by Zoe Chant
“I won’t tell anyone,” Sam said quickly. “I mean. It’s not anybody’s business if you’re just living your lives in the city like everyone else, right?”
“That’s what I’ve always thought,” he said. “I’m glad you see it the same way. I appreciate your not mentioning it.”
“That’d be a terrible way to pay you back for saving my life,” she said. “Blabbing your personal business all over the city.”
“A lot of people would want to tell everyone they knew,” Dale pointed out.
“I would never do something like that,” Sam said indignantly.
Although it wasn’t like she had anyone to tell. Most of her friends had been at her old job, and when she’d been laid off, they drifted apart. Now that she was working nights, her schedule didn’t match up with anyone else’s.
And her family…well, the less said about them, the better.
She was distracted by the depressing thought that she was mostly alone these days, and the silence stretched out, becoming awkward again.
Then Dale cleared his throat and said, “I couldn’t help noticing earlier…you don’t have much self-defense training, do you?”
Sam blushed, hot and ashamed. “No,” she admitted.
It wasn’t like she had a lot invested in being a badass, but it was shameful to be so obviously bad at her job. She’d always taken pride in doing good work, but here there was no way she could feel like that.
“They didn’t train you when they hired you?”
Sam shook her head. “They just told me what the protocols were for a few different situations. They told me there were hardly ever any incidents, they—they just needed a warm body in their uniform to discourage anyone who might think about breaking in.” Her face was hot again.
“I can’t believe how irresponsible that is.” Dale sounded disapproving. “Well, I guess it’s typical corporate cutting corners. But they put you in danger by leaving you out here all night alone. The least they could do is help you take care of yourself.”
Sam shrugged. She agreed with him, but it didn’t seem right to bitch about her employer while she was literally guarding their doorstep.
“Listen,” Dale said. “I work at a mixed martial arts studio.”
“Really?” Maybe he was a martial arts expert.
And he’d still chosen to intimidate those guys instead of beat them up. Sam’s respect for him went up even further.
He nodded. “Really. And listen. We have a women’s self-defense class on Thursday evenings at seven. It’s designed to help women learn to protect themselves, no fancy moves or anything, just practical techniques in case you’re attacked. Like tonight.” He put his hand on her shoulder, not gripping tightly, just a light touch. It still almost seemed like Sam could feel heat of his hand through her jacket. “Would you consider coming by this week?”
Sam hesitated. She wanted to—she’d go just to see Dale again, she realized, let alone learning how to keep herself safe at her job—but.
“I don’t really have the money for classes right now.” It was embarrassing to admit, but Dale already knew she couldn’t do her job, so why not tell him she was broke, too? It was the truth.
“First class is free,” he said quickly. “And I hate the idea of you standing out here undefended every night. I’m sure we could figure something out.”
She hesitated a little more. “Do you teach the class?”
She thought about Dale showing her how to stand, putting his arms around her to guide her hands—but then she’d be his student, and it would probably be against the rules to—
To what? Date? Sure, this gorgeous, buff, cultured-sounding, kung fu master shapeshifter definitely wanted to date her.
But Dale was shaking his head. “A good friend of mine teaches it,” he said. “She’s a foot shorter than me, fifteen years older, and she still kicks my ass half the time when we spar.”
“Really?” Sam would’ve loved to be that badass someday.
Dale nodded. “Really. She’ll like you, I can tell.”
Sam blushed again. “Okay,” she said, before she could talk herself out of it. “I’ll come.”
He smiled again, and this time it was a real smile, lighting his face up. “Thank you.”
* * *
“Thank you,” Dale said, incredibly grateful that Sam had finally said yes. He was trying not to think about what would’ve happened if he’d picked a different route for his run this morning.
He couldn’t get the picture of Sam struggling with those men out of his head. His lion had been growling protectively ever since he’d seen her, and the idea that he might not have come this way—
He could not believe that this company had been so careless with Sam’s safety. Having her out here all night, alone, with no way to defend herself, was insane.
Something occurred to him. “Do you have any way to get in touch with someone inside the building in an emergency? Do they have any protocols for that?”
She pulled a walkie-talkie off her belt and held it up. “Supposedly with this. I use it to check in once an hour, and I always get an acknowledgement. But I tried it when those guys showed up, and nothing happened. I think the guy who runs the cameras took a break.”
She’d called for help, and no one had been listening. Dale’s hands curled into fists, and he forced them to relax, breathing deeply. “That’s unacceptable,” he said, as calmly as he could. “You should complain.”
But she shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I need this job.” She smiled, without any humor. “Remember, I’m broke.”
She was so matter-of-fact about it. It made him want to wrap her up in his arms and tell her not to worry…which was ridiculous. He wasn’t the sort of man who whispered sweet nothings into women’s ears.
Even if she was so beautiful it hurt. The way her dark hair fell softly around her shoulders, the curves he could see under her guard’s uniform, the tilt of her nose under her large, chocolate-brown eyes…
“Is there anything you need?” he asked, instead of saying any of that out loud. “Did…something happen that you need help with?”
She was obviously smart and capable—more capable than “a warm body in a uniform.” Maybe there’d been some crisis that had forced her to take this job—theft, fire, medical bills?
She shrugged. “Nothing more than has happened to anyone. I was laid off, I applied to every job that was open, and this was the only place that hired me. I lived on savings for a couple of months and that pretty much used up all my money.” She gave him another rueful, unhappy smile. “That’s life sometimes.”
Dale was simultaneously impressed by her calm, determined courage and furious that she’d been put in a situation where she needed it. He’d never experienced anything like what she’d been through—he’d always had the pride behind him if he needed them.
He wanted to ask where her family was, why they weren’t helping her, but he’d already bombarded her with too many personal questions for one night. Especially a night like this.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, instead. “I promise that we can work things out with the class.”
He wanted to promise her much more. You just met this woman, Dale! he told himself. His lion stirred unhappily at that, and he made himself take another deep breath. Calm down. He wasn’t normally a spontaneous person—Lynn would already be looking sideways at him about the last-minute addition to the class. He didn’t know why he suddenly wanted to hand Sam the moon if she said she needed it.
She’s a human, he reminded himself. He didn’t ask out human women. It was a bad idea all around, even if they knew he was a lion.
“I really appreciate it,” Sam was saying. She glanced at her phone. “It’s time for me to go in and fill out my paperwork. I’m done standing outside…”
“May I walk you home?” he asked immediately.
“Thanks,” she said, and he relaxed as she walked over to the door and punched in a long code—
too long, he noted, for it to be an easy escape route if she were attacked again.
Which she could be any time.
She was going to go right back to this job tomorrow night, he knew, even though it was dangerous. He didn’t want to let her—he didn’t want to let her out of his sight at all, and that bothered him.
Dale had always believed in serious relationships, not quick attractions. He’d never had this strong a reaction to a woman he hardly knew before.
There were a lot of shifters who still believed in destined mates and love at first sight, but in Dale’s view, that was often just an excuse to jump in bed with someone they thought was attractive. Just because Sam was beautiful—
—and smart, and determined, and brave—
—didn’t mean that she was his mate or his true love. She was just a person he’d helped out of a tough spot, and who’d impressed him in the process. That was all.
And she was human, so even if he did want to get to know her better, it was a bad, bad idea.
Sam came out the same door after only a few minutes, careful to make sure it locked behind her. “Okay,” she said. “I wrote down what happened on the paperwork and I told Jerry—the guy who watches the cameras—but I don’t know how much he cared.”
“He didn’t care that you were attacked?” Dale asked, disbelieving.
Sam shrugged a little. “I think he thought I was exaggerating because I was scared. And it’s true that there’s no way they would have gotten in the building. They’d need the code for that.”
And you never would have told them what it was. That was something Dale was sure of, even though he’d only known her for less than an hour.
“Shall we?” he said, instead of dwelling on that further. Sam’s integrity was…admirable. Yes. Admirable. That was all.
“This way,” Sam said, and started off.
It was quite a walk, and the sky lightened as they went, mostly quietly. Dale snuck glances at Sam as the sun started peeking up over the horizon, illuminating her face and picking up red-gold highlights in her hair.
“I don’t want to be bad at my job,” Sam said softly, after they’d been walking for fifteen minutes or so in companionable silence. “I want to thank you, really sincerely thank you, for giving me the opportunity to fix that.”
“There’s really no need to thank me,” Dale said, a little uncomfortable. “I’m actually a part-owner of the studio. I won’t be breaking any rules or causing any problems bringing you in.”
She flicked a quick glance his way. Even in the newborn sunlight, her eyes were a dark, dark brown. “Maybe it’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me. I’ve always tried to do my best at everything, and—I guess I just got discouraged or something, but I really wasn’t trying with this. The class is an opportunity to try, so I’m going to thank you for that even if it isn’t any trouble.”
She was just so sincere. He wished he could put his arm around her as they walked, tug her in to his side and kiss the top of her head.
He wanted to hold her hand. What sort of romantic idiot was he turning into? He’d never felt like this toward anyone before in his life.
The trouble was, he liked it.
* * *
Sam was trying really, really hard to just walk home like a normal person. She knew how; she did it every morning.
But after she’d clocked off, it had hit her hard. The attack out of nowhere, coming after a long night of being depressed and freezing, and being rescued...by the gorgeous guy walking next to her.
Sam hadn’t dated in a while, not since before she’d been laid off. Nothing said “sexy” like “unemployed and possibly soon to be homeless," after all. But even when she’d had a job and a life, a life that occasionally included men, she’d never dated anyone nearly as attractive as Dale. He was at least six three, solid muscle, and graceful as...well, as a cat.
And now that the sun was rising, she could see that his eyes were an amazing color, a clear gold-flecked amber. He made her mouth water just to look at.
And, of course, she was exhausted, still a little jumpy, and wearing...a security guard’s uniform. The clunky shoes, shapeless pants, and boxy jacket did not flatter her extra-curvy form. She knew she was not anyone’s idea of an attractive date right now.
For a second, she let herself fantasize about being the type of woman Dale might date. Tall, for sure, and probably slender and willowy.
No—she’d probably do martial arts too, so she’d be thin but buff. She’d work somewhere high-powered, she’d be brilliant and confident. She’d be a lioness.
Not a chubby, sad, broke, failed security guard.
Stop it, she told herself. She’d worked hard to get from where she’d grown up to her former job. There was no shame in working where she could until she could get a better job.
She was still doing better than most of her family had ever done. All she needed to do was stick with it, suck it up, and go to work every day, and she’d be all right eventually.
She’d had a stroke of luck tonight, even—a chivalrous lion shapeshifter being there to save her had been a one-in-a-million chance.
She was just on an adrenaline crash from being attacked by four men, and a little intimidated by Dale and his super-hot, aristocratic lion self, that was all.
And Dale had been incredibly nice to stay with her for the rest of the night and walk her...all the way home, she realized. “This is me," she said to him, coming to a stop at her door.
“Oh. Good," he said, and then continued a little awkwardly, “Take care of yourself this morning, all right? You went through a lot earlier. Eat a good dinner, get a good night’s sleep.”
“Sure, Mom," she couldn’t help saying.
He blushed a little. It was even more adorable in good light. “I just want you to be all right.”
“You made sure I was all right," she said. “I’m home, I’m safe. I’ll come on Thursday.” And then, because she just couldn’t help herself, “Will you be there?”
“Oh, yes. I’ll definitely be there.” He gave her his subtle little smile.
“Then I’ll see you on Thursday at seven," she said, and went inside.
* * *
Dale went in to work still thinking about Sam. He hoped she was all right. And he really hoped she showed up on Thursday.
If she didn’t, he suddenly realized, he didn’t have any good way of getting in contact with her. She hadn’t given him her phone number, and he didn’t have an email address or anything.
If she didn’t come by, his only options were showing up at her workplace, which was a little creepy, or at her home, which was even creepier.
He’d cross that bridge if he came to it, Dale thought firmly. And surely it wouldn’t be too creepy to stop by the street corner where she stood guard during his run, once and no more, if she didn’t come to the class. Then, if she brushed him off, he’d leave her alone.
But it wasn’t any kind of issue, because as far as he knew, she was coming on Thursday. God. He was acting like a teenager scheduling his first date. Normally, Dale didn’t worry about things—he figured out what needed to be done, and he did it.
So, fine. He’d do what needed to be done. When he got to the studio, he stopped by Lynn’s office.
Sure enough, she was already there, even though it was only 7:30, bent over some papers with a hand holding her salt-and-pepper hair back from her face. “Hey," she said. “You’re late today.”
“Something came up," Dale said vaguely, since he wasn’t willing to lie about meeting Sam, and ignored the way Lynn’s eyebrows went up. Before she could ask what exactly came up, he went for a guaranteed distraction. “I want to talk about Alan Chapman today. What’s the latest from him?”
Lynn’s focus sharpened immediately. “He’s sent three emails already this morning,” she said. “He’s sticking his nose in next month’s showcase, he has opinions about the budget meeting, he wants to look over the job applications we’re getting—the annual
should we move to a new building? email is going around and he’s sent out his usual ten-page manifesto on real estate options in the city. He said he’s stopping by later today. To do what, I don’t know.”
“Whatever he can,” Dale said grimly. “The man can’t stand not being in control.”
Alan Chapman was the biggest thorn in Dale’s side right now—he wanted to be the pride’s alpha, and he was furious that Dale’s father had passed the position to him. But he knew that he couldn’t beat Dale in a challenge fight, and that Dale had the majority of the pride’s support in any case, so he satisfied himself by making trouble.
“Then he should invest in therapy and stop taking it out on us,” Lynn said. “He’s been talking up poor Dawn. I saw him eating lunch with her last week, and she was looking starry-eyed.”
Dawn worked the front desk at the studio, and was a late bloomer—she’d only recently gone through her first transformation. She didn’t have too many friends, and was still trying to fit in with the adults of the pride.
“You should warn her off him," Dale said, but Lynn shook her head.
“Sometimes it’s like you were never a teenager yourself, Dale," she said. “That’ll only make him more interesting. Hopefully she’ll figure out he’s slimy on her own, but there’s never a guarantee.”
“Anyone should be able to see that Alan Chapman is slimy," Dale muttered.
Lynn rolled her eyes. “You say that because you’d rather wear workout pants than a suit any day. Dawn doesn’t have much of a passion for martial arts. I’m not surprised she thinks Alan’s interesting—he doesn’t practically live at the studio.”
“Lately he has been," Dale said. “You said he’s coming in today? When?”
“No idea," she said. “He has been haunting the place lately. I wish we had some way of figuring out what he’s up to.”
“Try talking to Freddie,” Dale advised.
Freddie McMillan was the closest thing Alan had to a stooge in the pride. Dale had tried more than once to take Alan’s place as Freddie’s mentor, to warn him that Alan’s weren’t the best footsteps to follow in, but Freddie was more into big offices than strict training schedules and had never warmed up to him. He liked Lynn more than Dale, at least.