Book 2 Not his Werewolf Page 7
Ken slid his hand to the small of her back, his touch a tattoo on her skin. They followed a path that led to a sparkling restaurant sitting on top of the hill. Golden lights trailed from pole to pole along the path then spread onto the gardens and patios. She paused. Private tables were set strategically among the flowers and bushes.
Very romantic. She could picture the multitude of marriage proposals that must have taken place here. Soft music played and people spoke in hushed tones. The scent of shifters was heavy in the air. Not just wolf. She smelled bear and lion.
Ken approached the maître d', who scanned Betty’s tattooed arms with distaste. “Two under Ryota.”
While the maître d' looked at his reservation book, Ken straightened his suit jacket and scrutinized the area.
Ryota? That name sounded familiar. He was the New Port wolf pack alpha.
Ken spun around and dazzled her with a smile. “The rest of the night will be perfect, I promise.”
The maître d' paled. “Sir? Someone is already using that reservation.”
Chapter Ten
Pulse pounding in Ken’s ears, he fisted his hands so not to strangle the maître d'. “Who is using it?” The question rumbled with threat. The alpha had an appointment with Angie at her salon. No one else should have the gall to take the alpha’s reservation but Ken. What pack member had such balls?
Betty ran her hand from his shoulder to his wrist. “We can go somewhere else.” She pried his palm open and took his hand.
“No.” He kept his promises. He wouldn't start their lives together by not being able to provide a decent date for his mate.
Sweat beaded on the maître d’s forehead. “The alpha's parents are using his table.”
Ken recognized the maître d’ as pack, but he wasn’t very high in the hierarchy. The shifter would know Ryota’s parents, Ken’s grandparents. Technically as beta, he could send them away. Hell, if his grandpa found out he hadn’t pushed them out, he’d be angry at the show favoritism. But Ken wasn't that kind of jerk. He loved them. They were pack elders and both treated him as a blood relative. He had a few scars to prove it.
Glancing at Betty, he wasn’t sure what he'd see in her face. Anger at his failed promise?
She retreated from the maître d', tugging Ken gently to follow. If she had shown one drop of disappointment, he was not sure if he could've stopped himself from demanding a table. Oddly, he saw relief in her eyes.
“Come on, I have another idea,” she whispered conspiratorially.
His ears perked. “Like what?” He waved the maître d' away. Remshaws forgotten in a flash of curiosity.
“It's a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.” He’d spent the early part of his life not knowing where he’d come from or where his next home would be. Nothing in his control. Not until he’d met Ryota, who had taught him how to wrench things into Ken’s control.
“Really?” If not for those ridiculous heels, he thought she would have skipped along the path. “I hadn't noticed.” She winked.
He ran his hand down his face. “I deserve that. You have to understand it's part of my nature.”
“You’re a dominant?”
“Stop teasing.” He should be insulted, but was only amused.
“Most dominants pound their chests and growl and snap their teeth.” She paused by the water while the dock attendant ordered their ride.
“Those are dominant wannabes. Those with real power don't need to flaunt it.”
A cool breeze blew over the lake and she visibly shivered.
He took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It took all his willpower not to sweep her in his arms, carry her home, and wrap her in his blankets. Trailing his nose over her hair, he inhaled her scent to calm those deep-set instincts.
Their blankets…
Their bed… He wasn’t alone anymore.
“Stop snorting my hair.” She elbowed him away. “I spent hours in hot rollers this afternoon.”
He brushed the soft curls from the nape of her neck and kissed her behind the ear. “For me?” he whispered.
The attendant approached, brushing past her.
Touching his mate. He growled a warning.
The attendant spun on his heels and returned to the paddle boat. Betty was his. All males would know this.
“He's human, you know. You probably scared five years off his life.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You're flaunting that dominant side. Sure you don’t want to beat on your chest?”
He sighed and followed her to their pathetic ride. He tipped the attendant and made sure Betty was safely seated with her life jacket strapped tight. Now that he’d found her, nothing would take her away.
They paddled over the smooth surface of the lake. Flop, flop, flop of the propeller the only sound.
She set her hand on his knee until he slowed his water-eating pace to a stop. They drifted.
“There.” She stroked his thigh. “Take a deep breath. Everything will be fine.”
He did as she asked and discovered a tight knot twisting around his heart. It wasn't just the date gone wrong. He had Ryota's ultimatum hanging over his head and that fucking eviction notice.
She caressed his cheek and drew his face closer to hers, where she placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. “Do you like hot-dogs?”
“What werewolf doesn't?” That was like asking a kid if they wanted candy.
She scanned the shore. “I come to this park often.”
“I thought you didn’t know Remshaws.”
She rolled her eyes. “I stay on the city side of the lake. But I’ve never seen this park from the water. Where do you think the hummingbird statue is?”
He didn't want to pull his gaze from hers. Content to sit here forever.
Her stomach rumbled with hunger. He heard it clearly.
He jerked at the sound and peddled the boat toward the statue.
“Easy, Ken, where’s the race?”
“You're hungry.”
“I'm not dying of starvation.” Her laugh was a balm to his driven soul. She pointed to a deserted beach. “Park there and we'll walk.”
Ken's eyes gleamed in the moonlight. He peddled the boat with a single-minded determination. Betty sat on her side, feet planted on the floor, not bothering to help. Instead, she added up what she knew of Ken, who wanted to be a permanent part of her life.
There were different degrees of shifters. That was how wolf packs hierarchy worked. She wasn't sure how other types of shifters lived but for them, where you ranked in pack mattered. When she’d first met Ken, she’d thought low level hunter. Hello, he'd been taken down by a hundred pound Trixie. Then he'd awakened. Many hunters added their rank when introducing themselves. She'd been so intimidated at first that she hadn't noticed Ken's omission until now.
Her dad was a low-level hunter. She wove her fingers with Ken's. He had nothing to worry about. She didn't care about his rank or function. She knew he wasn't omega. Male omegas were so rare they were like the rock stars of werewolves. Ken acted like a hunter.
He stopped peddling and they drifted onto the beach, gliding over the sand to a perfect stop. He gave a sharp nod to himself as if he’d planned that move. Before she could ask, he jumped out of the boat and pulled it out of the water without effort.
She glanced over her shoulder at the waterline a few feet from the paddleboat. Yeah, insanely strong. Much stronger than any hunter she’d personally known. Well, except the present alpha of Riverbend Pack. He'd been quite impressive, even in high school. Nobody had been more devastated about her banishment than he, but even when he’d taken over the pack the year she left, he hadn't called her home. Not that she would have gone back to him. Pack law was firm. A shifter changed shape. Period.
Ken offered her his hand. Hers seemed so tiny in comparison as he helped her out.
Her heels sank in the sand and she almost fell back inside the boat if not for him catching her by the waist. His scent enveloped
her, thick and spicy. She could almost taste him. It was comforting and enticing. She kicked off the stupid hooker heels and rose on tiptoe to bury her nose against his throat. Yeah…the smell was nice. She closed her eyes. It soothed the restless feeling inside her. The one she usually had to run or workout heavily to relieve.
He stood so still as she inhaled deeply. His arms trembled as she set her hand on his solid biceps for balance. All that power and strength hidden by a pretty suit. She recalled what he looked like without it. How had she resisted him this morning? Because she was ready to strip him now.
A distant ring of a bicycle bell caught her attention. She dropped back flat onto her feet. Her stomach roared. “Oh good, he's still here.” She left the shoes in the boat and climbed off the beach. Food was close by and she hadn’t eaten since the burger that morning.
Ken remained by the boat, his chest heaving as if catching his breath.
“Are you coming for hot dogs?”
He tossed her a shaky grin. “Sure.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. He jogged the short distance between them and swung his arm over her shoulders. The possessive gesture should have bothered her, but Ken hadn't made her feel like an object he owned. Male shifters tended to be territorial around women. It pissed her off and was the reason why she’d never loved Chris, the now alpha of Riverbend.
The heat from Ken’s body kept her warm and she snuggled closer to his hard form. Moonlight painted their path while a breeze showered them with flower petals from the blooming cherry trees. Every summer the city held a cherry-picking party. All proceeds went to the local food banks. Maybe Ken would come with her this year.
Bells rang again and were louder. They turned a curve in the path and spotted Brad, owner of Hot Dog Heaven, the mobile hot dog stand.
Betty waved.
The owner relaxed his hold on the bike bell. “Hey, hey, Miss Betty.” His eyes went wide and he stood taller. “And, Mr. Birch, sir.” His gaze darted to Betty with such surprise, she checked her dress to make sure her hem wasn’t tucked in her underwear or something.
Ken's hold tightened. “Brad, I wasn’t aware you both knew each other.”
“Just as a customer.” Brad lifted the metal lid of the container holding his famous steamed hot dogs. “The usual then for both of you?”
She rubbed her hands together, ignoring Brad’s weird behavior. “You bet.”
He loaded three hot dogs with everything on them in a cardboard box for Ken then six more in a separate box for her with a lemonade.
Brad held up his hands as Ken offered him cash. “On the house.”
“I can’t accept presents from pack.” Ken stuffed the money in Brad’s shirt pocket.
Huh. She hadn't guessed Brad was a wolf shifter. He was a nice guy. She inhaled her first dog, barely tasting it. Unfortunately, she had inherited her father’s appetite, but thank goodness she also had his metabolism. It meant she was hungry all the time since she couldn’t afford to feed herself like a shifter should. If she was pack, they would never let her go hungry.
She pushed the sore thought away. Tonight was about having fun. Tomorrow she would adult and face her mounting pile of problems.
“Consider it an early mating gift then.” Brad’s grin was so huge she could count all his teeth. “My two best customers coming together. Beta, it would be an honor if you accepted it.” He held out Ken’s money.
Ken sighed. “Accepted.” He returned his wallet to his pocket and gathered his food. “There's a nice place to sit by the fountain.”
Her hot dog sat in her gut like a rock. She followed, her body on autopilot, as she tossed Brad a questioning look.
He rocked back and forth on his feet, hands clasped in front of him, stupid grin aimed in her direction. Obviously thrilled in Ken's choice of a mate. Exactly how had he known that?
But that was not what made her want to puke her delicious processed meat.
She sat next to Ken on the beach facing the park fountain.
He eyed her box. “You already ate one. I'm slightly envious. I wish I could eat that many.”
“I'm too busy to eat so I usually have just one meal a day.” Not to mention she could only afford one and so she purchased the biggest bang for her buck. Six hot dogs at Hot Dog Heaven cost her less than if she made them herself. The walk was a bitch though.
She set her food aside. Appetite gone. “Did he call you beta?”
Chapter Eleven
Betty slapped Ken on the back as he choked on his first bite of hot dog. She offered him the lemonade and he chugged half of it down.
“Is that a problem?” he asked while returning her drink.
“Yes!” She shook her head. “No!” She set the bottle next to her food and picked at the bun. “I don't know.” She’d thought he was a low-level hunter like her father. Second in command of the pack? That was a lot of responsibility. As his mate, some of those would land on her shoulders and she couldn’t even balance her bank account. “You don't act like any betas I know.” She didn't know any though, not personally, but he’d been waiting for her to say something. Not the truth.
He deserved someone better than her. Richer, prettier, smarter.
“How many betas could your old pack have had?” He continued eating.
“Uh… nine before I turned eighteen, since then I don't know. I'm not exactly in the loop.”
“Nine?” He set his hot dog aside. “In eighteen years, that's a lot.”
“Nine or ten years really. Before that I didn't really pay attention to pack politics.” She shrugged. It was a lot though. Riverbend Pack had issues. “The alpha, when I lived with the pack, was difficult to deal with so some betas eventually left to join other packs or were demoted. One even went to alpha a pack way up north.”
“I remember now. Chris Jenkins challenged the old Riverbend alpha. He was only eighteen and he won. Youngest Alpha on record. I hear things are more stable now.”
“I guess. I was eighteen, too, when Chris took over but I was already banished.”
Ken glanced at her uneaten dinner then wove their fingers together. “Let's talk about other things besides pack.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Would you like to meet my dogs?”
Her heart fluttered and she sat straighter. “You don't think it's too soon? I mean, we just met this morning.”
The twinkle in his amber eyes sent a shiver down her spine. “You showed me yours, let me show you mine.”
“Oh, honey, you know what I like.” She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose.
He sighed, resting his chin in his hand. “I needed a night like this.” A silly smile spread across his face as he stared at her as if memorizing every detail.
Desire curled in her lower abdomen. Maybe there was something to this soulmate thing because she felt like she'd known Ken forever.
He plucked a hot dog from her box and held it to her lips. “You know you want it,” he said in a singsong voice.
She took a bite, her appetite returning with a vengeance. “I'd love to meet your dogs.” Since she was about to lose all of hers. For a happy hour, she had forgotten her troubles, which now returned with a vengeance.
What would she do with all her animals? They’d all be strays. She continued her dinner in silence.
“Good. It's a date. I'll bring breakfast.”
“Oh, mornings are busy. My walkers come for the dogs and there’s chaos. Not a great environment for a meet and greet.” She hadn't thought he meant so soon.
“That’s fine. We’ll do it another time. I’ll still bring breakfast.”
She couldn’t stop smiling. Her life was falling apart, but Ken made her feel safe. She leaned against him, rubbing her face against his shoulder in a sign of affection. Just as quickly, she pulled away. The last few years, she’d been working her shifter upbringing out of her behavior. In less than twenty-four hours with Ken, it was returning. That didn’t happen when her dad visited. “We talked a lot about me. Tell me someth
ing about yourself.”
What was it about him that drew out her shifter side? Around him, she didn’t need to pretend to be something she wasn’t. Not like with Trixie or her other human friends.
“I'm a Virgo.”
She snorted.
“There's not much to tell. What would you like to know?”
“Tell me about your parents.” Safe topic. She loved hers and it was an opening to tell Ken they were on their way here to meet him. If that didn’t chase him away, then she’d take this soulmate thing more seriously.
“They're dead.”
She restrained the urge to smack her forehead. “Sorry to hear that.” Ugh, where was the hole she could crawl in to? “Was it recent?” She was so smooth it was a wonder that she didn't slide off the chair like a gross slug. Inside, she punched herself in the face.
He slung his arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Don't worry about hurting my feelings. I never knew them. I grew up in a local orphanage until I was ten. My alpha adopted me once they discovered I was a shifter.”
Not only was he the pack beta, but the adopted son of the alpha. Great. No pressure. And she was worried about him meeting her parents.
The hot dogs weren't sitting well in her stomach.
“You look pale. Are you okay?”
“Just ate too much.”
“Let's get you home.” He scooped her into his arms and stormed the beach where he had parked the paddleboat.
She’d thought she'd had her fill of dating dominant males in high school.
She rested her head on Ken's shoulder. There was a huge difference between someone caring for her instead of caring to own her. She'd been alone for so long. Maybe Ken was a good thing?
Living among humans just hadn't filled the hole in her heart. They treated her nicely and as one of their own, but they didn't understand some of her instinctive reactions. If she snapped her teeth at Trixie, her friend took it very personally and gave her weird looks for days. Being with Ken reminded her of life before New Port.