Better than Perfect

by Lynn Hagen

  The guy furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry, but are you hitting on me?"

  Judging by his tone, Jerry was offended, which meant he wasn't gay and Brady needed to switch tactics again. "Uh, no. You just look exactly like my best friend."

  Brady wanted to shave his tongue with a razor for spitting those words out.

  "I think I'll be going now." Jerry turned and walked away, and Brady let him. When Jerry was out of sight, Brady followed, wanting to know where the guy lived. He had a first name, and with an address, Brady could find out exactly who Jerry was.

  * * * *

  The demon grinned as he walked into the house on the corner of Bleaker Avenue. He had no idea who it belonged to and didn't care. That wolf shifter had followed him, undoubtedly trying to get an address so he could find out who "Jerry" really was.

  If they hadn't been out in broad daylight, Simian would have gutted him. But he had to execute his plans on the down low. Kingsley was paying him a boatload of money to wipe out the wolves, but Simian had to do it with stealth, which was something he normally didn't do. He liked his kills bloody with a lot of screaming and begging.

  Too bad the wolf hadn't followed him into the house. Simian would have redecorated the walls in red. He looked around to find no one was home. That was a shame. Eviscerating the family who lived here would have helped pass the time. Instead, he slipped out the back door and was on his way.

  Now that that nosy wolf was suspicious, he would be the first Simian killed. He'd wait until dark to do it, though. Kingsley was very specific about staying under the radar, and if Simian wanted to get paid, he had to play by that rotten elder's rules.

  But once all the bounty hunters were wiped out and he was paid, Simian would enjoy killing Kingsley. He didn't need Nazar finding out what had gone down. The king had strictly forbidden any of his minions to "play" in Mercury. But the money was too good to pass up, so when the job was done, Simian would erase anyone who could tie him to this.

  * * * *

  Brady stood in Sheriff Ezra Braxton's office as he gave him the little bit of information he had on Jerry. "I just need to see if everything checks out."

  "You want me to spy on one of the residents?"

  "Are you kidding?" Brady grunted. "You have a seat on the council. You're as deeply involved in this as the nonhumans. Don't get sanctimonious on me."

  "Keep your damn voice down," Braxton snapped. "Out of the twelve deputies I have, only one is a shifter. I don't need questions about councilmember seats or anything else to do with…that stuff."

  "He looks just like the guy Hennessey and I took to the prison," Brady said in a lower tone. "Something fishy is going on, and I need to make sure that house is owned by Jerry."

  Scowling, Braxton tapped on his keyboard. "You could have done a property search yourself."

  If Brady had known how, he would have. He'd tried to enlist Tap's help—the pack's resident computer whiz—but Tap was too busy trying to work the bugs out of the program they'd stolen from the veil. Braxton had been Brady's only option.

  "Then why're you giving me grief over this?" Brady moved around the sheriff's desk to look at the screen. He had a feeling Braxton was only helping him because he had mentioned Hennessey's name. He couldn't figure out how Hennessey didn't see what everyone else saw.

  The sheriff was sweet on the bounty hunter. But Hennessey refused to believe the sheriff had a crush on him. Either Hennessey was that thickheaded—which Brady doubted since Hennessey was an intelligent guy—or he was playing dumb for some reason that Brady neither cared about nor wanted to figure out.

  "The house belongs to Scott Miller," Braxton said. "He bought the property three years ago."

  "Then who the fuck was that guy?" Brady spoke his thoughts, not really looking for an answer from Braxton. "I need to talk with Matt."

  "You're welcome!" Braxton hollered when Brady exited the office and hurried down the hallway. He knew his suspicions had been correct. He should've brought "Jerry" in for questioning, but without any proof that something was off, Brady could've have been wrong and he would've been harassing an innocent resident.

  He cursed as he left the station, kicking himself for not listening to his gut. Now he had to track down the imposter, and there was no telling where he had gone. Brady doubted he had remained in Scott's house. But right now, he needed to see his alpha and try to figure out what in the blue blazes was going on.

  * * * *

  It had been a long day, and watching for Brady to return had made it even longer. Leslie didn't want to admit he was desperate to see the guy, but the longing he felt said otherwise.

  "You expecting someone?" Frank asked as they cleaned their workspace. "You been eyeing that door all day." He gave Leslie a friendly nudge with his elbow as he wiggled his thick, gray brows. "Or do you got a hot date?"

  "With my bed." Right on cue, Leslie yawned. And he hadn't faked it, either. He was genuinely tired and was ready to clock out and go home. Normally he stayed until Frank locked the doors, but he hoped Frank would let him leave soon.

  "Go on," Frank said as if reading Leslie's mind. "Go get ready for your date." He gave a whimsical sigh. "I remember those feelings fluttering around inside me when I was courting my Anna." He cleared his throat and gave Leslie his back.

  Leslie touched Frank's shoulder. "There's a lot of older, single woman in Mercury. Maybe go to bingo or—"

  "Nah." Frank waved him off. "Anna was it for me. Even though she's been gone for two years, I still feel like I'm married, ya know?"

  Leslie wished someone loved him that deeply. Since starting at Sweetie Pies, Leslie had noticed Frank looking off into space a few times as his eyes misted. Leslie's heart went out to his boss. "No, I don't know, but Anna must've been one lucky lady."

  Frank looked at the floor and shook his head. "Nah, I was the lucky one."

  Leslie gave Frank a hug before he walked around the counter. He would've asked if Frank was sure he could leave, but Leslie wanted to get out there. "I'll see you in the morning."

  "You can start at six instead of five." Frank winked. "Might be exhausted from your date."

  Leslie wasn't going to argue that he didn't have a date. Frank looked too pleased at the idea that Leslie had a love life.

  "Good night, Frank," Leslie said before hurrying out the door. He turned west and started home. As he passed the Mercury Rising Agency, Leslie looked at the big windows and saw some guy seated behind the reception desk. There was a parking lot between him and the building, and seeing inside wasn't that easy, but he'd recognize Brady anywhere as he stood on the other side of the desk.

  It was an agency that located missing people. Did Brady work there or was he looking for someone? Leslie picked up his pace. He didn't want Brady to spot him and think Leslie was spying on him. Which he wasn't. Mostly.

  Leslie made it to his street and waved at his neighbor, Mr. Yarnstead. The elderly gentleman was watering his lawn and waved back. Leslie loved living in a small town where knew a lot of people and the streets weren't congested with traffic—unless it was Saturday night and everyone was headed to Grizzly's. Leslie never understood why that was the hottest hangout spot, but a lot of the residents spent their evening there in the parking lot, gathered in small groups as they chatted and laughed and seemed to have a good time.

  He'd gotten to his door when a dark gray pickup pulled into his driveway. Leslie's pulse quickened when he saw Brady behind the wheel. He unlocked his door and simply stood there as Brady got out and strode Leslie's way.

  "I was gonna give you a ride, but Frank said you left a bit early."

  Leslie waved him inside. "He thinks I have a hot date."

  Brady chuckled. "Yeah, he asked if I was that hot date."

  Curious, Leslie asked, "And what did you say?"

  He sucked in a breath when Brady pulled him into his strong arms. Leslie shivered. This was what he'd been craving all day—Brady's touch, his scent, that deep need in his pretty blue eyes.
Brady cupped his face and gave Leslie one of those toe-curling kisses.

  "I told him I was." Brady slid his hand up Leslie's back as he walked him backward toward the couch.

  "Well," Leslie said, "since you admitted as much, where're you taking me?"

  Brady seemed confused, then grinned. "Do you really want to go on a date?"

  The sad truth was, Ian had never taken Leslie on one. He had never taken Leslie anywhere. If Leslie wanted to have some fun, he usually footed the bill. That got tiring real fast, so they'd ended up chilling at Leslie's house.

  Leslie arched a brow. "Do I really have to ask? You said we're mates, so show me what that means."

  Not that Leslie entirely believed Brady. If he hadn't seen the guy turn into a wolf, he would have thought Brady insane. But he was still straddling the fence, unsure if what Brady was saying was true.

  "How about dinner at Grizzly's?" Brady asked. "My treat. You can order whatever you want."

  Maybe everyone hung out at the tavern because no other place in town stayed open so late and served not only booze, but food, too.

  "Let me get changed." Leslie gave him a quick kiss, bubbling with excitement. They might be only going to the local tavern, but a date with Brady made Leslie smile like an idiot. Their first time at Grizzly's didn't count. It hadn't been a date, and Leslie had screwed it up royally anyway. Now they could do this properly.

  He was dressed and ready in less than ten minutes, and the drive hadn't taken that long. The entire ride Brady had held Leslie's hand, and Leslie was over the moon with how sweet Brady was treating him.

  They entered to the smell of pot roast and caramelized onions. Leslie noticed that about Grizzly's. No matter what was being cooked, the smell of onions always lingered on the air. He spotted Darius and quickly looked away. He hoped the bartender didn't spoil his evening.

  "Why don't you go find us a seat?" Brady walked toward the bar where Darius stood. He spoke to the bartender, though Leslie couldn't hear a word Brady said. Darius's eyes rounded, then he nodded as he looked Leslie's way. What on earth was going on?

  When Brady returned, Leslie asked.

  "I told him you were my mate," Brady said as he sat.

  Leslie looked wide-eyed at Brady and whispered, "He knows about…you know?"

  Brady chuckled. "Yeah, the bear shifter knows."

  "Bear…" Leslie looked at the bar. God, he'd fooled around with a bear shifter? Seriously? Darius had the build, but never would Leslie have guessed his secret.

  "Whatever happened between you two is none of my business," Brady said, drawing Leslie's attention back to him, "but I don't want details, and that shit is over. You're mine, Leslie, and I defend what's mine jealously."

  Leslie opened his mouth to say he didn't belong to anyone, but closed it when a sharp pain cut across his stomach. He winced as he pressed his hand over his gut. It felt like someone was twisting a knife into him. Not that Leslie would know how that felt, but the comparison seemed dead-on.

  A frown puckered between Brady's eyes. "You okay?"

  "I don't—" Leslie curled into the table as another, sharper pain sliced through him. "Oh, God, that really hurt."

  "Shit." Brady's jaw dropped. "How the fuck did I forget to tell you?"

  "Tell me what?" Sweat gathered over Leslie's body as the pain intensified. He scooted his chair back as he wrapped both arms around his midsection.

  "What's going on?" Darius asked as he approached.

  "The Katana." Brady paled. "I need to get him to Dr. Whitfield."

  "The vet?" Leslie panted. "Why on earth would I go to him?"

  Brady came around the table and hunched down next to Leslie. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Because I think you're pregnant."

  Chapter Six

  "Get out!" Leslie opened his front door and stepped to the side. Brady and the vet stared at him, but Dr. Whitfield complied, walking past Leslie with sympathy in his eyes. It was a look Leslie neither wanted nor needed. He didn't care what the whacky vet said. Leslie wasn't pregnant. He'd seen with his own eyes that shifters existed. Leslie was still absorbing the fact he might be Brady's mate. But he drew the line at a man getting knocked up.

  Brady really was a fruitcake and so was the doctor.

  "Will you just listen?" Brady stood by the couch, his hands up, palms out. "How can you accept the fact I'm not human but refuse to believe you're carrying my pup?"

  Pup. Leslie felt light-headed. Ever since meeting Brady, his life had turned upside down. He felt as though he was getting gut-checked every time he turned around. "Even if I did believe you, which I don't, if you knew this could happen, you could have warned me. If I am carrying your baby, fuck you for doing this to me. Now get the hell out before I call the cops."

  All Leslie could imagine were six or seven puppies growing inside him. The image made him want to pass out and beat the hell out of Brady. Leslie hadn't been this livid in a long time. Not even catching his boyfriend cheating had evoked such anger. Not to this level. Leslie vibrated with rage, and if Brady didn't leave, he just might murder the asshole.

  "Fine, I'll go." Brady walked toward him and stopped in front of Leslie. "But it's the truth and I won't be too far. You're carrying my son, and I'd rather die than let anything happen to either of you."

  When Brady walked out, Leslie slammed the door. He stood there, his hand on the knob, staring at the living room and feeling as though his entire world was falling apart. And he'd thought Brady a decent man. Had Leslie seriously considered giving the guy a chance? God, he had the worst taste in men.

  Leslie wiped at his eyes before pulling his cell phone from his back pocket. He dialed Jimmy, who still hadn't called him since the night the panther had invaded his backyard. Although Jimmy had no idea what was going on, Leslie was pissed at him for not being there when he needed him the most. Best friends should have some kind of sixth sense so they'd know when they were needed.

  "Hey, Leslie," Jimmy said when he answered. "I was gonna call you, but—"

  "Get your ass over here now," Leslie snapped. "And I mean in the next five seconds. My world is crumbling and I need you here."

  Before Jimmy could reply, Leslie hung up and tossed his cell phone on the coffee table. He went into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels in his cupboard. If ever there was a time to get shit-faced, it was now.

  He stood by the sink and stared at the almost-full bottle. What if Brady was telling the truth? What if Leslie really was pregnant? Could he take that chance? With a frustrated sigh, he set down the bottle and opted for a strong cup of coffee, instead.

  As Leslie watched the coffee drip into the carafe, his mind flashed from one thing to another. His thoughts were so jumbled he hadn't heard Jimmy come into the kitchen.

  "So what's the emergency?"

  Leslie squeaked and spun, pressing his hand over his heart. "Goddamn it!"

  Jimmy grinned. "You called me here and I scared you?"

  He turned back to the coffeepot, unsure how to tell Jimmy what was going on. His best friend would think him insane. Hell, Leslie thought himself insane. So much was happening so fast and he wasn't given time in between the blows to recover.

  "I know you saw the same thing I did that night." Leslie turned back to him. "Don't deny it, either."

  "Can you be a little more specific?" When Jimmy looked toward the floor, Leslie knew there was more going on than his best friend was telling him.

  "Gee, I don't know." Leslie slapped his hands on his hips. "The fact you didn't freak out when you saw that panther for starters."

  "Yes, I did!" Jimmy waved his hands around. "I almost had a heart attack when that panther leaped into the yard. Are you nuts? Who wouldn't be terrified?"

  "But you were ready to defend me," Leslie pointed out. "C'mon, Jimmy. You run from your own shadow, yet you were willing to take on that big beast?"

  "That's what best friends do."

  "Fine, I'll let that one slide, but you c
an't tell me you didn't see Brady change into a wolf." Leslie grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured himself some coffee. He went to the fridge and grabbed the milk, then added a small amount to the black liquid. "You were at the back door, looking through the glass. You saw what I saw, admit it."

  He returned the milk, spooned some sugar into his coffee, then faced his friend.

  "I'm not sure what I saw," Jimmy flat-out lied. Leslie knew he was lying because his best friend always tucked his hands behind his back and bit his lower lip when he was hiding something.

  "Brady says I'm his mate." He waited for Jimmy's reaction. When his eyes widened, Leslie had all the proof he needed. How would Jimmy know how to react like that if he didn't know what a mate was? "You bastard!"

  "What?" Jimmy squeaked.

  Leslie took a sip of his coffee, grimaced, then set the cup in the sink. He'd made it too damn strong. "You know about shifters."

  "About what?" There Jimmy went, biting his lip again.

  Leslie stormed across the kitchen and jabbed a finger into Jimmy's chest. "You're my best friend and you kept that from me."

  "I don't—"

  "Stop. Just…stop." Leslie closed his eyes. "Stop lying to me, Jimmy." He opened his eyes and glared at him. "Are you one of them?"

  Again, Jimmy looked at the floor.

  Leslie's heart plummeted. Not because Jimmy was possibly a shifter, but because they'd been friends for years and he'd kept such an important secret to himself. Because he'd stood there and tried to lie to Leslie.

  "Brady says I'm pregnant."

  If Jimmy was really telling the truth, his reaction would be shock or laughter. But his damn eyes went wide again, then his gaze lowered to Leslie's stomach. "Congrats?"

  Leslie wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry. He wasn't even sure if he should be mad at Jimmy or not. Leslie wasn't sure about anything, except the fact he wanted to be alone. "Is it true?" he asked. "Am I really pregnant?"