by J. L. Wilder
These days, it felt like almost everyone had forgotten that it was supposed to be Brady in that role. That he had been the one who had been groomed for leadership, prepared for the day he would take over the den. It had always been the plan.
He wandered back up to his room, brooding as he went.
He was no fool. He knew that the den leadership had been right in their decision to keep control out of his hands while he’d been drinking. He did feel they could have made a better choice than Steve to take over leadership, but that was neither here nor there.
But it was supposed to be a temporary thing. That was what everyone had said at the time. It was just until Brady matured. Just until he kicked the habit. He had always intended to kick the habit one day.
Eventually.
After Brady had crashed his motorcycle into the concrete median when he’d been driving home from the bar one night, he had awoken in the hospital, his face swollen and scarred and with fourteen stitches across his cheek. A judge had offered him a choice between jail time or rehab, and though Brady had been disdainful of the idea of going to rehab, it had really been no choice at all.
He had hated it at first—spending his days locked up with people who weren’t shifters, who knew nothing of shifter culture. It had been impossible to open up and be himself, and Brady had found it maddening that the counselors who ran the organization seemed to require that of him. How could he participate in their little healing process if he couldn’t tell them the truth about what he was?
But little by little, he came to realize that the truth about what he was, his shifter nature, had nothing to do with his drinking.
He had started drinking, in his youth, because it was fun and because it was what everyone was doing. But he had continued out of a fear of the future, of the day when he would be required to lead, and out of a need to replace his self-doubt with confidence.
Those were feelings he could describe without talking about his second nature as a bear or the social dynamics of the den. He did so, and little by little, things got better. He got better.
He hadn’t expected to just be handed the role of alpha when he returned home from rehab, of course. He had known there would be a period of transition. Perhaps he and Steve would lead together for a few years to help ease the rest of the den into the new authority. There wasn’t a lot of precedent for this sort of thing.
But no one had mentioned a transition of power at all.
Eventually, he had summoned his courage and asked Steve about it.
Steve had laughed at him. “You had your chance at being alpha,” he’d said. “A far better chance than any of the rest of us ever got. And you blew it. I’m in charge now, and if you want to take it from me, you can fight me for it.”
A fight was the last thing Brady wanted. Who knew whether he was any good at fighting or not? He had never been in a fight while sober.
So he had sat back, cooled his heels, and hoped that something would change.
This conference was supposed to be an opportunity. This was where he was going to show the entire den that he was capable of leadership—more capable than Steve—and that they should return their loyalty to him. But it hadn’t happened.
He stopped where he stood. He hadn’t reached his room yet, but he was suddenly second-guessing his decision to go there at all.
What’s the point? he wondered. If I’m not going to get back the things my drinking cost me, why did I stop drinking in the first place?
That was a dangerous thought, and he knew it.
I should go inside and take a shower. Try to calm down. Forget about this stuff for tonight.
Instead, he found his feet taking him back toward the stairs that led to the hotel lobby.
He lingered outside the bar, glancing in. There was Steve, with Brick and Edgar on either side of him and all of them with drinks in their hands. He could see other members of their den, too, clustered around the alpha and his two top men, jockeying for position, for favor.
I’ll be damned if I’m going to go over there and kiss his ass.
He went to the other side of the bar instead, where the crowd would hide him from the members of his den. If he was going to drink here tonight, he would have to try not to be seen. He knew what would happen if Steve realized what he was doing.
I would never hear the end of it. It would be the best day of Steve’s life. They’d have me back in that rehab so fast...
Which was ridiculous. He wasn’t going to go on a bender. He was thinking about having one drink, for fuck’s sake. One drink never killed anybody.
He took a seat. The bartender working this side of the room was busy, and though he tried to catch the man’s eye, he went unnoticed.
It’s fine. He’ll see me eventually.
He looked around, trying to make certain that Steve and the others couldn’t see him from where they were sitting. He couldn’t see them anymore, so he was probably safe.
“Is this seat taken?”
He turned. A woman was standing beside him, her hand on the back of the barstool next to his.
She was beautiful. Though she was probably about his own age, her face was clear and unlined and looked as though it could have belonged to someone much younger. Only a few lines around her eyes gave her away—that, and the utter exhaustion in her expression.
She looks like she’s seen some shit.
He realized she was still waiting for an answer to her question. “No,” he said. “That seat isn’t taken.
She nodded and sank into it gratefully.
Immediately, the bartender arrived, summoned by the presence of an attractive woman like a moth to a flame. “What can I get you?” he asked.
“Martini,” she said.
“And you, sir?” the bartender asked Brady.
“Just water,” Brady said.
He felt, suddenly, as though it might be a good idea to stay sober tonight after all.
Chapter Three
EVELYN
Evelyn’s martini arrived, and she gulped down half of it in a single swallow.
“Whoa,” said the man next to her. “Take it easy there.”
She shot him a look. “Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?” She had gotten more than enough of that from Marty, and leaving him ought to mean that she never had to deal with being pushed around like that again.
The man raised both hands in a show of surrender. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. Drink all you want.”
The bartender set a glass of water in front of him with more force than was really necessary. “Anything else for you, sir?”
There was something bitter, almost accusatory, in the bartender’s tone, as if he didn’t appreciate having to waste his time bringing water to a customer.
“That’s all for me,” the man said. “Thanks.”
The bartender huffed and walked away.
Though Evelyn hadn’t come to the hotel bar to make friends—though she wasn’t interested in any friends—she couldn’t hold back a laugh. “He is not happy with you.”
“Nope,” the man agreed. “And it’s too bad because I was planning on leaving a tip even though my drink didn’t cost any money. It’s just the courteous thing to do. But I don’t know that I want to, after that little performance.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” Evelyn said. “People really do think they can do whatever they want and that everyone around them will just put up with it.” That was certainly what Marty had thought—and to be fair, Evelyn had put up with it for twenty years, so what was he supposed to think?
The man was eyeing her speculatively. “Are you here for the conference?” he asked.
“Conference?” Evelyn didn’t know about any conference. She’d gotten a hotel for her first night back in Chicago because she was nervous about facing her family tomorrow.
The man looked as if he thought perhaps he’d said too much. “Oh,” he said. “Never mind. I guess you’r
e here for something else.”
“Just passing through.” She didn’t want to go into the whole sordid story with a stranger. “You’re here on business?”
“Something like that,” he said.
“What is it you do?”
“Networking,” he said vaguely.
“You’re not networking right now,” she pointed out.
The man let out a surprised laugh. “No,” he agreed. “Right now, I’m off duty.”
“So you came to drink water at the bar,” she said.
He shrugged. “Truth be told, I’m avoiding my boss,” he said. “He’s given me kind of a hard time all day.”
“Bosses can be like that,” she said sympathetically. “I just left a job with a bitchy boss.”
“Really?”
“Actually, I should probably give them a call tomorrow and let them know I won’t be back to work,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “You quit without telling them? How bad was that boss?”
“Just regular bad,” she said. “I was a waitress, and my boss was the kind of guy who wanted all the waitresses in short shorts and low-cut tops all the time. And I’m not saying dressing up like that is never fun, but when you’re forty and you’re just trying to earn a living wage...it’s a lot to put up with.”
“I can imagine,” the man said sympathetically. “So you decided to quit?”
“Well, actually, I left town for other reasons.” She was surprised to find herself getting into this when she hadn’t meant to discuss it with him. She had come to the bar to forget the life she’d left behind in Las Vegas, not to dwell on it.
But there was something about this man that was so easy to talk to. Evelyn felt, for the first time in a long time, as though discussing her problems might come naturally.
Evidently, he was just as eager to hear about them as she was to talk. “What were those?” he asked.
“What were what?”
“Your reasons for leaving town,” he prodded.
“Oh,” she said. “My marriage...ended.” Opening up was one thing, but she definitely wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened between herself and Marty last night, how his constant manipulation and meanness had finally turned violent, as she had always feared it might.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the man said.
Evelyn shrugged. “It’s all right,” she said. “It’s weird to be unattached. I was married for twenty years. But it was a long time coming, and it was the right decision.”
He nodded. “So what’s next for you?”
“I’m headed back to my parents’ house, at least in the short term,” she said.
“Will that be awkward? I’d probably be a little uncomfortable if I had to go back and live with my parents again,” he said.
She nodded. “We’re not close. They really disapproved of my husband. So it’s kind of a toss-up as to whether they’ll still be angry with me for marrying him in the first place or just glad that he’s out of the picture. I’m hoping it’s the latter.”
“And that’s why you’re putting away the gin,” he said.
She laughed again. “I guess,” she agreed. “But you’re right, I should take it easy. It’s going to be hard enough to face my parents tomorrow without being hungover on top of everything else.”
“You’ll be seeing them tomorrow?”
She nodded. “They live in Chicago. I could have gone there tonight, but...I just needed a night to myself to regroup and get my head together. To plan what I’m going to say to them. I know they’re not very happy with me.”
“Do they know you’re back in town?” he asked.
Evelyn shook her head. “I haven’t had the courage to call them and tell them,” she admitted.
Then she chuckled. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” she said. “I’m sure it’s more than you wanted to know.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger,” he said. “You can consider me practice for talking to your parents tomorrow.”
“This conversation is definitely easier than that one will be.” She took another sip of her martini, a smaller one this time. “But we’ve been so focused on me. Tell me about this convention of yours.”
“Hmm?”
“You said you were here for a convention,” she reminded him. “What’s it all about?”
“Oh,” he said. “It’s just an opportunity to meet up with others in my field. Share ideas, get to know people. That sort of thing.”
“How’s it going?” she asked.
“Actually, not great,” he admitted. “I was hoping to make a good impression on my boss, but I’m beginning to think he’ll never see me in a positive light.”
“That must be frustrating.”
“It is,” he agreed. “I’ve been passed over a few times now for a promotion I was hoping to get, and I’m starting to worry that I’ve missed my opportunity completely.” He made a face. “The truth is, I came down here to the bar to drown my sorrows, and that’s probably what I would be doing right now if I hadn’t met you.”
“I’m glad you met me, then,” she said.
“Me too,” he said. “I won’t do myself any favors by being hungover tomorrow either. I suppose there’s always a chance that tomorrow will be the day I finally impress my boss.”
“That’s the spirit,” Evelyn said. “It could happen. And you seem really passionate about what you’re doing, so I’m sure that will make a difference.”
He eyed her speculatively. “You said your parents are from Chicago, right?”
“That’s right,” she said. “They’ve both lived here all their lives.”
“Is it possible I know you?” he asked. “You look sort of familiar.”
“No, you couldn’t possibly,” she said. “I haven’t been home in years. I’ve been living out in Las Vegas with my husband.”
“Oh,” he said. “That’s odd. There really is something very familiar about you.”
“I suppose I have one of those faces,” Evelyn said.
But she didn’t, really. She knew she didn’t. She had large eyes that made her stand out, made her recognizable. People who had seen her just one time tended to remember her. Evelyn didn’t think of herself as especially pretty, but she did have a memorable face.
But he sounded like he was going through a lot at the moment, and she didn’t blame him for his confusion. She felt the same way. Her world had been upended in the last forty-eight hours. If Marty himself had walked into the hotel bar right now, she probably wouldn’t have recognized him.
The thought gave her a chill. But Marty won’t come here, she reassured herself. There was no way he could even know that she had left Las Vegas. She had paid for her plane ticket in cash, and she hadn’t used the credit card once since leaving home.
Her cash reserves were running low, though. She would have to hope that her parents would be willing to put her up long enough for her to find a job.
She finished her martini and set the glass down. “What do you have planned for the rest of the night?” she asked the man sitting next to her. “Do you need to reconnect with your colleagues?”
“Not necessarily,” he said. “Can I buy you another drink?”
“I probably shouldn’t have any more,” she said. “But I’d love to stay and talk for a while. If I go up to my room, I’m just going to start brooding. It’s really nice to have someone take me out of my own thoughts.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” he said with a smile.
They stayed at the bar for another hour, swapping stories. Evelyn spent the time stealing glances at him. Though she hadn’t fully appreciated it when she’d first taken this seat, he was very good looking. His hair was thick and dark, and it fell in a wave across his forehead. A faded scar ran from the outer corner of his right eye to his chin. Though he was dressed in a button-down shirt, she could see the edge of a tattoo on his wrist.
She reached out, emboldened by t
he gin she’d had to drink, and rested two fingers on the ink. “What is this?” she asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said. “I got it when I was young.”
“Can I see?”
He shrugged and pushed his sleeve up a bit, revealing an intricate pattern of flames licking their way up his forearm.
“Impressive,” she said.
He shrugged. “I thought so once,” he said. “Now, I wish I had chosen something more meaningful. I was just trying to look like a badass.”
Evelyn realized that her hand was still on his arm, her thumb moving slowly across the plane of his skin. He seemed to realize it at the same time. His eyes widened, and she thought for a moment that he was going to pull away from her, but he didn’t.
“On the other hand,” he said quietly, “you seem to like playing with fire.”
“I’m not opposed to it,” Evelyn said, looking him in the eye. “On occasion.”
Something seemed to pass between them then, something powerful and electric. Though almost no words on the subject had been spoken, Evelyn felt suddenly sure that the two of them were on the same page.
He wants me just as badly as I want him.
She felt short of breath, suddenly, as if she had run a sprint. She hadn’t been with anybody new in so long, and sex with Marty had stopped being about pleasure and started being about keeping him happy a long time ago.
But I’m not his anymore. I can do whatever I want now.
It was hard to picture herself having a one-night stand with a stranger. But it was even harder to imagine walking away from this man right now.
“Do you want to come up to my room?” he asked.
Evelyn didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Four
BRADY
It was startling, amazing, how comfortable it was to be alone with her.
Brady would never have expected it. Though he hadn’t been in a relationship in years, he had never gotten especially comfortable with one-night stands. He enjoyed sex, but he couldn’t seem to relax until after the woman he was with had left the room. Prior to that, he was always concerned with what she was thinking of him, whether he was making a fool of himself, whether he was going to regret the whole thing in the morning.
