It was pitch black outside as she stepped into the muggy air. Moonlight filtered through the clouds overhead as she started the trek to her apartment. Walking eight blocks, after being on her feet the last six hours, was not her idea of fun, but it couldn’t be helped. Last night she’d accepted a ride from someone, but he’d expected to be paid in a way that made her uncomfortable. Now she knew better than to accept rides from the bar patrons.
Her body was so tense from her shift that Abril wanted to cry with every step she took. As she drew closer to her apartment, the hairs on her nape stood up. It was quiet, except for the sound of her footsteps, but Abril had a feeling she wasn’t alone. Her feeling of unease grew until she spun to face whoever was following her. When she saw the shadow of a large man drawing closer, her breath caught in her throat. There was no way she could fight him off, and as exhausted as she was, outrunning him wasn’t an option either.
Panic welled inside her as she tried to figure out what to do. She spun on her heel and started to run, despite her brain telling her it was futile. A man that size would catch up to her if he really wanted to. She’d made it half a block before a hand closed over her shoulder and brought her to a halt. A sob welled in her throat as she turned to face her fate.
“Jesus, Abril. Would you calm down? You’re going to hyperventilate and pass out.”
“W-Weston?” She tried to calm her racing heart as she stared up at him. “You scared me.”
“I was just trying to make sure you got home okay. I didn’t realize you were going to walk the entire way there or I’d have gotten my SUV and given you a ride.”
“I don’t accept rides from guys at the bar.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is there a particular reason?”
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away. No way was she going to tell him that last night someone had demanded a blow job, and had knocked her head against the window of his truck when she’d refused. She still had a goose egg from the altercation, but she’d managed to escape before anything worse had happened to her.
Weston gripped her chin and turned her face toward him again. “What happened, Abril?”
“One of the guys from the college gave me a ride home last night. But when we got here, he demanded payment.”
“I guess he didn’t just want gas money.”
She shook her head.
“You’re just an accident waiting to happen, aren’t you? The asshole from last night, and then, you nearly got creamed by a car this morning. You need a keeper. Where the hell is your boyfriend?”
“I don’t have one.” But if he was going to offer to fill the role, she’d gladly accept. His gaze swept over her from her head to her toes and back again. She wondered if he liked what he saw, or if he thought she was a silly child. Abril had no idea how old he was, but she knew he was in this thirties.
“You shouldn’t be walking home alone at this time of night. It isn’t safe.”
Like she didn’t know that. Did he think she was walking because she thought it was fun? It wasn’t like she had much of a choice. If she wanted to get to and from her new job, she had to walk there, just like she walked everywhere else.
Weston motioned for her to start walking again.
“I’ll walk you home.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, but honestly, she felt safer with Weston around. He didn’t touch her as they ambled down the sidewalk, but she felt the heat of his body. Neither of them spoke a word, and Weston didn’t break his silence even when they reached her apartment. He watched her walk up the steps to her door, and she gave him a little wave as she ducked inside. Abril locked the door and leaned against it. If anything, it was clearer than ever before that Weston Drake had zero interest in her. He hadn’t touched her once, or tried to flirt with her. He’d just been doing a good deed.
What would it take to get the attention of a wolf like Weston Drake?
Chapter Three
Weston stared up at Abril’s apartment. One thing was for certain, she needed someone to watch over her. He’d have to talk to Zach about assigning a wolf to shadow her after work. No way in hell he’d survive another night like this one. When he’d walked into the Blue Coyote and seen her in those tiny shorts and that skintight shirt, he’d nearly bolted out the door. The mating pull was hard enough to fight without her looking like his every fantasy come to life.
Mason walked up beside him. “How much do you know about your mate?”
“I never said she was my mate.”
“You don’t walk women home. You fuck them then kick them out of your bed, but you didn’t so much as touch Abril. So if you weren’t following her for a good time, there had to be another reason. And there was only one thing I could think of that would make you protective of her.”
Weston sighed. “How many know?”
“I don’t think the others caught on. If she’s yours, why haven’t you claimed her?”
Weston watched her apartment as her shadow passed a window. “She’s too young for me. One day she’d wake up and realize she’s with an old man when she could have someone closer to her age.”
Mason smacked him on the back of the head, a brave move for a lesser pack member, but it got Weston’s attention. He turned to face Mason, but he wasn’t prepared for the fury he saw in his packmate’s eyes. What did it matter to Mason whether or not he claimed Abril?
“Do you have any idea what that woman has been through? Or how lucky she would be if you were to claim her? Using her age as an excuse only tells me you’re thinking more of yourself, and what other people might think, than about her well-being. Are you really willing to let her slip through your fingers because of a number?”
Weston’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean ‘what she’s been through?’”
“When did you first notice Abril? Because I went to school with her, even though I was a few years ahead, and I’ve never noticed you sniffing around her before.”
“I caught her scent when she was a teen and knew she was mine, and I knew I’d never be able to claim her. So I kept my distance and focused my attention elsewhere.”
“When she was working at the diner?” Mason asked.
Weston shrugged. “Lots of teens have jobs these days. I figured she needed some extra cash for a car or something. Except, it seems she doesn’t own one.”
Mason looked up at the apartment, and Weston followed his gaze. Abril looked out her window before disappearing into her apartment and shutting off the lights. Either it didn’t bother her that she had two wolves staking out her place, or she was so exhausted from her shift that she just didn’t care. Weston realized he was an ass and should have asked if she wanted something to eat before she went home, or offered to drive her in his SUV. Despite his determination to give her space, he felt this overwhelming urge to take care of her.
“Abril isn’t like most women, Weston. She’s independent, but only because she’s had to be. Abril has been on her own since high school, and before that, her life was far from perfect. Ever heard of Delia and Max Forrest?”
“I’ve heard of Max. Zach chewed his ass out a few years ago for trying to sell prostitutes to pack members. He’s a pimp, right?”
“He’s also Abril’s dad. About five years ago, whispers around town were that she had barely escaped before her dear daddy put her to work on the streets. And her mom isn’t much better. She’s an addict who turns tricks when she can’t afford her drugs.”
Weston swallowed hard and clenched his fists, fighting an internal battle with his beast. Just hearing about Abril’s past was enough to make him storm the apartment, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her off to his house. He’d handcuff her to the bed, if that’s what it took to keep her there.
Mason pointed at him. “Whatever idea you just had, I’d suggest you go with it. Assuming that was your beast winning the argument over claiming your mate. It’s no secret that she’s barely scraping by. I’ve seen her cart at
the grocery store. The woman lives off hot dogs, Ramen, and store brand cereal.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be claimed? If she’s independent like you said, then maybe she likes making her own way in the world and would think I was interfering.”
“She works another shift at the Blue Coyote tomorrow night. I asked the bartender, and he said her shift starts at seven and she gets off around the same time she did this morning. I’d suggest showing up and maybe, this time, try having a conversation with her.”
Weston had to admit that Mason had a good idea. If he really could better her life in some way, then he owed it to her to put some effort into a relationship. He’d have to set aside his fears that he was too old for her and let her decide if he was worth her time. He was beta and should have all the answers, or at least most of them, but when it came to his mate, he didn’t seem to know a damn thing.
Mason walked back in the direction of the bar, and Weston knew he should follow, but he spent a few more minutes watching Abril’s apartment, hoping for another glimpse of her. When it didn’t look like she was going to make another appearance, he headed back toward the Blue Coyote and his SUV. If there was even a chance that Abril was going to be part of his life, he needed to make some changes. His playboy image wasn’t going to win him any points, and he doubted the restraints hanging on his bed would either. Before he brought his mate home, he was going to order a new bed and throw out every toy he’d ever used on another woman.
Having a mate was going to be more work than he’d thought. For once, he wished he had ignored his cock and not had a steady stream of women in his life, or more accurately, a revolving bedroom door. Wolves never caught STD’s, so he didn’t have to worry about giving her anything, if they became intimate. His wolf had been disgusted with his behavior for the past five years, and the man was starting to feel the same way.
If he was going to try to win Abril’s affection, he was going all in. He’d do the dating thing if that’s what it took, and bide his time in claiming her. With some luck, it wouldn’t take long before she was his in every way that mattered. Getting her to move out of her apartment might take a little work, and getting her to trust him might be even harder. But once a wolf made up his mind about something, nothing stood in his way. Definitely not a half-pint woman a stiff breeze would knock over.
Chapter Four
Abril sat in her usual corner of the diner and stared at her laptop screen. It had been at least twenty minutes since she’d managed to put a few sentences together, and she knew just who to blame. Weston Drake. He sat at the counter with his brother, like he did every morning, but she’d caught him glancing her way a few times. It made her tingle in all the right places and blew her concentration to hell. When he’d walked her home last night, it was the safest she’d ever felt. No one had ever cared what happened to her before, and it made her infatuation with Weston stronger than ever.
She blew out a breath and reached for her coffee up, only to discover it was empty. The diner was slow this morning, but none of the waitresses were paying her any attention. Short of calling out for someone, her only other option would be to walk her mug up to the counter and ask for a refill. And that would put her up close with Weston. Part of her wanted to be near him, and the other part wasn’t sure she could handle the rejection again. He’d been polite, but he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested. She’d seen the kind of women he dated, and she didn’t even compare. They were all stacked with curves for miles, a lot taller than her, and definitely older than her. She had curves, but not the kind that should be outlawed.
Abril slid out of the booth and approached the counter, stopping a few spaces away from Weston. She felt his gaze on her again while she waited for the waitress to notice her, but the woman was too busy mooning over Zach. Not that she could blame her. Zach was easy on the eyes, but it was also obvious he had no interest in her. If anyone was a worse man-whore than Weston, it was his brother. She had no idea what made Zach the way he was, but there was a coldness to him, like all the joy had been sucked out of his life. In some ways, she could relate.
She cleared her throat and tried to get the waitress’s attention, but the woman didn’t so much as look her way. After another minute of standing at the counter like an idiot, Abril slunk back to her booth and gave up on getting more coffee. It wasn’t like she was writing anyway. Just as she was about to pack her things away, a coffee cup slid across her table, and she looked up at Weston.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked.
“Depends. Are you going to share your coffee?”
He smiled. “I can do one better. I’ll get you your very own cup of coffee.”
Weston picked up her mug and a moment later returned with a full cup. One flirtatious smile and he’d accomplished what she couldn’t. Abril wasn’t sure if she should be amused or offended. Apparently, she didn’t have the right equipment to get good service today.
“Thanks,” she said as she reached for the cup. “I should probably cut back, but it’s the only addiction I allow myself to have. And I only get coffee when I’m here.”
“All you can drink for one dollar is mighty tempting. You’d probably spend more than that brewing your own at home. Especially if you had one of those fancy machines that takes those pod things. Personally, I prefer a good old-fashioned coffee maker you can hear percolating in the morning.”
“I don’t own any kind of coffeemaker.”
For that matter, she didn’t own a microwave either. Besides her stove and refrigerator, her only other kitchen appliance was a toaster, and she’d found it on sale for five dollars last year around Black Friday. She didn’t have money for extras, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. A successful man like Weston Drake would only feel pity for her, and that was the last thing she wanted.
“I wanted to make sure I didn’t scare you by walking you home last night,” he said. “I only wanted to make sure you got there safely.”
“It’s fine. You scared me for a moment, before I realized who was following me. But I know you’d never hurt me. I don’t know if I said it last night, but thank you. I’m learning quickly that it isn’t necessarily safe to walk home from the bar, but I can’t exactly accept a ride from just anyone either. Men seem to think, if you’re a waitress at the Blue Coyote, they have a right to your body. My ass has been grabbed more in the two nights I’ve worked there than it has all year long.”
A low growl came from Weston, and it sent a thrill through her.
“I think this is the most we’ve ever talked,” she said. “Usually, you don’t even notice I’m here.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed. I just thought it would be better if I kept my distance.”
She studied him over the rim of her cup. “And why is that? I promise, I don’t bite.”
“No, but maybe I do.”
There was heat simmering in his eyes, and it made her breath catch. Was Weston flirting with her? She’d dreamed a thousand dreams about him noticing her, asking her out, making her scream his name as she experienced her first orgasm not earned with her own fingers. But now that it was actually happening, she had no idea what to say to him.
She cleared her throat and sipped her coffee.
Weston tapped her computer. “I see you in here every day with this. Are you taking online classes?”
“I’m working on a book.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’re a writer?”
“What? Because I work in a bar at night, I can’t write books? I’m just some lowly, dumb waitress?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. You just surprised me is all. If you’re writing professionally, why are you working at the bar?”
She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell him. Yes, she considered herself a professional writer. She was a published author after all, but her book was barely selling. It made her question whether or not her publisher should have ever given her a contract. Obviously, they saw something in her work that made them think i
t would succeed, but so far, it was falling way short of the mark. The first quarter her book had been available, she’d only earned back ten percent of her advance. At this rate, it was going to take more than a year before she was earning royalties.
“Writing hasn’t turned out quite the way I’d thought it would,” she admitted. “I guess I had stars in my eyes and pictured my books in stores across the world, becoming a New York Times bestseller, and making so much money that I could live comfortably for years. The reality is that the people who are that lucky are few and far between, especially the ones who make it with their first book.”
“It takes time. Just because it didn’t happened for you right away doesn’t mean it never will. Build your backlist, work on getting to know your readers, grow your newsletter, and I bet within a year or two you’re much further along than you thought you’d be.” He smiled. “Marketing would do wonders as well. Any idea what your publisher did for your book launch?”
Her mouth opened and shut a few times. “How do you know about book launches, newsletters and backlists?”
He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “Because I’m James K. Wulfson.”
“The thriller writer?” Her eyes went wide. “You’re a number one New York Times bestseller several times over.”
“It’s all a numbers game, Abril. The right marketing with the right book at the right time and anyone can hit the lists. The trick is to predict what’s going to be hot when your book releases, find a killer PR firm to handle all the pre-release hoopla and the launch itself, and the rest will work itself out. I think the key to staying on your readers’ minds is to be active on social media, send fairly regular newsletters, and interact with your readers as much as possible. I’m not saying it’s a foolproof plan, and the PR firm definitely isn’t cheap, but I think you’d see far different results if you did even half that stuff.” He leaned back. “Show me what you have. Author site. Social media. How many newsletter subscribers do you have?”
Wolf Charming (Iron Hills Pack, #1) Page 2