“Oh, no, you wouldn’t.” Surprisingly, Angeline’s laugh felt like it sounded. Lighthearted and genuine. “Tanner was tone deaf. I sound like a banshee being strangled by a troll.”
“Didn’t know they existed.” Lincoln laughed.
“According to Connor, they do. He once suggested that my vocal cords be removed to avoid attracting the murderous creatures to our treehouse.”
Deep peals of laughter caused Lincoln’s shoulders to shake.
“It’s not that funny.” Angeline rested her arms on the table.
“Easy, Angel.” Eyes twinkling and mouth broadened with a generous smile, Lincoln reached over and patted her arm. “No one is perfect, but you are close enough for me.”
All the irritation building inside her immediately turned warm and gooey, and a dopey smile took control of her mouth.
“What’s your imperfection? And don’t say your missing leg, because that is definitely not one.”
Lincoln’s expression blanked, and he sat back in the seat.
“Come on. Confession is good for the soul.”
“I don’t like spiders,” he finally said.
“That’s not a deep, dark secret. You can do better.”
“No,” he said, growing visibly uncomfortable. “It really is spiders.” Eyes wide and rounded, Lincoln stared at her without blinking, and his mouth folded down into a flat curve so tight that the edges of his lips turned white.
She lowered her voice. “You’re really afraid of spiders?”
He shook off a hard shiver and wiped his palm over his face. “Can’t stand them.”
The thought of a big bad Dogman afraid of a little bitty arachnid was comical, but Angeline didn’t dare laugh. Lincoln had shared a deeply personal tidbit and she would not make him regret it.
“What happened?” Most phobias, she figured, were rooted in bad experiences.
“I had just learned to shift and my parents took me to the woods for my first run. They were so proud of me pouncing and tracking by pure instinct until a Texas brown tarantula dropped on me. I felt it scurrying through my fur.” Lincoln rolled his shoulders. “I thought it would kill me. I howled and cried and my parents thought I was a coward for panicking over a spider.
Angeline’s heart tweaked for him. Wahyas were fairly young when they developed the ability to shift.
“So, to teach me to be a brave wolf, they locked me in my room at night with a tarantula. Oh, and they took out the light bulb so I wouldn’t sleep with the light on. Instead, I used my wolfan vision to watch it. I didn’t sleep for three nights, sitting in the middle of the bed, worried the spider would bite me.”
“What happened on the fourth night?”
“I spent it in the hospital. I had stopped eating and drinking because I couldn’t stop worrying about that damn spider getting on me. I became dehydrated and delirious from sleep deprivation. To make matters worse, I refused to go home until our pack Alpha swore he’d personally check my room and tell my parents not to bring any more spiders into the house.”
“Lincoln.” Angeline rubbed her chest bone to loosen the tightness. “What your parents did was wrong on so many levels.”
He let out a long breath. “They actually thought it would help.”
Bobbie Sue stopped at the table and unloaded a tray of food. “Let me know if you need anything,” she said, then hurried back to the kitchen.
“After that story, are you sure all that food will settle well in your stomach?” Angeline pointed at the double serving of eggs, pancakes, grits, biscuits with sausage gravy, ham and bacon.
Lincoln glanced around the restaurant. “No spiders, so I’m good.”
Head down, face set in firm determination, he dug into his meal with gusto.
Angeline smiled, cutting into her French toast stuffed with strawberry cream cheese. Lincoln had trusted her with a deeply personal secret simply because she had asked. At the very least, she needed to reciprocate.
“The National Music Awards are on tomorrow night.” She paused. “Interested in watching them with me?”
If he comes, I’ll tell him. If he doesn’t, I won’t.
Lincoln’s unreadable gaze lifted to hers and he took his time chewing the food in his mouth.
A sudden, large dose of anxiety caused her stomach to plunge. “Um, I just remembered that I have something else to do. I’ll set the DVR and watch it later.”
“I’ll be home if you change your mind.”
She wouldn’t. If her family couldn’t see the value in her musical talent, how could a hot-bloodied, near feral Dogman?
Chapter 18
“What’s up with the flowers, Slick?” Angeline stepped back, welcoming Tristan inside the apartment. “You usually show up with sweets.”
She closed the door before the cold air leeched the heat from the living room.
“The National Music Awards are tomorrow night.” Tristan handed her the lovely rainbow carnation arrangement. “Congratulations on your nominations.”
“Thanks, but you usually don’t give me flowers for the occasion.” Since he had, Angeline appreciated that they came in a vase because she didn’t own one.
She placed them on the kitchen counter. The sweet, floral scent filled the apartment and the bright colors balanced the muted shades of the decor.
“Because I’m usually celebrating with you on the night of the ceremony, but I can’t this time.” Tristan’s apologetic expression tugged at Angeline’s heart.
“I completely understand. You have a mate, and she’s going to pop out your baby any day now.” Angeline gave him a tight, friendly hug. “Me and you, we’re good.”
Looking like some of the weight on his shoulders had lifted, Tristan sat in the sofa chair. “Writing a new song?” He tipped his head at the scatter of papers on the coffee table.
“Yeah.” Moving aside the guitar, she sat on the couch. “It’s different from what I normally write.”
“Meaning, it’s about finding love instead of losing it?”
Angeline nodded. “Definitely not my bread-and-butter market, but it’s exhausting to keep revisiting the emotions of the breakup with Tanner and his death.”
“You’ve found new inspiration. Is it Lincoln?” Tristan’s brow dipped over his woried dark brown eyes.
She could always depend on him to have her back.
Angeline drew her socked feet beneath her legs. “I started experimenting with a new style before Lincoln came to town. But my muse has been more cooperative lately.”
“He hasn’t mentioned extending the sublet beyond the end of the month,” Tristan said. “Do you think he’ll stay?”
“He has some things to take care of at the Dogman headquarters but said he’ll come back when his retirement paperwork is processed.” She paused, mentally and physically taking a steadying breath. “Lincoln and I sense the mate-bond.” There, she’d said it. With much more conviction than she’d practiced.
Fingers laced, Tristan leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“Neither do I.” Angeline’s heart smiled at her friend. “We aren’t jumping into a mateship. I need time to really trust him and Lincoln needs time to process how dramatically his life is changing.”
“That’s smart.” Tristan relaxed in the chair. “With the accidental claiming, Nel and I didn’t have the getting-to-know-each-other period before beginning a mateship.”
“She loves you, Tristan. And I know you love her.”
“I do.” His eyelids pressed closed and his jaw tightened. “Once the baby comes, we’ll have very little time for just us.”
“Make the time,” Angeline said. “When you and Nel need a few hours, a night or a weekend alone, call me. Aunt Ange will always be happy to babysit her.” She studied Tristan’s neutral expressio
n. “Or him.” Still nothing.
“Oh, come on.” She tossed a pillow at Tristan. “Are you actually going to make me wait until Nel delivers to find out?”
“We don’t know, either.” Tristan grinned. “Nel and I didn’t have a chance to explore the mysteries of each other before she became pregnant. So we wanted to share this one. It’s been so much fun, guessing and planning for a baby, not a gender. We don’t regret one moment of not knowing.”
“That’s really sweet.” Tears stung Angeline’s eyes. “You’re going to be a great dad.”
“I hope so.” Worry dimmed the joy in Tristan’s expression. “I didn’t have the best role model.”
“Lead with your heart, like you always have, and you’ll be getting those World’s Greatest Dad gifts before you know it.”
“Thanks.” A charming grin erased the tension in Tristan’s face. “In case I’ve never mentioned it, I’m glad we’re friends. You helped me through some rough times.”
“That river runs both ways.” Angeline offered a smile. “I know things have changed between us and will continue to change. We’ll adapt. We always do.”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed at her. “You’re not going to turn this into a song, are you?”
She answered by slinging another pillow at him, which he easily caught.
“I’m proud of you,” Tristan said, turning serious. “Of your talent, your success. And I really hope your songs win tomorrow night.” He gave her the “but” face. “I wish you wouldn’t hide it from your father. Give him a chance to be as proud of you as I am.”
Angeline shook her head. “Someday, maybe. Tomorrow is way too soon.”
“So you’re gonna hole up in here and watch the ceremony all alone?”
“I invited Lincoln.”
“Have you told him your top-secret identity?”
“I’m not a spy,” she laughed. “I’m a songwriter.”
“With how many awards?”
A closet full.
And a bank account that didn’t need padding from a waitressing job at her uncle’s restaurant.
Tristan shook his head. “I get why you don’t want to tell your dad, but you shouldn’t keep who you really are a secret from Lincoln, especially if a mate-bond is involved.”
“I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”
“You said the same about your dad. How long has it been?”
Nearly fifteen years. And the way things were going, it could be fifteen more before she felt ready to endure his censure.
“It’ll be different with Lincoln.” She wanted to share her music with him. And when the time felt right, she would.
* * *
“Hey, Angel.” The sudden rush of excitement that filled Lincoln upon opening the door tanked. “What’s wrong?”
Tight-lipped and clenching her teeth, Angeline stood rigid in the doorway. Her laser-intense gaze bore straight through him.
“Damien!” Anger and fear strained her voice.
Lincoln glanced over his shoulder at the young man seated at the kitchen bar, a homemade beef empanada paused halfway between his plate and mouth.
“You bastard!” Balling her hands, Angeline stormed past Lincoln.
“Marquez? What did you do?”
“I need a little context.” Slowly lowering his hand, Damien laid the empanada on his plate. His spine stiffened and his demeanor slipped from relaxed to ready.
“Zach is just a kid!” Shaking, Angeline stood in front of Damien.
“Ah.” A cocky smile slid mockingly into place. Damien looked Angeline up and down. “I guess he signed the contract.”
“What’s going on?” Edging close behind Angeline, Lincoln slipped his hands around her waist, hoping his nearness would calm her distress.
She pointed her index finger an inch from Damien’s nose. “He bullied Zach into signing his life away to the Program.”
Damn!
When Lincoln had talked to Angeline’s cousin last night after leaving the bar, Zach had already made up his mind to join the Program but he was worried about his family. Lincoln briefly spoke about the personal sacrifices the Program required and asked him to wait until after his college graduation before completing the paperwork. His family needed the time to prepare for the inevitable.
Angeline pushed away from Lincoln. The anger twisting her lovely face immediately morphed into a look of betrayal.
“You knew he planned to do this?” Angeline’s furious, frightened voice shrieked in Lincoln’s mind.
Suddenly the situation had turned from bad to worse. If she could sense his thoughts and he could hear hers, then a mate-bond was forming faster than expected.
He’d be more excited about the ethereal connection syncing them, body and mind, heart and soul, if he wasn’t going back on active duty soon. But the distraction of sensing her turbulent emotions while trying to extract Dayax could get them killed.
“Sweetheart, wait!” He reached for her hand to stop her from storming off.
“I’m not your sweetheart,” she hissed, jerking free.
The slamming door as she left rattled Lincoln to the very core of his soul.
“I’m beginning to sense that your angel really doesn’t care for Dogmen.” Damien snorted. “She does know that you are one, or did you keep that a secret, too?”
Lincoln ignored the question. “What, exactly, did you say to Zach?”
“Dogmen are born knowing their path. There is no hem-hawing.” Damien resumed eating. “I’m surprised, actually. I didn’t think he had the balls to commit.”
Swallowing a mouthful of curses, Lincoln dug the cell phone from his pocket.
“Lincoln!” Zach cheerfully answered the call. “Have you heard the news?”
“Please tell me that you haven’t emailed the docs to the recruiter.”
“Not yet. I promised my folks that I would have Brice read over the contract.”
“Smart idea.” Lincoln breathed easier. “If you don’t mind, I would like to be there, too.”
“You’re still on my side, right? I have enough people against me right now.”
“Yeah, Zach. I’m on your side,” Lincoln said. “When are you meeting with Brice?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. Hey, I’m celebrating with some friends tonight. Wanna come?”
“Not this time.” Lincoln needed to do some damage control with Angeline. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Disconnecting the call, he turned to Damien, who had resumed eating. “You should’ve stayed out of this mess.”
Damien gave a halfhearted shrugged. “Bunch of hillbillies. I don’t know why everyone is upset. Becoming a Dogman is an honor and privilege.”
“For us,” Lincoln snarled. “Not for Zach’s family, who he will have to turn his back on once he earns his tags.”
“Either they support him or they don’t. Either way, his life. His choice.”
“It’s not that simple.” Not for close-knit families or their packs. They needed time to process, even time to grieve, because when the time came for Zach to say goodbye, in all likelihood, it would be the last time they’d see him.
Lincoln packed the food he’d made in plastic containers and headed to the door. “Whatever you do tonight, don’t make this situation worse.”
Damien raised his drink. “No problema.”
Reaching Angeline’s apartment Lincoln didn’t hesitate. He walked in without knocking. “I brought supper. Made it myself.”
“I’m not hungry.” She stood, staring through the balcony sliders, her arms wrapped around her middle. “I don’t want you here.”
If that were true, she would’ve locked the door.
He left the food on the kitchen counter and walked to her. Standing close, but not quite touching, he leaned over her shoulder and waited.
&nbs
p; It wasn’t a long one.
“I’ve known Zach his entire life. I changed his poopy diapers, taught him to throw a snowball and helped him with homework. I even let him borrow my car for prom.” Her voice broke. “I don’t want him to be scarred or maimed. And I don’t want him to die, Lincoln.”
Cupping Angeline’s arms, Lincoln turned her around and wrapped her in a giant hug. She trembled against him, and he felt the hot sting of her tears splash against his heart even though his shirt absorbed the actual moisture.
“Aunt Miriam and Uncle Jimmy are devastated, and they haven’t told Lucy. Roslyn, Sierra and the boys will be heartbroken. Zach is like a brother to them, too.”
“Zach is lucky to have so many people who love him.” Lincoln swallowed, trying to dislodge the stubborn lump in his throat. “I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you and your family, but it’s hard on Zach, too. Can you imagine how scared and lonely it is for him to make this decision, knowing everyone he loves is against it?”
“I can, actually.”
“What?” Lincoln hooked his finger beneath Angeline’s chin and tipped up her face.
“We aren’t talking about my decisions right now. This is about Zach.” Emotion contorted her face. “How could you be a party to convincing him when...?”
“When what?”
“Tanner died.” Turbulent emotions darkened Angeline’s eyes. “I don’t want anything to happen to Zach.”
Lincoln cradled Angeline’s face, gently brushing away straggling tears from her cheeks. “Zach’s decision isn’t about you, Angel. It’s about him.”
“No one should have to go through what I did.”
“If anything happens to Zach, your family will be there for each other. Just like they were when you lost Tanner.”
Angeline slowly shook her head. “They never knew about him.”
“Why?”
“His rejection nearly broke me. My father raised us to be strong, to not be vulnerable. How could I tell him how weak I was?”
“You aren’t weak, Angel.” Lincoln saw in her an inner strength that had called to him, comforted him and saved him from the brink too many times to count.
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