by R. E. Butler
Diesel followed Chris into the kitchen, who nodded at them and strode out into the shop. Diesel stole a kiss from Em.
“How many sandwiches do you want?” she asked.
“Is three too many?” he asked.
“Never. I’ll give you extra chicken, too.”
He helped her make the sandwiches, enjoying her chatter as she talked about how her parents had thought she was a loon for putting apple slices on a sandwich, but it was now one of the most popular lunch menu items.
“I call it The Em,” she said as she slid the tray of four sandwiches into the oven.
“It looks great, I can’t wait to try it,” he said. They leaned against the counter and she tucked herself close with a sigh.
“Everything okay with my dad?”
“Yep. He just asked me if I’d consider leaving the bar and coming to work here full time.”
“He did?”
“Did you know he was going to?”
“I thought he might. He always hoped that whoever I ended up with would want to come work at the shop, too. He wants it to stay in the family. But you shouldn’t feel obligated.”
“I don’t in the slightest,” he said. “Your dad asked me if I wanted to be a bouncer my whole life. He didn’t say it like it was an insult – it was just an honest question. And I had to ask myself that same question. I mean, seriously, it’s not like I was a kid and dreamed about checking IDs and turning away assholes from a bar as a career. I was limited by my injury, but you make me feel like I’m not limited in any way.”
“You can do whatever you put your mind to,” she said. “And anyone who thinks your leg is a limitation is an idiot. You’re the strongest guy I’ve ever known.”
He smiled down at her and kissed her lightly. His lion let out a loud chuffing purr.
“So?” she asked as the timer buzzed. She took the sandwiches out of the oven, then deftly transferred them to plates.
“Do you want me here?” he asked as he carried the plates outside. She followed behind with bags of chips and cans of soda.
“Of course,” she said. She sat down across from him and opened a bag of sour cream and onion chips. “But I want you to be here because you want to be, not because you feel obligated or think it’s something I want. I think our opposing schedules will get in the way a lot. I mean, I can see you’re tired, and I love that you’re pushing through that exhaustion to be here.”
“I hate being away from you at night.” Possibly the most truthful thing he’d ever said.
“I hate it, too. Bed’s super cold and empty without you.”
“So, I can give my two weeks’ notice.”
“You will?”
“Yeah.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t think of anything I’d like better than working here with you.”
Her eyes brightened and she stood and came around to him. He pulled her into his lap and hugged her tightly. She rested her head on his shoulder and said, “I can’t think of anything better, either. Just when I think I can’t possibly be any happier, you raise the bar.”
“You do for me, too, sweetheart.”
Chapter Eleven
Abbie Winchester sat in her parlor and looked through the binder containing all the eligible male and female lions who’d come to her looking for a mate-match. Mate-matching was an art form, a hereditary, supernatural power. Finding a perfect mate-match was something she took very seriously, just as her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother had before her.
She recalled sitting in the corner of her mother’s parlor and watching her choose mate-matches. All her mother’s matches had been successful with nary a separation among them. Divorce was a human concept, but occasionally a shifter couple who were not heart-matches would decide they weren’t meant to be and would separate. Traditionally, a mate-match was considered as binding as a heart-match. Once the couple mated and marked each other, that was it for them. But if one of them decided they wanted out, the other had two choices: let them go, or have the alpha enforce the contract.
It was the difference between an amicable split and a bitter union, and ego always seemed to be at the core of the decision to separate. The male or female who wanted out had their own reasons for taking off, and from what she’d seen and heard over the years about mate-matched splits, the reasons were usually selfish – they weren’t happy; they thought they deserved better; it wasn’t the life they’d have chosen for themselves.
It had happened only once in Abbie’s time as the pride’s match-maker with the Cowans, and she still couldn’t believe that the couple hadn’t been really meant to be together. The male had split for another pride and mated with a female there, saying he’d never been happy with Marlene. Abbie had been heartbroken – not that her record had been besmirched, but that the male had seemingly so easily cast aside his chosen mate and child. The fact that Marlene had never re-mated or come to Abbie for another match told her that she’d been right in the first place, but selfish desires had come into play on the male’s part.
But something had changed within the pride in the last month. Two mate-matches had been dissolved by one of the parties. The first had been alpha-to-be Duke, who had signed the mating contract with a female from another pride that Abbie had chosen for him. The same night, he’d gone to Tails and met his heart-match in a human female. The mating-contract was unbreakable save for one of the two lions finding their heart-match before the ceremony, and while the lioness’s father had threatened to go to war over the broken contract, Duke’s father had found another male to take Duke’s place. Diesel’s mating contract had been nullified when the female Abbie had chosen for him had declared he wasn’t a worthy candidate because of his limp.
It had been clear to her that Diesel was utterly destroyed by the lioness’s decision, but he hadn’t wanted her to find him another match. Then he’d gone to the bar for work and met his heart-match in a human female. He’d brought her to Abbie’s home to meet her and she’d been so tickled to see how happy the male was.
She was beginning to wonder if the three males in the pride who’d found their heart-match in humans were simply an oddity or a sign of things changing. She wondered, as she turned the pages and saw the photos and details of each unmated lion and lioness, if she should consider allowing humans to be part of her process. What if she was dooming lions to unhappy matings by looking at only lions as possible matches? What if she reached out not only to humans, but to the local wolf pack and offered to let a few of them in?
Ah, her mother would roll over in her grave at the thought!
But it was a different time, for sure.
And what was the saying? If you didn’t roll with the changes, you’d be squashed by them?
Her gaze landed on Diesel’s photo, which she’d moved from the eligible section to the mated section of the binder.
A loud knock drew her abruptly from her musings, and she closed the book and opened the door. To her surprise, Valerie and her parents, Rick and Denise, were standing on the front porch.
“Hello,” Abbie said, not opening the door enough to let them in. They were not welcome in her parlor after the terrible way they’d behaved. “I trust you’re not here to ask for another mate-match. I made myself quite clear the last time.”
Anyone – male or female – who rejected a mate-match would never, ever be matched by her. Valerie’s page had been taken from the mating book and destroyed the moment she’d left Abbie’s.
“We’re not here for a new match,” Rick said sternly. “We’re here to go through with the original match.”
Abbie’s eyes went wide. “You must be joking.”
“I assure you we’re not.”
“Well, it’s out of the question,” Abbie said. “I explained at the time that not approving of Diesel because of his injury wasn’t grounds for canceling the match, and that I wouldn’t match Valerie again under any circumstances.”
“I want to mate with Diesel,” Valerie said. “I realized I made
a mistake when we got back to our pride, and I was miserable.”
Abbie stared at the young female. There was something off about her tone. While she looked contrite, she seemed unhappy, too. But of course, her perception of the female was colored by how pissed she’d been at the match rejection.
“It’s out of my hands,” Abbie said. “Diesel found his heart-match and he and the female are already mated and living together. I can no more match you to Diesel than I can make it snow in August.”
“But I’m his match,” Valerie said. She looked at her father with a pleading gaze. “Daddy, please.”
“We’re within our rights to demand the contract be enforced,” Rick said.
“Only once it’s signed,” Abbie said, shaking her head. “But even if both parties signed it, Diesel found his heart-match and the original contract would have been nullified.”
“We’ll see about that,” Rick snarled.
He stomped off the porch, Valerie following quickly behind. Denise stood alone on the porch, first watching her mate and daughter, and then looking at Abbie. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t raise her to be like this, but her father has certain ideas about some things and she’s definitely her father’s daughter.”
Abbie didn’t want to be cruel to someone clearly suffering, so instead of telling her it wasn’t her problem, she said, “I wish you the best of luck, but hope you understand my hands are tied.”
Denise nodded and turned, following after her mate and daughter. Shaking her head, Abbie closed the front door. She sat in her favorite chair and picked up the match book. Perhaps it really was time for some changes.
* * *
Friday afternoon, Em handed change to a woman who ordered a vanilla latte to go, and then shut the cash drawer. She looked out the front windows and saw her sexy man planting flowers in the front mulch bed.
“He’s the hardest working man I’ve ever seen, and that includes your father, who is no slouch,” her mom said as she refilled the pastry case.
“I think he likes being outside, too. Must be a shifter thing.”
“I told your father not to work him too hard or he’ll scare him off, but every time we’ve suggested he take a break or take it easy, he says he likes to stay busy and asks for another project.”
Em smiled. “I’m very lucky.”
“I talked to Grandma and Grandpa, by the way,” her mom said as she adjusted the pastry items within the large, glass case. “They said they’re probably going to put the house up for sale if you’re sure you and Diesel don’t want it.”
“He wants to live in the lions’ territory. It’s really nice there, too. The pride lives in homes in the territory, and although they’re near each other, because it’s wooded it feels private.”
Diesel’s three-bedroom ranch was on the same winding road as his mom’s house. There was a lovely view of the woods from the kitchen, which Em enjoyed since she loved to cook. Before Diesel, she hadn’t bothered to cook much because it had just been her. But now that they were living together, she had someone else to cook for and adored how much he enjoyed her food. He could put away food, too. She rarely had leftovers.
“I’m sure we won’t be leaving the territory,” Em said, smiling at her mom.
“I’ll let them know. Is the house all emptied out?”
She nodded. “Of my stuff, yes. But you know Gram’s a pack rat.”
“I just know that Dad and I are going to have to store all her stuff at our house, since they have zero storage space in the RV.”
“Well, Diesel and I will help. Just let me know.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
She watched her mate stand and tuck his work gloves into his back pocket. He headed for the shop, and she noticed his limp, which seemed more pronounced.
The wolf couple – Winnie and Rudy – motioned Em over to the table where they liked to sit every week. They were so sweet and kind.
“Do you need a refill?” she asked as she joined them.
Winnie shook her head. Her voice was low when she spoke. “Is that your beau? The lion male coming inside?”
“Yes. Why?”
“We noticed he has a limp, but we don’t want to pry,” Rudy said. “Is it an old injury?”
Em nodded.
Winnie opened her purse and withdrew a brown plastic tub from a white paper sack. “Bring him over to meet us, okay?”
“Sure.”
Diesel had stopped at the counter after coming inside, and Em took his hand and brought him over to the couple.
“This is Rudy and Winnie Wolcott, my favorite regulars. This is my mate, Diesel Cowan.”
“Nice to meet you,” Diesel said, shaking their hands. “Em speaks highly of you. I’m glad I finally got a chance to meet you.”
“Sit, please,” Rudy said.
Diesel gave Em a curious look and sat next to her. “What’s up?” Diesel asked.
“I was in a car accident as a teenager,” Rudy said. “Broke my leg so bad I had a cast from ankle to hip. I was fifteen, hadn’t quite shifted yet, you see. I was walking in my mother’s kitchen and slipped on the rug and broke my damn leg a second time through the cast.”
“Ouch,” Diesel said.
“Tell me about it. So I have one leg that’s an inch shorter than the other. No amount of shifting would fix it. Our pack doctor’s been working on special salves for me ever since. He’s always trying something new to help with the pain. Pain meds don’t work much, you know. We burn through them too fast with our metabolism.”
Diesel went quiet next to Em. She looked at him and gave his hand a squeeze.
“Anyway,” Winnie said, “Doc just gave us some new salve, and we noticed you have a limp and Emberly said it’s from an old injury. We think you should try it. It might make a big difference for you and your pain.”
Diesel’s gaze dropped to the brown tub. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he cleared his throat. “Our pack doctor gives me an oil. While I appreciate the offer, I don’t want to take something you need.”
Rudy pshawed. “I already texted Doc to tell him to make another batch for me.” The old man reached across the table and put his weathered hand on top of Diesel’s. “Young man, living in constant pain is no way to go through life. You’ve got a lovely heart-match and you’re both still so young. If this salve can help you find some relief, then it’s worth it for me to share it with you.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Diesel said.
“Say you’ll take it and try it,” Winnie said. “And come see Doc in a few days and let him take a look at your leg. He might have some ideas for pain management.”
Diesel sucked in a harsh breath and said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If you really want to thank me, make me and the missus a couple of Ems on the house.”
Em chuckled. “You got it.”
Diesel took the salve and walked with Em back to the kitchen, where he pulled her into a bear hug that made the breath whoosh out of her lungs. She hugged him back tightly and rested her face in the crook of his neck. “You okay?”
“Better than okay. I’m humbled.”
He eased away from her enough so she could look into his eyes, which were bright with unshed tears. Her sexy, gorgeous, strong mate was overwhelmed by the wolves’ generosity, and she was touched by their kindness, too.
“They’re really sweet people.”
He rested his hands on her hips, giving them a light squeeze. “You’ve changed my life in so many ways in such a short time, sweetheart. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You’ve changed mine, too. I think that’s what we’re supposed to do for each other. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and it’s because of you. I get to spend the rest of my life with the most amazing guy.”
After they made sandwiches for the wolves, she and Diesel cleaned up the kitchen together and said goodbye to her parents.
“You two have plans tonight?” Em’s
mother asked.
“He’s taking me to the bar where we met to meet his friends.”
“Have fun,” her mother said.
“We will,” Em answered.
They headed out the back, and Diesel drove them to their house so they could get ready for their night. They’d taken sandwiches from the coffee shop and ate in between showering and getting dressed.
“Hey, will you help me with this stuff?” Diesel asked.
She turned and found him sitting on the bed in his boxer briefs with the salve in his hand.
“Sure.”
He stretched out on the bed and she climbed up next to him, taking the lid off the salve and giving the contents a sniff. “Wow, it smells really good. I hope it helps.”
Before the wolf couple had left, Rudy had told them that a little of the salve went a long way, and that once it was absorbed into the skin, the pain-relieving properties should become evident fairly quickly. She scooped some out of the tub and rubbed the thick ointment between her palms to warm it and make it easier to spread. Then she laid her hands on his leg and began to lightly work it into his skin. The worst of the pain was his upper thigh, so she began there, smoothing it over his skin with light strokes and moving down to his ankle before coming back to the top of his scars and spending time working the salve into the muscles. He stifled a growl, and she glanced at him.
“Too hard?”
“No, baby, it’s good.” He squeezed his eyes shut and she saw the hint of his fangs peeking from his lips. “It’s a good kind of pain. I can feel it taking the ache away.”
“You’ll tell me if I should stop, right?”
“You know I will, but you’re perfect.”
She giggled and continued to massage his leg. Her hands tingled from the ointment, which helped to keep them from aching with the pressure and repetitive motion. When she’d worked the ointment into his leg well, she washed her hands in the bathroom sink and walked back into the bedroom. He was standing at the bed, looking down at his leg.
“Everything okay?”
He lifted his head, his gaze full of awe. “Yeah, actually. It’s... it’s amazing. The ache is barely there, I feel practically normal.”