Jane Jamison

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Jane Jamison Page 7

by A Wolf's Lust


  Reed wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d tripped over his jaw as it hit the floor. “She came on to you?”

  Blake’s taunting grin said it all. “She sure did. Just grabbed me and plastered her mouth to mine. I was a goner.”

  “Sounds like you did more than kiss her.” Victor picked up the magazine where he’d left it on the couch and sat down.

  “A gentleman doesn’t like to kiss and tell, but I never said I was a gentleman. She, boys, is the one we’ve been waiting for.” He leaned forward, eagerness lighting his face.

  “She took you. That doesn’t mean she’s up for having all three of us.”

  “Guess again, Mr. Kitty. I asked her right up front how she’d like it if you two joined us some time, and trust me, she was more than willing to entertain the idea.”

  “I’ll ignore the Mr. Kitty remark from the guy who didn’t want to get into the ‘different shifter’ thing.” Reed knew Blake never meant anything more than a friendly jab. “But why are we still sitting here? Let’s go give the lady what she wants.”

  He was halfway to the door when he realized the other two men hadn’t gotten to their feet. “What’s wrong?”

  Blake and Victor exchanged a look that Reed wished he hadn’t seen. “For one thing, her roommate’s home. After walking in and finding us at the end of things, no less. Second, there’s a werewolf out there who’s targeting her. He’s lost out on getting her twice now. Whether or not he located her again by accident doesn’t really matter. I’d bet my last tooth that he’ll try again.”

  “We won’t let him get to her.” Reed’s stomach flipped over. What if they lost her so soon after finding her?

  “I want to get him. Like I said, he’s the same asshole who killed my father.”

  Reed blew out a ragged breath. Blake rarely spoke about his father’s death. He took a place on the couch. “And you’re sure?”

  “Dead sure. I saw the scar running down his shoulder. No two werewolves would have that same scar. That’s a human scar transforming to fit his werewolf body.”

  “All the more reason to catch him and put him out of our misery.” Victor rarely advocated violence, but when he did, he was serious.

  “What do you suggest we do?” Reed was ready to do whatever it took to keep Sam safe. And if it helped his friend in the process, then even better. “Should we tell her that werewolves exist?”

  “No. That would eventually lead to telling her about us.” Victor rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I don’t think she’s ready to learn about either of those things.”

  “She might be thinking that way, though. From the questions she asked me, she seemed to be hinting at it.” Blake glanced at Victor, who nodded, acknowledging that he’d picked up on her earlier questions, too.

  “So we keep a lid on it until we figure out for certain if she knows, right?”

  Victor nodded again, this time at Reed.

  “Then we need to watch over her by taking shifts.” Blake’s good humor had vanished. “Now that I’ve, we’ve, found her, I don’t want to lose her. Victor, she’s working tomorrow at the diner. Can you take that shift?”

  Victor, even more intense than usual, crossed his arms. “Yeah, I’ll be there. If we’re sure she’s the one”—he paused as both Reed and Blake gave him an “are you kidding” scowl—“then Blake’s right. Our priority needs to be her safety and not getting her in our bed.”

  “Damn it. Can’t we do both?”

  Blake stood, punched Reed playfully on the shoulder, then headed down the hallway, throwing his words over his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re not a canine? You sure sound like a dog sometimes.”

  * * * *

  “So, Sam, have you got a hot date with the furniture salesman?”

  Not another one. Since finding Sam and Blake in a compromising position, Loren had teased her nonstop. Sam finished wiping down the counter before facing her humorous friend. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but I’m a glutton for punishment, and if it makes you happy, then I’ll ask. Who are you talking about?”

  “You know. The guy that knows so much about recliners.” Loren rolled her lips under to keep from laughing then jumped away as Sam twisted her cloth and flicked it at her.

  “Will you keep your voice down? I don’t want Tony butting his nose in my business. Am I ever going to live that down?”

  Loren blew a bubble and popped her gum. “Not as long as I’m around. But seriously. Where is Blake tonight? Rehearsing for his next porn movie?”

  “Oh, my God. Not that it’s any of your business, but I told him I had to work. I’m sure we’ll get together again real soon.”

  “Together together? I bet you will.”

  Sam had her friend on the run again with her towel ready to snap at her bottom. “Don’t you have customers to serve?”

  Loren laughed and skirted the end of the counter then headed over to her service area of the diner. Tony’s diner was small, but the food was good and the prices were reasonable, making it one of the busiest places in Passion. But tonight business was off due to a big concert in Denver. The Fifties-style diner shone with the chrome and streamlined décor of that era. Red-and-white checkered walls had photos of movie stars and celebrities of the era while black leather booths skirted the interior and red-topped stools lined the counter. Records boasting names like Elvis Presley and Fats Domino framed the windows.

  Sam liked the friendly, laid-back atmosphere of the place. Tony was a skinflint, but he was also one of the funniest guys she’d ever met. When business was brisk, he’d come into the diner and regale his customers with one humorous story after another. She watched Tony, his bald head shining under the overhead lights of the kitchen and his arms flailing in the air as he joked around with Butch the cook.

  “Miss? Can I get a menu, please?”

  Sam pulled her attention away from Tony and turned to the gentleman who’d settled into a nearby booth. At least someone had finally come in and sat down on her side of the diner. She hurried over to him, snagging a menu along the way. Pulling out her order book, she widened her smile and brought her head up to greet him.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you come…” Her words died as her gaze settled on his face. He was middle aged with a rugged face that showed not only that he was tough but that his toughness had come from years of pain and hardship. Although he had a rough exterior, reminding her of a prizefighter or the enforcer in a mob, he had a worldliness seldom found on blue-collar workers. The lines in his face broke apart as he returned her smile, adding even more lines. Had she seen him before?

  “You didn’t see me come in. Is that what you were going to say?” His teeth needed straightening, but they appeared to be strong, if not a bit larger than most people’s teeth.

  She blinked and snapped out of it. “Right. I’m sorry about that. Would you like a minute to study the menu?”

  He gave the menu a cursory glance and shook his head. “Naw. How about a good, juicy hamburger with fries? Make that burger rare.”

  His cold black eyes made her throat close up. Granted, he wasn’t good looking by anyone’s standards, but why was she picking up a sense of danger from him? “I’m sorry, but we cook our burgers to medium well. You know. For health reasons.”

  His smile, a gesture that held no warmth in it, diminished a little. “Sure. Fine.” The chilly smile was back in full force. “I know you’ll do the best you can.”

  He stuck out his hand. “Name’s B–urke.”

  B–urke? Does he stutter? She swallowed hard. “It’s nice to meet you. Would you like something to drink?”

  “Black coffee would be great, but none of that decaf shit. I like to stay up and roam around at night.”

  This guy is seriously freaking me out. Loren had warned her that the diner’s patrons were some of Passion’s strangest, but she hadn’t expected anyone as strange as this guy.

  Sam noted his drink preference on her pad then stepped away. “Got it. I’ll be right back with
that coffee.” She turned and had to force herself not to run behind the counter.

  “New order.”

  Sam stuck the paper onto the wheel where all the incoming orders went then hurried to get his coffee. The quicker she got his order taken care of, the quicker she’d get him the hell out of the diner. Taking a steadying breath, she carried the cup and pitcher of steaming coffee, set the cup in front of him, and poured the hot liquid. She could sense his hard gaze on her, making her skin crawl, but concentrated on keeping her head down, her eyes averted, and getting the job done.

  “If you need anything else…” She’d managed to turn on her heel only halfway before he grabbed her arm.

  “Hey, what’s the rush? It’s not like you have a bunch of other people to wait on, right? So how about sitting down and talking? I could use the company.”

  She brought her gaze to his and tried to ignore the painful grip he had on her forearm. “I’m sorry, but that’s against the rules. So, if you’ll let go of me…”

  His grip loosened. “Shoot, I’m sorry. Sometimes I’m not the most socially adept person around. I apologize.”

  Okay, maybe he’s not so bad. At least he recognizes when he’s screwed up. She gave him a smile she didn’t feel. “No problem.”

  “You’re a very pretty girl, Samantha.”

  She inhaled a quick breath when she saw how he was staring at her chest. “How do you know my name?”

  “It’s right there on your nameplate.”

  Of course. My nameplate that’s pinned on my shirt. She felt ridiculous. Had she pegged him all wrong? Maybe her nerves were still on edge after the werewolf’s near-attack. “Oh, yeah. I forgot. Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “You could go out with me after your shift.”

  It wasn’t like she’d never had a customer ask her out, but having him ask her put the question on a whole new level of awkward customer relations. “I’m sorry, but that’s against the rules, too.” She kept her face neutral and hoped he wouldn’t guess that she was lying.

  A flash of anger crossed his face but was gone in an instant. “How are they going to know? Does your boss spy on you to see who you’re dating? Besides, Mary used to work here, and she dated the customers all the time. Come on. I promise not to tell a soul, living or dead.”

  Living or dead? The ick factor she got from this guy just went sky-high. “I don’t know who Mary is, but maybe she’s the reason Tony put the policy in place.”

  “Look, if you don’t want to go out with me, just say so.”

  Okay, you asked for it, Burke the Jerk. “Fine. Thank you anyway, but I don’t want to go out with you.”

  The flash of anger she’d noticed before was back and stronger than before. “For someone who doesn’t make shit for pay and relies on the generosity of others, you should be thrilled that someone of my position in life would take an interest in you.”

  She bit back the retort she wanted to say and gave him the watered-down version. “Your position in life doesn’t interest me in the slightest. In fact, I couldn’t care less what you do or who you are. This discussion is over.”

  He grabbed her arm as he’d done before, but she was still surprised when he clutched her arms, his long fingernails digging into her skin. She tried to maintain her calm as she glanced down at his hand then up into his furious expression.

  “Sir, if you don’t let go of me this instant, I’m going to be forced to call Tony.” Tony wasn’t a big guy, but he was tough when he needed to be. She’d seen him stand up to a man twice his size.

  He ground out his words. “Listen, you little bitch, when I want something, I get it. And I want you. Either you can come with me now, or you can come with me later. Don’t matter much to me when it happens, but it will happen. Got it?”

  The pain in her arm was bringing tears to her eyes, but she vowed she’d die before she let him see her cry. She pulled, trying to yank her arm out of his hold, but couldn’t. “First of all, it’s not ‘don’t matter much.’ You’re supposed to say ‘it doesn’t matter much.’ I’d have thought a man of your position would know that. Now turn me loose.”

  Somehow she kept the fear at bay, but when he stood up, keeping his grip on her, then started tugging her toward the door, she couldn’t stop the buzz of alarm spiking through her. Jerking her body the other way, she lifted her other arm to wave at Tony. But Tony’s back was to her, and she’d have to yell to get his attention.

  “Tony, I—”

  “What’s the problem, Sam?”

  She’d never been as happy to see anyone as she was to see Victor. His silver-green eyes darkened then lightened with the same unusual amber that she’d seen in Blake’s eyes. He noted the man’s grip on her arm then darted his attention first to her then to Burke.

  “Back off, man. Can’t you see Samantha and I are having a private conversation?” Burke plastered on a big and very fake grin. His teeth looked like they were too big for his mouth.

  Victor appeared as calm as he had while ministering to a patient in his basement clinic. Could anything rattle him? At the moment, she was happy he was cool, collected, and standing in Burke’s way.

  “I’ll tell you what, friend, you let her go. Then if she wants to continue the conversation, she can. But if my guess is right, she’ll walk away.” Victor gave him a slight smile that held an ominous air to it. “But if she decides to walk away, then you’re going to go in the opposite direction. You can do that either on your own steam or on mine.”

  Sam watched them as the tension became so thick that the air around her cocooned her body. Anyone looking at them would’ve though Victor was simply passing the time with a friend, but the same couldn’t be said of Burke. His lips drew back into a snarl, and she would’ve sworn she heard a low growl. She jerked her arm again, and this time, Burke released his hold.

  “I’m going to let your insolence pass this time, buddy, but don’t make the mistake of thinking you can tell old Burl what to do.”

  Victor shrugged. “I don’t like telling anyone what to do, but sometimes it can’t be helped.”

  Burke took a step closer, getting into Victor’s face. “Maybe we should continue this discussion outside? Just me and you.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  “But it’s not fine with me. I’m not having a brawl in my parking lot.” Tony, looking for all the world like a jovial host, pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. “Sir, from what I saw, you weren’t treating my waitress with respect. Therefore, I’m going to ask you to either leave without causing any more of a problem, or I can call the cops. Take your pick.”

  Tony, along with Victor’s quiet insistence, gave Sam the reassurance she needed. She pointed to the door. “The coffee’s on me. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”

  His eyes gleamed with anger and he clenched his hands. “Don’t think this is over.” He sneered at them. “Not by a long shot.”

  “Whenever, wherever, man.”

  Burke’s sneer turned into a snarl at Victor’s challenge. Nonetheless, he stormed past them, bumping against Victor’s shoulder as he did. For a moment, the amber in Victor’s eyes seemed to glow, but when she blinked and looked again, she only saw piercing green eyes with glints of silver.

  “Are you okay?” Tony’s question broke her focus away from Victor.

  “I’m fine. Thanks to the both of you.” She hugged Tony, leaving her hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry that happened. I swear I didn’t do anything to lead him on.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s a hazard of the trade for a pretty girl like you. I hope this incident doesn’t run you off. Most of my customers aren’t like that.”

  “No way. I like working here.”

  Tony shot Victor a curious look then moved away. He hollered at the cook to quit gawking and get back to work.

  “Sam, are you all right?” Loren, who’d watched from the sidelines, rushed over to grab both of Sam’s arms and give her
a once-over.

  “I’m fine. It takes more than one jerk to upset me. I’m just glad Victor was around to stand in his way.”

  Stating Victor’s name was the only invitation Loren needed. She slid next to the tall, handsome man and entwined her arm with hers. “So this is Victor, huh?”

  “I’m sorry. Victor, this is my friend and roommate Loren Tweed. Loren, this is Victor Lassister, Blake’s friend. You remember me telling you about Blake, right?”

  “Blake?” Loren pretended to search for the memory. “Oh, yeah. Blake. So you’re Victor, huh? Sam didn’t tell me how good-looking you are.”

  Like hell I didn’t. She’d given Loren the rundown on all three men. God knows she’d had no choice after Loren caught them bare-assed in the middle of the living room. Loren had demanded to hear as many of the vivid details as Sam would tell her.

  For the first time since coming into the diner, Victor acted like he was nervous. He nodded his head toward Loren then looked to Sam for help.

  Although she knew Loren was only being her usual bubbly self and not trying to come on to him, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. But why? She’d just met the man and had, in fact, slept with his friend. She didn’t have any claim on Blake, much less Victor. Still, hadn’t Blake told her that he wanted to share her with Reed and Victor? Had he meant it as a one-time fling? He hadn’t promised her anything, much less a future with him, and even less with both his friends.

  “Loren, you’re making him nervous.”

  Loren looked sincerely taken aback. “Oh, shoot. Don’t mind me. I’m not trying to hook up with you.” She shrugged and grinned at him. “I act like this around everyone.”

  “Okay. Got it.” Victor inched away from Loren, delighting Sam. “Is this the first time that guy’s hassled you?”

  “Yeah.” Sam ached to reach out and smooth his furrowed brow. She didn’t like causing him concern, but at the same time, she had to admit having him worry over her made her feel special.

 

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