I stuffed the donut in my mouth, hoping the chewing would spare me from chatting.
Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to be the kind of person that could chat for hours with a sweetheart like Carrie. I just didn’t possess those skills anymore.
After I’d managed to inhale the donut and take a few swallows of the coffee…which somehow tasted better than any coffee I’d ever had before, I waved goodbye and hurried out onto the sidewalk. I took a deep breath of air, enjoying the breeze on my face. Out here in the sunshine, I could almost believe good things were possible.
Almost.
I was only huffing slightly by the time I made it to Dentworks. Exercise was definitely in order if I actually stayed here for any length of time. Next time I had to run for my life, it would be nice to do it without the risk of fainting from hyperventilating too hard.
I looked around for the man from the day before, but he was nowhere to be found. The garage opening where my car had been yesterday was closed, so I followed the sound of tools clanging and hitting metal from nearby until I found three huge stations, one with two cars deep…and the other filled with motorcycles. A crew of workers were working on them while they laughed and teased each other.
I shifted uncomfortably at the sight of so many men all together. There were at least ten of them. A particularly loud laugh had me backing up a few steps and debating whether I should come back later.
Flashbacks cycled through my brain of the games Alistair and his betas used to play with me…the way they tortured me for fun.
“What do you want?” an exasperated voice barked. “The hair salon’s down the street.”
My insides hackled at his tone. I looked to the side and saw an older man, maybe in his early sixties. He stared at me under shaggy, grizzled eyebrows, his brown eyes full of disdain and annoyance. His brown hair was frizzy and liberally streaked with grey, and it was badly in need of a trim. He was wearing grease streaked grey overalls over a stained white tee that had seen better days. The man would have been intimidating enough with his gaze alone, but the fact that he was a giant…at least six foot five or six, had me shaking in my boots.
“My car,” I squeaked, unable to look him in the eyes. I had no idea where my wolf sat on the whole dominant-submissive spectrum since I’d obviously never met her, but Alistair had instilled in me the notion that you didn’t look a man in the eye.
It was a habit I was trying to break.
He looked around. “Is your car invisible?”
I looked at him, puzzled.
“I don’t see a car,” he said as if I was slow, gesturing around me.
I laughed nervously, spotting it in one of the garages behind him and gesturing to it. “It’s that one.”
“That piece of shit? That’s not going anywhere any time soon. You make a habit of running into trees?”
I scoffed, caught between wanting to defend myself and wanting to cower from the anger that was inexplicably laced through this guy’s body. Was there something in the water here that had these random strangers biting my head off, or was it just me?
The snarl of a motorcycle distracted me from the retort that was on the tip of my tongue. The man looked behind me at whoever was driving up and straightened his shoulders, puffing his chest out as if he needed to impress the newcomer.
I turned around as the engine shut off…and my jaw dropped.
There was a golden god in front of me looking like he’d just dropped down from the heavens. Hazel eyes flecked with gold were framed by dark long lashes that any woman would be envious of. But there was nothing feminine about this guy. His hair itself was like spun gold, each thread falling effortlessly to frame his tanned face. He was sitting on his bike, loosely holding onto the handlebars. I found myself staring at his fingers and wondering how I could find even those hot. They were long but strong looking, his fingernails pink and smooth, with half-moons near the cuticles. My eyes wandered up his arm next, to the hint of a strong forearm that disappeared into the sleeve of his leather jacket, because of course the hot guy had to be wearing a leather jacket on top of everything else. I watched his hand as it moved up to rub his chin as he stared at me curiously. His nose was straight and aquiline, his lips were perfectly formed and parted slightly.
I was having trouble not swooning.
An image of the dark-haired asshole with his girlfriend from the day before danced across my brain. This guy could even rival him in looks, even though they were complete opposites. My body would probably burst into flames if I ever got into the same room as the both of them.
My vagina was praying for it to happen.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he drawled, and I found that my panties were suddenly feeling a bit damp. I shifted nervously in place again. I felt pinned in place by his intense gaze. It was dancing all over me like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to look at. His hand moved from his chin to his bottom lip, and all I could think about was what his lips would taste like.
I shook my head, becoming aware again of the grumpy old guy still standing behind me. I could feel his irritation growing the longer I stood there, so I lamely waved at the hot Adonis before turning back around to deal with my car problem.
“When you say ‘not any time soon,’ how long exactly is that?” I asked, my gaze flicking to my car, which somehow looked even worse today.
The grump rolled his eyes once again and opened his mouth, I’m sure to deliver another stinging remark about my driving abilities.
“You giving this pretty girl a hard time, North?” the stranger asked, his smooth voice sending delicious shivers down my spine. Something stirred inside of me, and I froze in place, not recognizing the feeling.
Rude guy, aka North apparently, growled at the guy’s question. The sound reverberated through me, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Did normal humans growl like that? He almost sounded wolf-like. I laughed at the thought, thinking that was preposterous.
I heard movement behind me, and I shuffled to the side so that I could see both of the men at the same time. One thing you’re taught as a wolf shifter, even a latent one like me, was that you watched your flank. These were definitely two men that you watched out for.
Golden god slid off his black Harley with ease. His shirt slid up with his movement, showcasing a sliver of hard muscle, the same golden shade as the rest of him. Ugh, he was beautiful.
“North?” the man questioned, standing up to his full height which was almost as tall as North was. But there was something in his voice, a thread of authority that was missing in North’s. It made me want to offer my neck to him in submission…
What the hell? That was a strange thought. That funny feeling happened again, like something was coming to life in my chest. I rubbed my chest absentmindedly as I continued to stare at the two of them.
There was a tick in North’s cheek as he held the gaze of the other man. A low growl erupted from the golden guy’s throat, and I watched, entranced, as he lowered his gaze.
I was imagining this, right? Maybe this was how the real world worked for everyone—alpha males struggling for dominance.
I shook my crazy thoughts away. Alistair had been fanatical about the threat of other packs. Their location and size had been meticulously kept track of. One of the reasons I was driving in this part of the country in the first place was because there were no packs around here. My brain was just imagining things, trying to find the familiar in the unfamiliar.