yummy scent, he acknowledged the fundamental sensation beneath it.

  “Maddock” was a wolf. At least, Dex thought he was a wolf. He smelled like one, though it was difficult to recognize beneath the cologne he wore. To a human, the smell wouldn't have been overpowering but it managed to mute the wolf's distinctive scent.

  Dex took another breath trying to catalog the various smells. He dismissed the cologne, going for the scent beneath. Definitely yummy wolf. His mouth watered as he imagined licking that delicious flavor from every part of the man’s body.

  Another fainter smell invaded Dex’s nose. Female.

  The wolf in Dex's head growled. The sound tickled Dex's throat but he crushed the noise, turning it into a squeak.

  Those ice blue eyes widened, then squinted down.

  “Can you—” The phone in Maddock's hand chimed and he looked down. “Damn.” As if Dex wasn't standing there, he tapped an answer out on the screen. “What were you saying?” he asked absently.

  “Who? Me?”

  Maddock looked up. “Yes.” The word was snapped out. His wolf whined as if he’d been spanked—which led Dex’s thoughts in a completely different direction—him, naked, bent over, his ass burning from a good smart spanking. Oh yeah.

  He met Maddock’s glare and gulped.

  “I’m sorry. What was the question?”

  “A menu.” He spoke like he thought Dex was a little slow. Dex sighed. He couldn’t really blame the guy. He hadn't been at his most coherent.

  “Right. No.”

  “What?”

  “No menu. We don't have one. No food.”

  “Not even pub food?”

  The question made sense. It was a pub after all.

  “No. None of us can cook.” Dex stared into Maddock's eyes and lost himself for a few heartbeats. “Well, I mean, I can make scrambled eggs…” And maybe I could make you breakfast someday. “And sandwiches, but we really didn't think a menu of eggs and grilled cheese would bring in the people. Micah makes hamburgers, but they are just decent, not anything near something you would sell.”

  Maddock blinked and his lower lip curled down in sharp disapproval, almost like he was preparing to snarl. He clearly didn't expect his server to be rambling on and on about their lack of a cook. Dex snapped his teeth shut.

  “Sorry. Uhm, drinks?” He just needed to get their order and get the hell away, figure out what was going on because if what he thought was going on was actually going on…he was screwed. The longer he stood there, the more he decided the female's scent was on Maddock. Yeah, totally screwed.

  “I guess it's too much to hope for a wine list,” the woman said with a condescending laugh. She reached over and tapped the back of Maddock’s hand as if he had to join the joke. She sat back, never giving Dex a chance to tell her to
go fuck herself. “I'll have a red wine. Cab if you have it.”

  “We have a lovely Cabernet.” Well, it was decent. At least that's what Reese said. Dex wasn't a wine drinker. He liked his liquor like he liked his men—strong and with a twist.

  “I'll have a Guinness,” Maddock said absently.

  “Oh, we don't have Guinness. We're a Welsh pub.”

  Maddock glanced up and then shook his head as if he didn’t care. “So give me something Welsh.”

  “Right, one Welsh beer, coming up.”

  Before he'd even walked away, Maddock started tapping on his phone’s screen.

  Dex forced a smile on his lips and then had to force his legs to walk away. His wolf really wanted to stay and breathe in the guy's scent.

  Oh, this is bad.

  Dex slapped the tray onto the bar. It made a satisfying “crack,” but his Alpha wolf didn’t even flinch. Instead, long moments later, Micah raised his eyes and lifted his brows in silent question.

  “I need your help.” Those brows went a fraction of an inch higher but Micah didn’t speak. “You see the guy at the table?”

  “The prick who’s surgically attached to his phone?” Reese asked.

  It shouldn’t have surprised Dex that Reese had noticed the guy or recognized he was on his phone. This was Reese after all.

  Four months ago when they’d been considering the option of purchasing this pub, Reese had announced that he could tend bar. A blind bartender. Who would have thought?

  Micah managed the place. Rhian and Dex were the servers. The place was small, only about fifteen tables so they’d only needed to hire a little extra help.

  “Yes,” Dex finally answered, keeping his eyes trained on Micah. He needed help and dammit, Micah was going to do it.

  “Is he giving you a problem?” Micah sat up a little straighter. He still wasn’t willing to call them a pack and wouldn’t admit he was their Alpha, but he wouldn’t let anyone mess with them.

  “No.”

  “Refusing to pay his bill?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t like his drink?”

  Dex could hear the tension creeping into Micah’s voice.

  “No, it’s personal.”

  Micah sank back down on his barstool. “Then why ask me?”

  “You’re my Alpha. It’s your job to help with problems.”

  “I’m not your Alpha. I’m your boss, so if it’s not work-related, I don’t care.”

  “What’s the problem, baby?” Rhian asked, stepping in from the office. The little pooch of her stomach barely showed that she was pregnant. Still, he didn’t like that she was always on her feet. He tipped his head toward the couple. The woman seemed engrossed in her phone. Maddock was as well, tapping the screen, neither acknowledging the other.

  So not what he was looking for in a man. Oh, he liked the gorgeous, muscular shape and definitely could fall in love with those ice blue eyes, but Dex wanted a mate who would make him the center of his world. This guy looked all business. Even when the woman talked to him, he kept his eyes on his phone.

  He sighed. “I think he’s my mate.”

  His pack mates stared at him. Even Micah cocked his head.

  “That’s good, right?” Rhian asked. “Don’t some wolves search forever and never find their mate?”

  “I guess, but as Reese pointed out, the guy’s been on his phone, texting or tweeting or whatever since he walked in, ignoring the woman across from him…” He winced. “Who I’m pretty sure, he’s sleeping with.”

  “Ouch.”

  Reese placed a round of drinks on his tray. They were meant for the table on the opposite side of the room. As much as Dex wanted to stay and discuss the possibility that tall, dark and gorgeous was his mate, he had work to do. Sighing again, he picked up his tray and headed to the table. He dropped off the drinks, took two more drink orders as the tables filled, wiped down a couple of tables that didn’t really need it and headed back to the bar.

  Micah had put away his work and was currently sipping a whiskey, his eyes monitoring the bar. They didn't need a bouncer…not with an Alpha werewolf sitting guard over the room.

  Dex gave the orders to Reese. The Beta wolf nodded and started grabbing bottles. The only concession to his lack of sight was a marking on bottles that he couldn’t recognize by touch—and no one put a bottle in the wrong place. The combinations that resulted weren’t pleasant.

  “I went by your mate's table,” Reese said in a low voice. “We were both right.”

  “About?”

  “He is a bit of a prick and he’s definitely sleeping with that woman.”

  “How is that possible? How can my mate not be gay?” Tales of lone wolves left to wander the Earth in solitude crushed his heart. He'd finally found the one person who could complete him, and the man didn't want him. He’d never heard of a mated pair who didn’t fuck like bunny rabbits.

  “One, you’ve only just met him,” Micah said, getting involved in the conversation for the first time. “You can’t be sure he’s your mate.”

  “I’m pretty sure he is.” There had been no mistaking the sensation, the immediate desire to lick and touch and cuddle up against all those luscious muscles. He’d always had a thing for big, strong guys, but this was different. This went soul deep.

  “Even if he is, he’s not the only one.”

  “What?” His parents had always told him that wolves had one mate for life. “But there is just one mate—”

  Micah shook his head. “Once you’ve chosen them, you get only one, but can you imagine matching with only one other person in the world? The odds of finding one's mate would be astronomical. There’s nothing mystical about this. Your wolf and his are compatible, but there are others out there.” He tossed back his whiskey and the corners of his eyes tightened down.

  “But—”

  “If you want this guy, go after him. If you can tell right now that he’s an asshole, stay away from him. The more you're around a possible mate, the more the wolf will imprint on him. That happens and you’ll never be able to break the tie.”

  Dex sank down on one hip and considered this new information. This wasn’t his “one” mate. There might be others. He bit down on his lower lip. There would be others. But he kind of wanted this one. The guy was big and handsome and just looked like a sundae on a hot summer day. Damn, he could practically feel him on his tongue now.

  Reese placed a glass of red wine and a pint of black beer on Dex’s tray. He stared at the drinks—Maddock’s order. He’d deliver the drinks and get another sniff at his delicious mate.

  “He is beautiful, though,” Dex said with the wistful tone.

  The right side Micah’s mouth kicked up in a wicked smile. “If you’re that hard up for a fuck, I’m available.”

  Wouldn’t be the first time, Dex thought. He and Micah didn’t fuck often, but occasionally, one of them needed and the other was close by.

  Now that he’d met his mate, it seemed like cheating.

  But he didn’t want to offend Micah. “Well, maybe I’ll take you up on the offer.”

  “Excuse me—” The chilled voice dripped with annoyance.

  Dex gasped and spun toward the sound, the tray gripped between his fingers. The wine and beer glasses teetered for a breathless second before they both tipped.

  The world slowed to the speed of a football replay and Dex could only watch it happen. Liquid tumbled from the glasses, red and black splattering across the man's crisp white shirt and deep gray suit jacket.

  “Oh fuck. I’m so sorry.” Dex grabbed a rag and started daubing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t believe I did that.”

  He continued to babble, his apologies liberally interspersed with swear words. His mind tapped on his shoulder, warning him to look up, that he needed to pay attention to his surroundings, but Dex ignored the mental prompt. He didn’t want to see who he’d thrown wine on because he was sure the fates had to be fucking with him.

  Strong, smo
oth fingers grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.

  “It’s fine,” the man snapped. The biting tone made Dex’s cock rock hard.

  Finally, he lifted his head and met the eyes of his mate. The wolf inside him went mad, clawing at Dex’s spirit to let him free, to let him have his mate. Dex shook his head and tried to focus, ensuring his human side stayed in control.

  Cold blue eyes stared back at him and Dex shivered. His mate was a hard man. Maybe Micah was right and he should let this one go, search for another.

  But then he glanced down, ostensibly to see the damage he’d caused, but his gaze drifted below his mate’s belt and there was the slightest hint of a bulge. His mate had to be feeling the same connection, right? And truly, who could have a hard-on when someone just threw wine all over you?

  Dex looked up. His mate’s lips thinned out into a grimace.

  “I was going to ask where the restroom is.” He held out his arms to show the red and black alcohol that drenched what had to be an expensive suit. “It appears I need it even more now.”

  “Uh, just down that hall.”

  The man started to walk away and Dex’s wolf urged him to follow. He took a step after his mate. Micah’s hand caught his arm, tugging him back.

  “I don’t need a sexual harassment lawsuit.”

  “I wasn’t going to attack him or anything.” Maybe get down on my knees and beg to suck his cock.

  And what guy wouldn’t appreciate that?

  Micah tilted his head down and glared out the top of his eyes.

  “You’re right.” He’d already dumped beer and wine on the guy. Propositioning him would probably get his ass kicked. Though the guy looked more likely to sue than fight. He seemed like that kind of guy. Didn’t want to get his hands dirty.

  So not what he dreamed about when he thought of his mate, Dex reminded himself. He imagined strength and power, just a little bit of danger. Someone who could dominate him, take him like a ravished romance novel heroine.

  He looked at Micah. Someone like him but who didn’t cling to the lone wolf image like it was a lifeline.