by Brenda Trim
Limping to the bathroom, Erika checked her hair and makeup in the mirror then decided to change into slacks and a blouse. Bart would probably want to get right to work when he arrived, and she needed to be dressed appropriately. Just as she slipped into her black boots, there was a knock at the door. She walked to the bedroom window and peeked through the blinds. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the male outside her front door.
She took a deep breath, and acknowledged she was beyond nervous about seeing Bart. Erika wasn’t happy that he suggested replacing her to Lawson, but what was bothering her most was what happened the last time they were together. They shared a kiss she’d never forget. Would it be awkward between them now?
Erika wiped sweaty palms across her pants then walked to the front door and opened it. Bart was leaning against the frame, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder. His button-down shirt was untucked and the top three buttons were undone. His hair was tousled, and the male looked like he’d been through the wringer.
To her dismay, he also looked sexy as hell. Would she ever get past her feelings for him?
“Hey,” he muttered.
One simple word from the gorgeous male, and butterflies took flight in her stomach. She cursed her reaction as she stared into warm, brown eyes that soothed her wolf. All her life, Erika believed she was a strong female capable of overcoming any odds, yet here she was, pining for her boss when she knew it was a mistake.
“Hi yourself. Want to come in for a minute?” Erika asked and held open the door.
Bart stepped close and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “You have no idea how good it is to see you. I was so worried,” he confessed as he squeezed the breath from her lungs.
Shocked by the gesture, she stuttered, “Uh, it’s good to be here.” His musky fragrance washed over her, warming her from the inside out.
Before she got caught up in the moment, Erika stepped out of his embrace. “Please, come inside,” she offered as she put distance between their bodies.
He stared at her a moment as if he were going to say something then walked past her toward the kitchen. “Oh, good. You got the flowers and wine. I wasn’t sure if Patricia would get by before you arrived,” he announced as he took a seat at the small breakfast table. She bit her lip as she tried to mask her smile. They were from Bart, after all. Why did that knowledge make her so damn happy?
“Thank you for the beautiful flowers, and the wine. Listen, I need to talk with you about something,” Erika relayed, reminding herself to stay focused as she sat in the chair opposite Bart. He might’ve been the gift bearer, but Bart also wanted to take her job away, and that was bullshit. That fast, her anger returned and she glared in his direction.
“Sure, what’s on your mind?”
“I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll get right to the point. I don’t appreciate you telling Lawson to replace me. I told you how important this job is to me. Why would you go behind my back like that?” Erika barked, holding nothing back.
“Erika, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. What I said to Lawson was if you needed time to recover from your injury, he could send a temporary replacement. I also expressed how much I wanted you for the job. I’d never take that from you. I apologize if you thought differently,” he said and reached for her hand then quickly released it.
“Oh, I see,” she replied and felt her cheeks redden. How embarrassing. She was ready to give him a piece of her mind, and the male didn’t even do anything wrong. “I guess words got twisted, or maybe I was still groggy when Lawson talked to me about returning to work. Sorry for the confusion.”
It was harder than she expected to fight the urge to grab his hand. The air was clear now, and she didn’t need to make matters worse by getting all touchy-feely with Bart.
“Are you hungry, because I’m starving,” he suddenly blurted.
“I could eat. What did you have in mind?”
“C’mon,” he encouraged as he hopped up from his seat. “I know the perfect place.”
Bart escorted Erika to his black Mercedes and opened the passenger door. It was imperative he leave the guest house before he reneged on his vow to leave her alone. Her incredibly tantalizing fragrance was driving him mad, not to mention, her low-cut blouse provided him a spectacular view of her cleavage.
He half-wished he hadn’t seen her nude body at the bonfire because he couldn’t erase the image of her full breasts and firm ass. He’d fantasized countless times about Erika, and being alone with her was too great a temptation. He swore if she survived the bullet wound that he’d leave her be, and that’s exactly what he intended on doing.
He shut the door behind her and walked around to the driver side of his vehicle. He climbed inside and, moments later, they were speeding down the highway. “Siri, play Burnin’ It Down,” he commanded then cranked up the volume.
Playing Burnin’ It Down, Siri repeated moments before Jason Aldean’s voice blared through the speakers. Bart opened the sunroof and glanced over at Erika. A smile spread over his face when she started dancing in her seat.
“This is my jam!” she shouted over the loud music.
They drove in silence, listening to the country singer. Bart made a mental note to reach out to his friend and ask when he was coming to Tennessee. Erika would flip if she got the chance to meet her favorite entertainer.
It was a perfect evening. The sun was setting below the horizon and a cool breeze drifted through the sunroof. Erika’s long hair whipped around her face, and Bart nearly swerved off the road as he stared at the dark-haired beauty.
She was the most alluring woman he’d ever met. Hypnotic blue eyes, flawless complexion, curves in all the right places, and a soul that was wild and free. With a start, he realized her spirit was the embodiment of a wolf. It made sense given she was a shifter. He’d never considered the untamed qualities a shifter would possess.
As much as Bart detested their platonic relationship, it was better than nothing. He couldn’t imagine not seeing Erika ever again. It was frightening to think he almost lost her. Seeing her lying in a pool of blood was the scariest moment in his life. He’d never forget her lifeless body, clammy skin, and shallow breathing. Now, she was sitting beside him, healthy and strong. And, that was enough.
Bart shook off his thoughts and lowered the volume as they pulled into the parking lot of the upscale restaurant. He parked in the nearest parking space and killed the engine. “I hope you like Italian,” he commented as he opened the driver door and stepped out of the car. He tucked in his shirttail as he walked around to the opposite side of the vehicle.
“I like anything that involves bread and wine,” she replied when he opened her car door.
“Me, too,” he admitted as he offered his hand then led her toward the entrance.
As soon as they stepped into the establishment, a young man dressed in black slacks and a white button-down approached them. “Good evening. How may I help you?”
“Table for two,” Bart replied and noted the restaurant was unusually vacant, considering the peak dinner hours.
“You mean table for one?” the dark-haired guy asked as he looked at Erika then back to Bart.
“What? Why would I want a table for one?” Bart asked with a tilt of his head. Was he joking?
“Didn’t you read the sign posted at the front door?” the guy snapped and pointed behind Bart.
Bart turned and looked at the front door. He saw a sign but couldn’t read it from where he stood. What the fuck was going on?
“No. What’s the problem? Surely, our attire meets your dress code,” Bart surmised, looking at the nearby patrons. Hell, one guy was wearing jeans.
“Your attire isn’t the issue. And, I might add, we have a leash law in Chattanooga,” the guy sneered toward Erika.
What the fuck? Bart stalked toward the front door and steeped outside. In bold, black letters the sign said No Pets Allowed.
Bart stormed back into the restaurant
. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouted. The few customers dining within hearing range turned and stared at the altercation, but Bart didn’t give a shit if he made a scene.
“No sir. It’s plain and simple. She’s a shifter, and we don’t serve her kind,” he replied flatly.
“I demand to speak with the owner, or manager. Now!” he barked as his anger intensified. He’d never heard of such a thing. Granted, he’d never gone to dinner with a shifter, but surely the world wasn’t that backward.
“I am the manager, and it’s my right to refuse service as I see fit,” the dark-haired guy responded and crossed his arms over his chest. Was this young, scrawny punk supposed to intimidate Bart? Fuck no.
“Do you know who I am?” Bart demanded and stepped toe to toe with the manager.
“Can’t say that I do. Doesn’t matter though. Shifters aren’t allowed here. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” the guy spat and turned to walk away.
Bart grabbed his shoulder and spun him around then punched the manager in the face. “You’re an idiot, and I wouldn’t eat here if you paid me.”
Erika gasped then grabbed Bart’s arm. “He’s not worth it. Let’s go,” she snapped and pulled Bart toward the exit.
As soon as they stepped outside, Bart punched the exterior brick wall. His vision turned red and he contemplated going back inside and pummeling the guy’s face into next week. Who the hell did he think he was anyway?
“Hey, look at me,” Erika said and grabbed Bart’s hand. Her touch calmed him to the point he could breathe easier and think more clearly.
She gently caressed his raw knuckles then placed her palm to his cheek. “I’ve never seen you like that. You’re pretty scary when you get angry,” she admitted with a smile.
“Can you believe that shit? Has this ever happened to you before?”
“Bart, before I was kidnapped, I’d never been around humans. I don’t know if that’s common behavior, or not. What I do know is most humans consider us second-class citizens. Why do you think shifters stick to their own towns, which are in the most remote areas? Did you think that was a coincidence?” she asked with a lift of her shoulders.
“I thought it was because you preferred privacy, so your wolves could run freely. Am I that big of an asshole that I didn’t see what was happening right under my nose?” he questioned, more to himself than anything. How did he not know about the extreme prejudices against shifters?
“We do prefer living near forests, but it’s more about segregation than running wild. We operate our own businesses, our children are home-schooled, and we keep to ourselves. The pack leader takes care of us. Honestly, we don’t need more than that,” Erika declared. To Bart’s surprise, he didn’t detect one ounce of animosity in her tone.
How could she not be furious at the way she was treated? He was ready to explode over the injustice.
An idea sparked and Bart grabbed her hand, tugging her toward his car. “There’s one more place I want to take you,” Bart suggested as he helped her into the passenger seat and shut the door.
“Can’t we just grab some food at a drive-thru?” she asked when he plopped into the driver seat and started the car.
“No, we can’t. Bear with me a few more minutes,” he insisted as he drove three blocks to his favorite pizza joint. If Tony refused to serve them, his faith in humanity was shot.
They parked near the entrance and Bart purposely twined their hands together as they entered the establishment. The owner looked up from the stainless-steel prep station, and smiled their way.
“Bart, how the hell are you? It’s been forever,” Tony exclaimed as he tossed dough between his palms.
“I’m great, Tony. It’s so good to see you again. This is Erika Pittman, and I promised this beautiful lady some pizza,” Bart introduced and wrapped his arm around Erika’s shoulder. She eyed him curiously but didn’t say anything.
“Beautiful is right,” Tony agreed and winked at Erika. “Grab a booth and I’ll be right over.”
Bart exhaled. Clearly, not every human had their head up their ass. Tony didn’t seem to mind serving Erika. Still, he needed to research the depth of hatred toward shifters. As a human, it was an embarrassment, but as governor, it was reprehensible. Laws needed to change, and he was in a position that could make it happen.
Tony walked toward their booth, a bottle of wine and two goblets in hand. “Would you like a glass of Merlot? It’s from a local winery, and it’s one of my personal favorites,” he said with his thick Italian accent rolling off his tongue as he presented the bottle to Bart.
“I’ve been to this winery. Excellent choice,” Bart replied. Tony smiled and proceeded to open the bottle, pouring a sample for Bart to taste.
He swirled the red liquid in the crystal glass then took a sip. Nodding his approval, Bart looked across the booth at Erika and winked, making her smile. Tony proceeded to fill their glasses as Bart stared at the stunning woman in front of him.
“So, Erika. What toppings do you prefer on your pizza?” Tony asked as he set one of the goblets in front of her.
“I’m a meat-lover,” she answered then laughed when Tony let out a loud whistle.
“Ooo, I like this one, Bart. She’s a keeper,” the bald man teased.
“Well, I can’t argue there, but we’re not together. Erika works for me. She’s connecting me with the shifter community so I can better address their needs. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her,” Bart professed and gazed into blue eyes that never failed to mesmerize him.
Erika blushed at his compliment. “Thank you, Bart, but I haven’t really done anything yet.”
“Well, I’ll say this. I’ve got a sixth sense about these things. I feel a strong connection between the two of you. One that is a rare treasure, and shouldn’t be ignored,” Tony advised then changed the subject. “I’ll put in your pizza order. Would you care for a Greek salad while you wait?”
Erika was nodding and answering before Bart could open his mouth. “That would be fantastic. I love Greek salad. Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Tony replied and walked toward the kitchen.
Bart raised his glass. “Here’s to good people like Tony, fine wine, and great company,” he toasted with a smile.
“Indeed,” Erika replied and clinked her goblet against his. She took a sip and moaned. “Holy grapes, Batman. This could be the best Merlot my taste buds have ever met,” she confessed and took another drink.
“The winery where it’s made is less than an hour away. You should let me take you there on your day off. The view where it sits is incredible,” he told her. The view is pretty fucking good right here, too, he thought then mentally admonished himself. There was a fucking war going on in his head where Erika was concerned, and it was making him insane.
“We’ll see,” Erika answered casually but the lift to her mouth told Bart she was more interested than she let on.
“Hey, I hate to do this, but I need to make a quick call before I forget. Do you mind?” he asked as he pulled out his cell phone. He hated the younger generation and their obsession with social media. Bart was old school. When eating dinner, it was no phones allowed. This, however, couldn’t wait.
“Go ahead. I’m enjoying the atmosphere and the wine,” Erika said as she looked around the small, intimate restaurant.
Bart found the contact he needed and pressed the call button. “Hey, Thomas. How are things at FOX these days?” he asked when his buddy from college answered the call.
Tony served their salads while Bart chatted briefly then explained what happened to him and Erika at the Italian restaurant. He hoped the producer would be interested in covering the story, and he was right. Thomas was more than happy to give it his attention. Bart thanked him and told Thomas to call if he needed an interview or additional information, then ended the call.
When he glanced at Erika she was staring at him, her mouth agape. “What?” he asked, suddenly worried he’d made a bad decision regard
ing the phone call.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you seems inadequate,” she muttered before she turned her face away. Bart swore he saw a tear in the corner of her eye.
“Thank you for what?”
“For bringing this out in the open. I don’t know many who would do that, especially someone in your position. It could bring negative attention your way. I hope you’re prepared for that,” Erika replied.
“I don’t care. This has to stop. I’ll take the heat if it brings awareness,” Bart countered.
“Why do you care so much?” she asked as she set her glass on the wooden tabletop.
So many replies came to mind. He wanted to say because of her. Explain to Erika the day he held her wolf, something changed. He changed. Bart wanted to take her in his arms and smother her beautiful face with kisses. He yearned to take her to wineries, and concerts, and show Erika his favorite places.
But that wasn’t going to happen. He vowed to leave her be so she could find her way in the pack. It was what she wanted most, and he wanted her happy. So instead of telling her what his heart felt, he locked gazes with Erika and said the only thing he could.
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“I see,” she murmured as Tony approached their booth and placed a large tray in the center of the table.
“Bon appetite,” Tony offered with a smile.
“Thank you,” Bart and Erika replied simultaneously.
The aroma of garlic, cheese, and sauce filled the air as steam rose from the freshly-baked pie. It was topped with sausage, pepperoni, bacon and ham. It smelled amazing and Bart couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into the pizza.
“I call dibs on this one,” Erika announced and grabbed the largest slice on the tray. She took a large bite and moaned as her eyes rolled back in her head. “Wow, I could die happy right now,” she confessed.
What he wouldn’t give to be a slice of pizza, he thought as he spotted a gob of sauce at the corner of her mouth. Bart reached over and swiped it with his thumb then licked it clean. Erika’s eyes widened and her breath hitched as she watched his tongue swipe across the sauce.