by J. L. Wilder
Still, she knew enough to trust her gut when it came to men making her uncomfortable. She would keep her distance from that guy.
The bartender returned with her drink. “Here you go,” he said. “I gave you three cherries.” He winked again. “You look like you could use something a little special.”
She permitted herself a grin. “Thanks,” she said. She pulled out the extra cherry and popped it in her mouth, allowing the sweetness to overwhelm her.
“You’re here for that book prize, aren’t you?” the bartender asked, leaning on the bar.
“I am,” she said.
He nodded. “I recognized you from the newspaper article,” he said. “I have to confess; I haven’t read your book.”
“Well, you’re not exactly the target audience,” she said with a grin. “It’s the story of a little girl who makes friends with a wild wolf.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What makes you think I’m not the target audience for that?”
“It’s a children’s book,” she said, laughing now. “It’s for small children.”
“I act like a child sometimes.” He used a toothpick to stab an orange from the garnish tray, pulled the peel away, and popped it in his mouth. “Maybe I should read it.”
“Well, maybe you should,” she said. “It is nominated for a prestigious literary award.”
She risked another quick glance down at the end of the bar. The man was still sitting there like a statue, still staring at her. Creep.
But maybe the bartender had recognized that he had a creep at his bar. Maybe that was why he was staying here with her, paying so much attention to her.
She appreciated it. Having his attention made her feel safe, as if nothing bad could happen. Whatever that creep at the end of the bar wanted, he would have to give up and go away. He would see that there was no chance of his getting to her.
I just wish he would go away.
“So," the bartender said. “If you’re here to accept an award, why are you drinking alone? I’d have thought someone as pretty as yourself would have lots of company.”
“That’s sweet of you,” she said.
“I just call it like I see it,” he said.
“No, I’m here on my own,” Natalie admitted.
“No boyfriend?”
“Terminally single, I’m afraid.” She couldn’t even remember the last time a man had shown her as much attention as this bartender was. Certainly not since her divorce.
“What about family?” he asked. "This is a big deal, right?”
She nodded. “I don’t actually have any family, though,” she said. Then, before he could fall all over himself apologizing for not having known, the way people usually did, she went on. “It was all a long time ago. My parents were killed in a car accident when I was just a baby. I grew up in the foster care system.”
“Wow,” the bartender said. “So, in a way, you’ve been on your own for a long time.”
She nodded. “I don’t have any horror stories or anything,” she said. “I was always placed with really nice families. But they weren’t...you know. My families. They were places to live. Everything was always temporary. The only permanent figure in my life was my caseworker, but she and I aren’t really in touch anymore. After I turned eighteen and became independent, I tried to stay in contact with her for a while. I still send her a Christmas card every year. But you know how it is. Life gets in the way.”
“I do know how it is,” the bartender agreed.
“I thought about bringing a friend to this,” she said. “But it seemed like a lot to ask, for someone to take time off work and come out to New York just to watch me accept a nomination for a prize I probably won’t win.”
“Hey, you could win,” the bartender said.
She grinned. “You didn’t read my book, so I’m guessing you didn't read the books of any of my competitors.”
“Guilty as charged,” he admitted.
“Well, there’s some really good stuff in there. My book is cute. I’m not going to say it isn’t. But there are some books among the finalists that I could see becoming classics, the kind of thing that parents in twenty years will be reading to their children. Mine doesn’t have that kind of staying power.”
The bartender shrugged. “You never know what’s going to be important to people.”
Then he leaned close. “Listen, do you know that guy at the end of the bar?”
“No,” she said. “Is he still staring at me?”
“He hasn’t taken his eyes off you,” the bartender said. “My shift’s about to end. Would you mind if I walked you back up to your room, just to play it safe?”
She felt a rush of gratitude. “I’d really appreciate that,” she said. How long had it been since someone had offered to take care of her? Natalie was used to managing for herself. The idea of someone going out of his way to do something for her was a little overwhelming.
Then again, he had also been flirting with her for the past twenty minutes, hadn’t he? It had been a long time since anyone had flirted with Natalie, but she didn’t think she was wrong. All the interest he had shown in her book, and in her background.
Maybe he’ll stop by the ceremony tomorrow evening.
It felt a little pathetic to pin her hopes of having someone in the audience on a man she had just met. But having him watching her would be better than having no one at all. She would take it.
He finished up a few last responsibilities—cleaning some glasses, wiping down the counter, cutting up an orange to refill the garnish tray—then took off the apron he was wearing and hung it on a peg behind the bar. “Ready to go?” he asked her.
She was a little reluctant to be leaving the bar, truth be told. She’d a better time than she’d expected. But she didn't want to take advantage of his generosity in offering to take her back upstairs.
She downed the rest of her drink quickly. “All set,” she said. “I feel bad, though. I would have left you a tip, but you’re leaving now.”
He shook his head. “No tip necessary,” he said. “The pleasure of good company is enough for me.”
Her insides felt full of butterflies, as if she were suddenly young again. How long had it been since any man had made her feel like this?
Too long.
She followed him across the lobby to the elevator, conscious of the fact that her heart was racing. Once the door had slid closed and they were alone inside, she felt hyper-aware of his breathing. The sound of it, the rise and fall of his chest beside her...
He turned to look at her. “I don’t know if you’d be interested,” he said. “But I don’t need to go home right away, if you’d like to have another drink or something.”
“I have a bottle of champagne in my room,” she said.
“Well, champagne’s always better when you have someone to share it with, in my opinion,” he said.
She grinned. “I couldn’t agree more.”
The elevator opened on her floor. This time, Natalie led the way. “My room is just around the corner,” she said, already wondering whether this night would be about a quick champagne toast or something more. He was attractive, muscular with dark eyes and curly hair. And it had been such a long time since anything had happened with any man...
She stopped in front of her door and swiped her card, feeling her pulse fluttering rapidly.
The green light flickered, and the door lock clicked. From behind her, he reached past her to push the door open, and for a split second, Natalie was charmed by the chivalry of that move.
Then he grabbed her by the back of the neck and shoved her inside, so hard that she fell to her hands and knees.
Before she could cry out, the door was closing behind them, and she heard the deadbolt sliding into place.
Chapter Three
OZZY
It wasn’t until the plane landed in New York that Ozzy really felt the weight of what he had done.
He’d left the pack without telling anyone what he was doing. He�
�d explicitly defied his brother’s wishes. His alpha’s wishes.
It was one thing when Gage periodically ran off to live in the wild for weeks at a time. Everyone expected that of Gage at this point. Everyone knew that it was just a temper issue and that he would be back. He always came back.
But with Ozzy, things were different. Ozzy never defied Randy’s orders. This was the first time he’d gone against his brother’s wishes.
He had felt on autopilot as he collected his bag from the overhead compartment and disembarked. What would they be thinking, back at home? Would they have discovered his absence yet? And if they had, what would Randy be saying? Ozzy was sure he would be angry—but how angry?
Once he was off the plane, his nerves had settled a bit. Flying was dangerous for shifters. Being in confined spaces like that...it could easily end badly. Ozzy knew none of his packmates would ever consider boarding a plane. It was only the fact that he so frequently spent time among humans that gave him confidence in his self-control.
Still, a six-hour flight was a long time to keep his cool under the best of circumstances. And these were hardly the best of circumstances.
He’d spent the flight studying the magazine Randy had shown them. He was sure his brother hadn’t looked beyond the photo, but Ozzy took the time to read the article. It contained lots of helpful information, including the name of the hotel where the Lister Prize finalists were staying.
He’d found a taxi and asked to be taken straight to that hotel.
Now he was in the lobby, looking around in awe at the trappings of this expensive hotel. He’d never been inside a place like this before. Although Ozzy spent more time among humans than just about anybody else in his pack, thanks to the time he spent in bars trying to avoid his older brother, this was an entirely new world to him.
He had spent the bulk of his money on the cross-country plane ticket that had gotten him there. There was no way he was going to be able to afford a room. He would have to find a way to stay in the lobby overnight, he supposed. Or, failing that, he could go out onto the street and return in the morning.
Either way, he needed to find the missing omega.
Natalie, he thought. Her name is Natalie Harmon. It was strange to think of her as having a name. He’d spent years researching her story, teaching himself about her, and in all that time, he had never had a name to put with the legend.
He went to the hotel bar. It was a nicer place than any bar he’d ever been in, with a plush carpet, deep sofas, and chandeliers hanging overhead. Ozzy took a seat at the bar itself. He liked this place, but there was such a thing as too much luxury.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, sizing Ozzy up.
That, at least, was familiar. Ozzy was used to his physical presence being off-putting to people in the human world. Most humans could sense that there was something different about him, even if they couldn't put their finger on what it was. And then, of course, there was his size, which plenty of people found intimidating.
If you’re intimidated by me, you should see the rest of my family, Ozzy thought, not for the first time. He was muscular, yes, but at least he took the time to comb his hair. At least he wore clothes that didn’t have holes in them.
“Just a beer," he said. “Whatever’s on tap.” He needed an excuse to sit for a while, to take in the activity in the lobby, but he couldn’t afford to buy anything expensive.
The bartender nodded and grabbed a glass. Ozzy watched as he filled it from the tap and set it down in front of him.
“What brings you here?” he asked.
“Business,” Ozzy said, his tone rather clipped. He didn’t want to socialize.
The bartender took the hint and left him alone, moving to help some other customers.
A woman in a black dress entered the bar area.
Immediately, Ozzy’s senses were on full alert.
He didn’t know what it was that gave her away. Maybe it was just that he had seen her picture in that magazine and had been prepared to spot her.
But it felt like something more than that. It felt like he would have known her with his eyes closed. There was something about her that he recognized without understanding how or why.
He inhaled. It was her scent. He’d never smelled anything like it before. It was somehow fragrant and spicy at the same time. Intriguing. Captivating.
Ozzy’s sense of smell had always been acute, of course, but it was much more powerful when he was in his animal form. It was rare for him to pick up such a strong scent as a human.
But she’s an omega. That must be why.
The bartender seemed to take immediate notice of her too. Ozzy supposed that was to be expected. She was attractive, especially in that black dress. Of course she was drawing attention.
Still, he was surprised to feel a flare of anger. He has no right to look at her like that. She’s our omega. She belongs to the Pacific Northwest Pack.
He forced himself to relax, to remember that this man had no idea of who Natalie Harmon really was. To him, she was just another human woman—a very attractive human woman—stopping for a drink at his bar.
Of course he would talk to her. It was only natural. Of course he would flirt.
It was natural, but Ozzy hated it.
It was all he could do to keep himself from intervening.
She glanced over at him, almost idly, but Ozzy saw her noticing him. She responded almost as powerfully as he had felt himself respond to her. Her whole expression changed, showing surprise and—was it fear?
What reason could she have to be afraid of me?
Was it possible that she understood who he was and where he had come from?
But even if that were true, why would she be frightened?
No, he realized, it probably had nothing at all to do with the fact that he was a part of her pack. She was probably afraid because he had been staring at her, because she was an attractive woman alone at a bar and he was a large, silent man alone at that bar, and he had been paying attention to her.
He had spent enough time in the human world to understand why a woman would find that sort of thing intimidating. This probably wasn’t any more complicated than that.
The bartender seemed to take notice of Ozzy too, and he moved down to Natalie’s end of the bar and struck up a conversation. Ozzy was annoyed. He’d certainly never had any intention of harming Natalie. The idea was laughable. He needed her. His whole pack did.
But it seemed unlikely that he’d get close enough to talk to her now. The bartender seemed determined to run interference, and Ozzy could see that Natalie was only too happy to accept the stranger’s help. She’d decided that Ozzy was the one she needed to be afraid of.
He’s a stranger to you too, Ozzy thought. Just because he works here, that doesn’t make him safe.
And then the idea struck him—what if the bartender actually wasn’t safe?
He certainly was paying a lot of attention to Natalie. Even as a few more people came and sat down at the bar, he ignored them, letting them wait to be served while he continued his conversation with Natalie.
And he took notice of her the moment she came in, just like I did. I thought it was because she was a good-looking woman. But what if it’s more than that?
Chuck had said it himself—the Rocky Mountain Wolves were likely to be out looking for Natalie too. What if he’s one of them?
But he couldn’t be, could he?
It was hard enough to believe that the Rocky Mountain Wolves could be in New York at all. Ozzy had made the journey quickly because he’d gotten on a plane. But how many shifters would be willing to do such a thing, to confine themselves that way? Ozzy knew none of his own packmates would do it. Even he had felt how deeply unnatural it was throughout the journey.
Then again, the magazine article was published a few days ago. If they traveled overground, they could have made it here by now.
Made it here and what, gotten a job as a bartender in this hotel
?
There’s no proof he actually works here. Anyone could step behind the bar and start serving drinks.
That settled it. Even though there seemed to be very little chance he would get to speak to Natalie tonight, Ozzy was determined to stay at the bar as long as she did, to make sure the bartender didn't try anything.
He’s probably just a human guy flirting with a woman he thinks is hot.
Probably.
But in case he wasn’t, Ozzy couldn’t afford to take any chances. He couldn’t lose his pack’s omega now that she’d finally been found again.
He couldn’t believe it was really her! He had spent his whole life reading about her, thinking about her, trying to piece together what might have happened to her. He had notebooks full of details about her. But all those details came from years ago, before Ozzy himself had even been born, when Natalie had been just a baby herself.
And now, here she was. It was as if a fictional character from a story had leaped off the pages and appeared in front of him in the flesh.
He had always supposed that she would be beautiful, but he was surprised by her good looks. Her skin was smooth and pale, so unlike the rough, sun-darkened skin of the rest of the pack. From his research, he knew her to be forty years old, but with her dark hair with silver pieces spilling down around her shoulders and her bright blue eyes, she made it look good. She was lean and muscular, and he could see the start of wrinkles beginning to form around her eyes, the kind that comes with smiling often.
She glanced over at him again and frowned, and Ozzy realized he was still staring. He tried to force himself to look away, but he couldn’t quite manage. She was fascinating.
The bartender leaned across the bar and said something to her, and Natalie nodded.
Ozzy frowned. What’s that all about?
Then the bartender was cleaning up, removing his apron, and stepping out from behind the bar. Natalie finished her drink, slid down off her stool, and joined him.
They’re leaving together!
He was paralyzed for a moment. He couldn’t get up and follow them away. There would be a confrontation if he did that, and of course, Natalie would say that she wanted to go with the bartender, that she didn’t want Ozzy following her. He would be stopped.