"Thank you, Andrea," Frannie said politely. It wasn't Andrea's fault that Pippen had gotten mean in his fatherhood and was now setting up his best human friend for complete and utter embarrassment. She sat down in the chair he had pulled out for her, leaning forward so that she wouldn't brush against his knuckles when he pushed her chair in. Sitting down across from her, Frannie remembered back to the first time she'd seen the police officer. He had shown up at her house, in uniform, to investigate a drive-by shooting. It had all been a formality, really. Luke had known who the shooters were and had dealt with them with the help of the pack and Frannie's other brother, Felix.
She hadn't been able to control her reaction toward him then. Like a star exploding, her body had burst into sudden awareness. She could have closed her eyes and still pointed to the exact location he was standing. And she wanted to do more than point. She had wanted to do things to him and with him that would eventually end in tears, ice cream, and vodka. So, she'd done what she always did when she needed to close off, she'd reverted to brat mode.
She couldn't be a brat now, not without making Pippen look bad, so she sat, trying to make it look like she wasn't staring.
"I'm excited to eat here now that they've remodeled the place," Brock said, looking over the menu. "I'm pretty hungry but I'm not sure what to get."
"Everything is really good. Pippen is a genius in the kitchen," she said begrudgingly. At that moment she didn't want to compliment Pippen. "But, listen, it's pretty obvious that we are being set up here. I won't hold it against you if you want to order what you like and eat it in silence. That way we can both get a free meal because if you think Pippen isn't footing the bill for this parent-trap-type bullshit then you have another thing coming."
He looked at her mouth as she spoke. Her tongue swept over her bottom lip nervously.
"He didn't set me up. I want to be here," he said, still looking at her mouth.
Frannie blushed and then lifted the menu so she could hide behind it. "Really?"
"I wouldn't mind getting to know you, Frannie. Can I even call you Frannie?"
You can call me whatever you want. "My friends and family all call me Frannie. My full name is Francesca."
"Francesca," he repeated.
Frannie hated her full name but somehow, when he said it, it sounded like a secret, something whispered between lovers in a dark, humid room. Horse hooves clopping against a cobblestone road outside a small window... Whoa, Frannie, stop romance novelling this. She took a large sip of her ice water. "What is Brock short for?"
"If you ask my brother, it's short for Broccoli," he said with a smile that flashed every single one of his pearly white teeth.
A giggle bubbled up her throat. "That's unfortunate."
"You're telling me. He doesn't call me Broccoli to my face anymore, not since I grew bigger than him."
"When did you finally outgrow him?"
"After my fifth birthday."
She was thankful she wasn't taking a drink or else she would have spit it across the table as she laughed. "You didn't have to endure it for long," she said between bouts of laughter.
"Long enough."
Andrea came back then and took their order. Frannie knew she should have ordered the salad or maybe even the oatmeal from the breakfast menu, but she was hungry and nervous. "Chicken club, extra bacon, and tots with a side of ranch," she said and then looked to Brock, searching his beautiful face for judgment.
"Nicely done," he said, his steel gray eyes gleamed approval. "I'll take the Kitchen Sink burger, add an extra patty, and onion rings, please."
Frannie smiled conspiratorially. "I'm glad you ordered the most expensive thing, hit Pippen where it hurts." She didn't really mean that and goodness knows she'd slip a twenty or two in his chef's apron later on, but it helped her esteem to pretend.
"I'm just hungry," Brock replied, though he answered her smile with one of his own. Frannie could spend hours obsessing over his chiseled jawbone, deciding if she should describe it as angular or carved. "I'm still growing after all," he said.
"What for? You're already bigger than your brother. Unless, someone else calls you Broccoli?"
"Nah, but shifters eat for two, you know, themselves and their inner beast," he said, leaning in like it was a secret.
He was maybe a few inches closer but the nearer proximity did crazy things to her breathing and her heartbeat. "So you are a shifter; I was wondering."
He looked down at his broad chest and then further down at his lap. "I thought, because of my size, it was obvious."
Frannie's mouth dropped open and Brock's eyebrows drew down in confusion. His eyes widened briefly as he caught on. "No, God, not that! I was looking at my thighs, they are huge even by my standards. I have to order special pants. That doesn't mean I have a small—I mean that it isn't—Jesus, how am I still talking?"
Frannie had closed her mouth and now she couldn't stop grinning. "Are you a wolf?" she said once she'd decided to let Brock off the hook.
"No. I'm—"
"Compliments of the chef," Andrea said, setting a plate piled high with steamed oysters in the middle of the table.
Frannie rolled her eyes. "Oysters? Andrea? Really?"
"I can take them back..."
"No, they can stay," Brock said, his voice had taken on the consistency of honey.
"And remind Pippen this is all courtesy of him," Frannie said, grabbing the first shell with one hand and the seafood fork with the other.
Brock grabbed a shell and fork as well. He held the shell out. "Cheers, to a great lunch, on the chef."
Frannie tapped her shell against Brock's before extracting the meat and dipping it in butter.
Brock swallowed and then made a noise that would have been more appropriate in a bedroom setting. "He is really talented. An extremely scary shifter, but man can he cook."
"Pippen scares a lot of people. He's a little like coming across a wild predator in the woods: you aren't sure if he is going to attack you or run away."
"Last time I stopped by he was butchering an entire cow in the kitchen. Covered with blood from neck to shins, I said yes just to get out of there."
Frannie's jaw stopped, mid-chew. "You said yes? What was the question," she asked after swallowing the oyster meat whole. It slid down her throat like a rock falling to the bottom of an empty well.
Brock's jaw clenched. "No, I mean—"
If she wasn't sure of what he had meant before, his stammering was the final nail in the coffin.
"You said he didn't set you up."
"He didn't technically, I was here to ask Oscar a question and—"
Frannie pulled the napkin off her lap and set it on the table. "And he scared you into it," she said, nodding.
"I was exaggerating, Francesca. I wanted to—"
"Save it," Frannie said, her voice just above a whisper. There was no way that she wanted to draw more attention to the black hole of embarrassment that was this forced lunch date. She looked around the room and spotted her older brother, Felix, across the dining area. He must have finished with his shift at the free clinic. He was co-master of the pack and the best shifter doctor around. She caught his gaze, giving him the best "help me" stare she could muster. "Enjoy your burger and don't worry about Pippen; I'll tell him it's my fault."
She turned to leave and felt Brock's large, warm hand envelop her wrist. "Francesca, please—"
"Brock? Is that right?" Felix said over her head.
Frannie was more thankful for Felix now than she'd been a few minutes ago because the moment Brock's skin came in contact with hers she wanted to forget how embarrassed she was, how pitiful she looked, and rub up against him for as long as he allowed. That sort of influence was consuming and way too dangerous.
"Yeah?" Brock said, annoyed at the interruption, still holding onto her wrist.
"It looks like my sister wants to go. You're going to have to let go of her now," Felix said calmly.
Frannie noticed
motion behind them. Despite her best intentions, pack members were beginning to notice the altercation. Frannie bit her lip and looked back to Brock with pleading eyes.
Don't make this a big deal. Let me go. I'm not worth it.
Brock released her wrist.
Felix led her quickly outside, through the questioning glances of the other pack members. With his hand at her back, he brought her all the way to her car door.
"Want to let me know what that was?" he asked.
Frannie saw the tired lines around his eyes and noticed a few more gray hairs that had been brown just a few weeks ago. He was a busy man now, father, pack master, doctor...he didn't need her troubles too.
"Nothing. It was nothing, just a misunderstanding. Be nice to him, okay? Except Pippen. Fire Pippen." Yeah right.
Felix yawned and massaged the back of his neck. "Whatever you say. Let Finn know I have time soon, he wanted a check-up."
"Will do, bro. Thanks again for saving me from that doomed date. I'll write you into my next story and this time, you won't die a horrible death."
"Thanks?"
Frannie got in her car and pulled out of the parking lot, turning back toward her home where she could be safe in her room with her laptop. She should have pushed right by Brock the moment she'd seen him in the doorway. Frannie sighed through a fresh twinge of loneliness. This was what she got for falling for a trap.
Chapter Three
BROCK
Brock watched the sexy little firecracker walk out of the restaurant and out of his sight. He clenched his fists and practiced his breathing. Seven counts in, hold it for four, eight counts out. Kai had taught him this little trick and it normally helped soothe his beast but after the third round of waiting for the calm, he gave up.
When she had first turned from him, he'd felt like a wild animal, overcome with his need to stake his claim. He felt that way now. Except she was gone and much of the wolf pack was inside the restaurant, staring him down. He looked the closest shifters directly in the eyes. Brock was used to living outside of pack culture and mostly operated on the fringes. Even in shifter society he was an outsider and his job as a police officer meant he was accustomed to having to reign in his temper repeatedly in a day.
Until that moment, Brock had had nothing against the alpha of The Den but the moment he'd stepped between Brock and Frannie, Brock had wanted to tear the hybrid alpha's arm off. The only thing that stopped him was the familial scent Brock sensed on him. He was related to Francesca and from what Brock knew of Francesca so far, she was loyal to her family and would not take kindly to Brock maiming any member.
Of course his future mate would be loyal. She was also fucking sexy and had curves for days, plump lips, and clever eyes. Brock couldn't wait to introduce her to Kai. He had no doubt in his mind that Kai would be just as sure as Brock was about who she was to them.
Brock had sensed something special about her from their first meeting, when he got a call about a possible drive-by shooting in a usually calm neighborhood. Based on rumors he'd heard from other shifters and observant people on the streets, he had suspected shifters had moved into the house in question long before he'd received the call. What he hadn't expected was for a little female spitfire to basically order him and his partner out of the house. At that time her smell had been masked by so many other shifter's scents, his beast was intrigued but didn't know for sure if she was theirs. Yet he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind and when he saw her again at The Den a few months later, he'd been almost completely sure. So sure, he had started hanging around The Den more often, hoping to run into her. Pippen setting him up had been a blessing and after today's lunch, he was positive.
Almost lunch. Damn it, Brock, your big stupid mouth.
Kai liked to tease that he was the brains while Brock was the brawn.
Bullshit, since Kai was as well-built as he was, just on a smaller scale, and Brock was great with the talking.
With the talking?
He was a cop, though. Part of his job was to talk to people every day.
Then how did you just make that slice of perfection think you were coerced into being here?
Brock pulled out his wallet and dropped a few twenties on the table. If he hurried, maybe he could catch her in the parking lot. Though, as he walked through The Den's dining area, he felt, as well as sensed, every pair of shifter eyes in there fall on him.
Thanks to his fringe life, most of them didn't know who he was from any other customer. Some of them might not even know he was a shifter. Lion shifters were great at being covert and their scents weren't so obviously detected.
They would know now. And many of them did not seem too pleased.
A young shifter stepped in front of him, blocking him from the exit.
"Can I help you?" he asked in a tone that was friendlier than Brock expected.
"Not unless you want to hold the door open for me," Brock replied jokingly. He had to have respect for the kid. Brock knew how he looked on the outside. Often his presence alone curbed the majority of belligerent responses toward him, but at times there were people who were either dumb enough or brave enough. He thought this kid might be the latter.
"My pack master seemed pretty clear on you not following Frannie," the shifter said, a little of that friendliness evaporating away.
Brock didn't doubt a woman like Francesca having a pack family as loyal to her as she was to them, but right now, this kid and every other shifter in there had the wrong end and were irritating his inner beast.
Anything that kept his beast from his mate would be seen as an enemy. It was getting harder for Brock not to let the growl seep into his words. "I'm not looking for trouble here. I just need to talk to her again."
The younger shifter took a step forward. He probably meant for it to be intimidating. Brock held his ground. Irritated or not, he didn't need to hurt this guy.
"Stand down, Caleb," the alpha related to Francesca said. Now that Brock saw him with a clearer head, he remembered his name was Felix. Brock could see Francesca in his eyes and the texture of his hair. Felix was also technically a human but Brock had heard from Oscar that when Felix had mated his body had changed, adopting more alpha characteristics. He was now something more like a hybrid. However, he was one-hundred-percent alpha. A fact made clear by the way Caleb immediately obeyed his order.
"My sister is gone. She went home," Felix said carefully. He sized up Brock before speaking again. "I don't have to worry that you will show up there unannounced do I?"
Brock's inner beast growled a resounding, hell yes. But even Brock could see the futility in that. He doubted the other alpha that lived at Francesca's house would be happy if Brock showed up out of the blue and without an invitation.
"No, I'm not going to follow her right now. But I will be contacting her again. You'll have to decide how you feel about that and act accordingly."
Felix squinted as if looking at Brock with new eyes. Brock was just petty enough to be pleased by how Felix had to turn his face up at little to meet his eyes. "Why are you so sure you'll be talking to Frannie again?" he asked.
There wasn't any reason to sugarcoat it. "Because she is ours."
Chapter Four
Brock
Brock climbed the last step to the fourth floor. Every step away from Francesca had been a lesson in will power. He'd tortured himself even further by taking the stairs up to the top floor where he'd lived with Kai since they had moved back together. Shutting the door softly behind him, he didn't bother locking it.
The two of them didn't just live in the neighborhood, they had roots there. Kai had a knack for anything bureaucratic and had helped nearly everyone in their building from getting their driver's licenses to filling out government assistant forms. He even helped most of the building with their taxes in April and they both volunteered regularly at the various shelters in the area. Adding to that, Brock's career as a police officer and Kai's as state prosecutor and despite them living in
a neighborhood that had a higher crime rate, not many were desperate enough to try and rob them.
He stomped through the living room—past their black leather couch, gray recliner, and dark wood coffee table that still had the paper from the day before opened to the crossword page—and into the kitchen. He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and pried the top off with his thumb.
"Babe?" Kai's whiskey-smooth voice called from him to the bedroom. In his agitated state, Brock felt his pants already tighten.
He headed out of the kitchen and into the bedroom they shared where Kai was sitting up, his back against the headboard of their bed, in only his boxer briefs. He chewed on the end of his black-framed glasses as he read a document in his hand, surrounded by several other similar-looking manila folders sprawled across the bed.
The only thing that could always calm Brock's wild inner beast was the sight of Kai. This was the calm that Brock had failed to feel earlier. Tall, bronzed, with dark hair and eyes, he was like a Hawaiian God, a fantasy come true in his bed. Their bed. For a minute, Brock imagined how differently the lunch date from earlier would have gone if he had had his mate with him.
"Why are you staring at me?" Kai asked, never taking his eyes off the document.
"If you didn't want me to stare, you wouldn't be there in your underwear," Brock replied, lifting his own shirt up and over his head. "You knew I had the day off."
That got Kai's attention. "What has you so riled?" He pushed his glasses up to his forehead.
"I saw her again today."
Kai set the folder down on his lap. "Who?"
"Our mate." Brock pulled his pants down.
Kai's eyebrows pulled down in a frown. "How are you so sure? I haven't even met this woman. Don't you think if she is our mate, I would have to approve first?"
Brock never blinked as he approached the side of the bed, staring into Kai's endless brown eyes. "You're going to love her. I know it. Put the papers down," he ordered, this time, letting free that growl he'd been holding in for so long. Seeing Francesca had him all wound up; coming home to Kai nearly naked was the last straw. His cock was so hard, he thought he could feel it pulsating in time with his heartbeat.
Wolf's Mate Mpreg Romance Box Set Page 67