Mike [Wounded Hearts 2] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Fel Fern

  Mike narrowed his eyes. “You offered to buy me coffee instead. Why?”

  “I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get to know you better. Besides, a lot of restaurants in town are looking for waiters.”

  “You don’t sound that enthusiastic. What other jobs are you looking for?”

  “I never intended to stay in town this long. My brother was supposed to come pick me up. God. I sounded like a kid, didn’t I?”

  “It’s okay. I have no right asking these kinds of questions anyway. Let’s enjoy the evening instead.”

  Relieved, Bowen nodded. He quickly ran a comb through his hair, put on shoes and announced he was ready. They exited the motel.

  “You’ve been here for a month?” Mike asked, glancing at the motel with furrowed brows.

  Bowen could understand the feeling. Dismay filled him when he saw the peeling paint and faded sign. If the exterior looked this bad, the interior must be worse, but it wasn’t like he stayed in worse places before. Being on the road with his brother, they couldn’t afford to be picky. When cash was steep, they’d sleep in the car. If the weather turned cold, they’d shift to lynx form.

  “I thought I’d only needed to stay here for a week.”

  “Sorry. No more questions.”

  “It’s okay. I like talking to you.”

  “I parked my car over here.”

  For a second, he halted, blinking. “You can drive? Shit. I didn’t mean it that way,” he quickly said, then noticed Mike wore two shoes. A prosthetic?

  “It’s fine. I seldom use the prosthetic. I’ve learned to drive with it.” Mike took out his car keys and he wondered if he should offer to drive.

  No, Mike would be offended, because Mike already mentioned he seldom wore it. He walked around the car.

  “Can I do anything to help?” he asked, uncertain. He asked despite knowing Mike would want to do it himself. Alphas were proud by nature, and Mike didn’t need him hovering around or fussing like some concerned mother hen. So he waited, nerves on high alert in case Mike needed him.

  Mike gritted his teeth, and to with some effort managed to slide in.

  “Wow,” he whispered. “You’re awesome. I mean it.”

  Mike stared at him for a couple of seconds, before saying, “Can you help me put the crutches in the back seat?”

  He nodded, doing as Mike asked before running to the passenger seat. He slid in.

  “Does that mean you can walk without the crutches eventually, with the prosthetics I mean?” he asked then wanted to punch himself again for being insensitive. “Sorry. People say I talk too much.”

  “I don’t mind and it’s a good question. I never bothered. The thought of wearing this thing appalled me so much, reminded me of my missing paw, that I only wore it if I needed to drive.” Mike started the engine. “Where to?”

  “Um. How about Red’s Steak House? I heard its good there.”

  Mike snorted. “That’s a tourist trap. I’ll take you to Brick’s and it’s my treat.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “Let me. You already treated coffee, and I don’t get out often either so this is special to me, too.”

  He relented, possibly because he was broke and that word “special,” tugged at his heart strings. “Okay, but I’m getting the bill next time.”

  “Next time?” Mike raised his eyebrows. “You asking me on a second date this soon, little cat, and we haven’t even had our first?”

  He blushed. Little cat. He kind of liked that nickname. No one ever gave him one before.

  Thank God, he recovered swiftly. “So you’re saying ‘no’?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Feeling deflated, he sat back. The car smelled nice, like Mike.

  “Don’t misunderstand, little cat. I’m not refusing you, but you have to see what kind of package you’re getting, and I’m not exactly datable material.”

  He let out a hiss of annoyance. “Why do you keep putting yourself down?”

  Mike growled. “You’re clearly blind, foolish, or a combination of both.”

  That pissed him off a little, but he knew Mike might just be on the defensive. The tiger shifter already admitted he didn’t go out much. “Well, your conversation skills certainly need improvement, but we can work on that.”

  “How the hell can you be so positive?”

  “Because I can’t let negativity weigh me down. Outlook matters, you know?” He debated telling Mike a little more about himself. “Mike, before things turn serious, I need to tell you something.”

  Chapter Four

  Mike grew silent, serious at his words so Bowen knew he had the tiger shifter’s attention now. “What if you’re wrong, and it’s me who isn’t right for you?”

  “Are you talking about your situation?”

  Bowen stilled. “What do you know about it?”

  “You travel light, mentioned you were waiting for your brother. You in some kind of trouble?”

  Shocked, Bowen couldn’t say for a couple of seconds.

  “I’m a trained soldier, ex-soldier,” Mike corrected. “Observing details is part of my training and yet you still went out with me and I’m guessing you shared aspects of your personal life that wasn’t meant for my ears.”

  Mike could guess all that? Then again, Bowen hadn’t exactly been subtle. At the first sign of trouble, Bowen usually ran for the exit. Not too late to make up a lame excuse, to bolt but where would that lead? Bowen would be back in his miserable hotel room, biting his nails, wondering why his brother hadn’t called, why he’d been so goddamn stupid to end things with Mike.

  “I don’t know why, but I feel safe with you,” he finally said. “Neither of us is running, nor making excuses. Doesn’t that mean something?”

  “You shouldn’t be. I might be broken, but my tiger’s dangerous.”

  “Your tiger would never hurt me.”

  “So confident of that?” Mike said softly. “Months ago, I watched two of my friends, members of my former unit, nearly kill each other because they lost control of their animals. They’re like me, no longer whole, but our beasts became different after the war.”

  “You don’t trust your animal?” Bowen asked.

  “I can’t even trust myself to shift, because I know I might never return to human form.”

  The reality of Mike’s situation finally sunk in. Mike wasn’t fully in control of his tiger and for a dominant shifter to admit that, meant it was worse than Bowen thought. Then it struck him.

  Here they were, sharing secrets, trying to scare each other away, for fear of what?

  “But you’re still here. You’re stronger than you think,” he finally said. They drove past closed shops, the town cinema, and turned into a smaller road, lined with bars and restaurants.

  “Little cat, I wonder how long that optimism could last, how long until you realize you’re not safe with me.”

  “Stop trying to scare me off.”

  “I’m not running away. Simply stating facts. Better to have the truth out in the open, yes?” There was a silent challenge in Mike’s glacial blue eyes. If this was some kind of test to see if he’d stick around, then Bowen was game.

  Mike found a parking space on the side of the road. Bowen peered out of the window to see Brick’s was a steakhouse and bar. When he opened the car door, the tantalizing scent of cooking meat filled his nostrils. His stomach growled, reminding him his last meal had been breakfast, one measly ham sandwich.

  “Hungry?” Mike asked.

  “Well, yeah. I can eat.”

  “Good. Come on.” Mike led him to the entrance.

  Country music played inside and the place was packed. For a second, the place overwhelmed him. The skin between his shoulder blades prickled, his lynx warning him most of the people there were shifters, and not the non-predatory sort either. It seemed the townsfolk there knew Mike because some nodded his way and greeted him, even if Mike mentioned he didn’t go out much.

  Bowen stuck close
to Mike. He would never go into a place filled with dominant shifters on his own. A good thing, too, because looking at the gigantic servings made his stomach rumble again. If Mike was treating, he wasn’t going to let good food go to waste. He planned on filling his stomach. A waitress, who seemed to know Mike, led them to an empty table by the back.

  “So what’s good?” he asked, grabbing the menu.

  “I usually get the tenderloin,” Mike said, setting his crutch by the wall. “And a side of macaroni and cheese, and mashed potatoes.”

  “I want whatever he’s getting,” he told the waitress, who gave him a curious look before taking their orders down.

  Thankfully, the rest of the evening turned out more mellow. Mike and he talked about less serious topics. Mike seemed reluctant to talk about what he did in the army, but Bowen wasn’t surprised. He had a feeling Mike was part of a special ops team and besides, he didn’t press. Mike seemed to be more animated though when he talked about the men he worked with and considered brothers, and in return, he told Mike all he had was Brad for the longest time.

  They also talked about favorite movies, hobbies, and moved onto interesting town events.

  “When I first arrived here, I was overwhelmed by a number of town events. There’s that monthly pie baking contest and there’s even a hot dog eating contest next week. What’s with that?”

  Mike looked amused. “I never go to these things, but Abram’s mate always drags him to those.”

  Abram was Mike’s former unit commander, and a man Mike really respected, from what he’d gathered.

  “Maybe,” he ventured. “We can go together to the hot dog event next week.”

  “You like hot dogs?”

  “Don’t you? Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to a town event. We used to have those back in my hometown, but I never went. Growing up, I was too busy studying. It was all I could do, since my brother was working hard.”

  “All right then.”

  Finally, their food arrived and for the next few moments, he did nothing but eat.

  “God, Mike. This steak is amazing,” he said, mouth full of steak and potato. He realized Mike stopped eating to watch him. Embarrassed, he set his fork down.

  “Don’t stop on my account. It’s nice to see a date with a good appetite.”

  “Do you go on dates much?” He didn’t know why he sounded a little jealous, but the thought of Mike with someone else made his lynx a little mad.

  “No. You’re my first.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Since your discharge? I’m sorry to hear that. How am I doing so far?”

  Mike fiddled with his steak knife. “I never dated, never saw the need to. I signed up for the army right after high school, before that, it was just hook-ups. Sex was good, but relationships seemed a lot of work. But I realized it wasn’t enough for a man to go on, and shifters, unlike other supernatural species, require touch.”

  “Tell me about it,” he muttered. “Well, that’s fine. We’re both alike in that sense then, both new to this.”

  “I’m amazed you can spin a positive light to almost anything.”

  “Are you making fun of me?” he demanded.

  “No, I admire you. Being around you is like being around the sun, and I’ve been in the shadows all my life. It’s nice.”

  Mike blushed at the compliment.

  “Anyway, don’t let me interrupt. Eat. If you’re still up for dessert, they make good pie à la mode, too.”

  “I like pies and ice cream.”

  The rest of dinner went well, but he was sorry time seemed to fly when he was with Mike. After Mike paid for their bill, they started walking toward the exit, but a beefy shifter in a plaid shirt and torn jeans in his late thirties barred the path.

  “Handsome little thing you have with you, cripple.” The shifter sounded and smelled drunk, and it took massive amounts of alcohol for one of their kind to become inebriated. “Why don’t I take the little kitty off your hands? I’m sure I can show him a better time.”

  A chill went down his spine. He sucked in a breath, amazed at the audacity of the drunk. Mike let out a growl and the tiger shifter blurred. The crutches made a soft thump on the wooden floorboards. Before he could protest, Mike tackled the guy to the ground, one hand around the drunk’s meaty neck, fingers partially shifted to sharp claws, drawing pinpricks of blood. The entire bar went silent. Mike let out a terrifying growl that seemed to make the floorboards vibrate.

  So fast. How could Mike move that fast, given he was such a big guy? Jesus, Mike was deadly, too, and Mike was already missing a leg. What was Mike like, when he was whole?

  “Say that word to my face again, asshole,” Mike said in a calm but deadly voice. The shifter underneath struggled, cursed, and kicked, but to no avail. Then Mike dragged those claws down the drunk’s chest and paused by the groin area. The drunk finally lost bravado and whimpered.

  “Mike, I’m so sorry about my brother. He’s new in town,” said a brown-haired man who quickly intervened. “He didn’t mean any harm.”

  “He insulted Mike, and owes him an apology,” Bowen said.

  The new shifter glanced at him. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Mike’s date.” He puffed up his chest, tried to look intimidating, although he had a feeling he was doing a poor job. The last thing he wanted was to get Mike in trouble.

  “Mike,” another man said, the tag on this shifter read “manager” under his name, “Arnold.” “There’s no need to shed any blood. I’m sure you don’t want your date to spend the rest of the night, miserable and alone while you rot in a jail cell.”

  Arnold’s words seemed to take effect, because Mike relented. Bowen quickly picked up the crutches, offering them to Mike, who gave him a silent nod. Thankfully, the drunk and his brother wisely got out of their way.

  Chapter Five

  Mike could have killed that bastard foolish enough to insult his tiger. He didn’t blame Bowen for not saying anything on the drive back to the motel. The little lynx was probably frightened of him now. Before he walked inside Bowen’s hotel room, he’d wanted that—to scare Bowen enough that the little cat would stay away. In a way, Mike was testing to see how far he could push Bowen, how willing Bowen was willing to stick.

  In the end, the dinner turned out better than planned. Bowen seemed to enjoy both the food and the company. Even better, they’d made plans for a date number two. Mike could hardly believe his luck because lately, the world seemed to have grudge against him.

  Then that asshole had to ruin everything. He disappointed Bowen and, more importantly, Mike disappointed himself by losing control. The last time he snapped like that had been on the last day he’d still been whole, when planes dropped bombs over their military encampment, bombs containing silver fragments.

  One man in their unit died, but for a while, he thought Larry lucked out, while the rest of them had to return, broken and fucked-up. Mike swore he’d put that nightmare from his mind, but he dreamt of it often and ended up waking up screaming most nights. Still, he remembered how good it was, to let his tiger do the driving, to let that drunk get what he deserved. Mike had been this close to killing the fool, too, except he saw Bowen’s face pale, scared.

  Maybe Bowen didn’t think he’d been capable of violence, but Bowen didn’t understand. Mike attacked the drunk because the drunk thought Bowen was his for the taking. Mike didn’t care about insults, he’d heard his share of them and learned to turn them off. Bowen though, Bowen was his.

  Shit. Mike couldn’t think of the lynx shifter in those terms. Hell, he’d screwed this up so badly, he doubted Bowen would want anything to do with him. Mike had no idea what kind of trouble Bowen was in, but he had a feeling Bowen had been hurt before. That was the last thing he wanted. What if one day, he couldn’t control his tiger and ended up doing the unthinkable and hurting Bowen?

  “Mike? We passed the motel’s street,” Bowen said in a timid voice.

  “Shit. Sorry.” Mike turn
ed the car, but the hairs on his arms rose when Bowen tentatively reached out.

  “Can you stop the car, please?”

  He snarled at the request. Bowen would walk out of his car and soon, exit his life. He hadn’t known how much he craved Bowen’s company until Mike had a glimpse of what his life would be like, if he hadn’t met Bowen. Just a day and Bowen already made him smile, helped him remember why life was worth living. Food had even become tasteless to him, and yet seeing Bowen eating with gusto spurred his physical hunger, and the second deadlier kind.

  Mike wasn’t a prick though, so he stopped the car by the side of the road, waited for Bowen to leave without saying good-bye, but Bowen didn’t move, which puzzled him.

  “Can we talk about what happened just now?”

  “I lost my temper. End of story. Now get out.”

  Bowen looked hurt. “You’re angry at me.”

  It sounded more like a statement than a question. Mike let out a breath.

  “No, I’m angry at myself. The last time I snapped like that…” Mike trailed off and shook his head. He didn’t want his mind to transport him back to that place, to the burning campsite and the memory of pain.

  “It was an accident, right? It doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s not as simple as that, little cat. I understand if you get out right now and forget you met me.”

  “Jesus Christ. Are you always this self-absorbed?”

  Bowen’s words took him back. “Excuse me?”

  Bowen let out a huff. “You’re so frustrating and you keep assuming I’ll leave. Have you ever considered the fact that you’re the one who’s tempted to run away?”

  He snarled. Little cats should behave in presence of a bigger predator. Oh, he didn’t mind teaching this sassy lynx some lessons in humility. Shit. No. Bowen didn’t want to do anything with him, or was the little cat right, and Mike was the one afraid to take a step into uncharted waters?

  Mike decided he needed to do the adult thing and concede. “Fine. I’ll promise to do better next time. Can I drive you back home?”

  “Thank you and no, you owe me.”