by Parker Foye
Jim blinked. Swallowed.
Teddy?
Teddy backtracked to the thermostat and peered at the display. “Seventy-eight? Why?” He poked at the down button, but Jim knew that wouldn’t do anything. It hadn’t worked in days.
Jim cleared his throat and scrambled to his feet.
Teddy’s here?
He patted down his hair and rubbed crust out of his eyes. He hadn’t moved much in the past few days except to handle the bare minimum of chores. He checked the personnel grid to make sure coyotes were posted at their territory scouting positions at the right time, but did that without interaction. Looking in mirrors had been more or less out of the question. “Uh, it’s...broken. Someone took a sledgehammer to the central air unit outside.”
Turning, Teddy pushed up an eyebrow. “A Polish-speaking someone, maybe?”
Jim shrugged. “Smelled to me like her or someone related to her, but I didn’t have enough give-a-damn to follow up.”
Teddy’s nod came slowly. He made his way back across the room, this time all the way. He stopped in front of Jim, pulled his hands out of his sweatshirt pocket and crossed his arms. “I guess you still need managing.”
“Yeah. I do.”
Teddy pulled his lips between his teeth and nodded.
Jim couldn’t help himself. He had to touch his mate—had been craving the feel of him for two weeks—but Teddy hadn’t been there. Jim hadn’t known if he’d ever see him again or even hear his voice. Teddy hadn’t answered his phone. But there he was.
Teddy.
“You came on your own?” Jim asked, twisting a length of Teddy’s hair around his index finger.
“No.”
Oh.
Jim had been hoping he’d want to come back just because he missed him, but maybe that had been too much of a fantasy. Jim pulled his hand away, but Teddy grabbed it.
“You don’t have the right to be pitiful.”
“What?”
“You don’t get to stand here and be pitiful and pathetic. You dragged me into this shit and didn’t tell me a damn thing about what was around me. You asked me to trust you, and I did because you’d never lied to me, but come on, Jimmy.” He squeezed Jim’s hand, and to Jim, it felt like a lifeline—like he’d been dangling over a ledge waiting for someone to grab him up, but that someone wasn’t coming. “This is a lot.”
“I know it is.”
“I came back here because when I told you I wanted to give this a shot, I meant it. I can’t remember the last time I was so comfortable with someone. No, more than that—so happy with someone. We could make a good team, couldn’t we?”
“Yeah, we could.”
“This is something I’ve got to adjust to. This isn’t normal. You know that, right?”
“Of course I do. I didn’t want to drop all that shit on you at once. I wanted to maybe feed you a little bit over time. Hints here and there until you were too invested to leave me. I’ve never wanted anyone so much. I thought maybe I wasn’t cut out to get a mate and that maybe I wasn’t a good enough alpha because I didn’t sense that pull my folks said I’d feel. I didn’t feel like I had to have anyone but you.” He couldn’t possibly have been the only alpha to have a crisis of self-esteem where his mate was concerned, but he’d never felt lower than when Teddy had been away.
Teddy furrowed his brow. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t going to come. Jamie and your mother, they tracked me down or followed me or...” He shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know. What do Co—Co—” He scoffed, then swallowed, as if the sound he’d been trying to make had left a nasty taste in his mouth. “Coyotes. What do coyotes do when they need to track people?”
“Depends on the coyote and on how strong they are. How much magic they have. I could have tracked you the fastest if I’d been able to leave, and I wanted to so fucking badly, Ted. Sitting here waiting and not being able to do anything... I wanted say ‘fuck it.’ Walk away from everything and let the pack fend for itself.”
“Magic.”
Jim let his fangs deploy all the way and spread his lips in a grin he couldn’t put his heart into. “Magic. It’s the stuff that makes me howl at the moon sometimes. It drives my urges and triggers behaviors that aren’t human.”
“You’re dangerous.”
“Understatement, but here you are.”
Teddy performed his trademarked slow nod. “Yep. Here I am. The funny thing is there’s something comforting in knowing that while there may be terrifying things in the world that I don’t understand, there’s a man with...fangs and...” He swallowed. “Fur who can probably deal with it.”
“Yep.”
“They say no one beats you. Jamie and your mother, I mean.”
“I think mostly people aren’t stupid enough to try to.”
“So what are you doing, holing up here?” Teddy waved demonstrably to the room around them. “What is this talk about you walking away?”
“Maybe I’m getting tired of it.”
“Just like that.”
Jim shrugged.
He didn’t have a better answer, at least nothing mundane. Some of his behavior could be attributed to the fact that he was a lovesick canine and all he wanted to do was lie under a tree and howl, but he didn’t think Teddy would go for that.
Teddy canted his head toward the door.
“What?”
“Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“To get some dinner. Come on. Get your shoes on.”
Jim got moving. He shambled to the door and stood his boots up.
Teddy was waiting on the mat with his arms crossed, tapping his foot. “Much cooler outside than it is in here. You could have at least opened a window.”
“Sorry.”
Teddy loaded him into the passenger seat of his own damned truck and drove them to the pancake house. Nothing else was open except the bar, and the thought of consuming any more booze made Jim’s stomach lurch.
“Need you to drive me to an audition tomorrow,” Teddy said as he swung the truck into the restaurant lot. “I hate driving in the city.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Not really, but a gig’s a gig, and it’s for a revival that’s having a limited run.”
“What’s that mean? You’ll be gone?” He’d just fucking gotten back.
“It means I’d be gone for a little while.” Teddy pulled up the parking brake and killed the engine. “A few weeks, and then I can do other work.” He added in a mutter, “For instance, file a police report about a vandalized central air unit. Maybe while I’m gone, you can get your shit together here.”
Jim blinked at him.
Teddy sighed. “You’re a seriously sorry puppy. Get out of the truck, Alpha.”
Jim got out.
He moved ploddingly across the lot, stopping dead when he noticed the row of motorcycles lined up in their usual spaces in front of the door.
Teddy gave him a nudge. “You may not be able to see them through that tinted glass, but they can most certainly see you. Don’t embarrass me,” he said without moving his lips. “Don’t act like you don’t want to be seen with me.”
“What?” The comment brought Jim up short and made him tug the back of Teddy’s shirt. “I’m not.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Jim’s swallow was loud. “If anyone were gonna challenge me, this would be a good time. I’m not really at my peak right now.”
Teddy sighed and nudged him again. “Fake it until you make it.”
“That’s not the way real life works.”
“Has worked for me about eighty-five percent of the time, and I think those are pretty good odds.”
Willa was at the podium as always, disinfecting men
us. She glared at Jim over the tops of her reading glasses. “How’s it goin’, blue balls?”
Jim looked down at his sorry sweatpants. “I’m not wearing tight leather today.”
She popped her gum and looked to Teddy. “Well, well. Look at you, only two weeks late for work.”
“Actually, I quit, per your suggestion. Remember?” He looked at Jim. “Do you want a menu, or are you going to eat the same shit you always do?”
“Same as always, I guess.”
“Then let’s leave Willa to her quiet sanctuary.” Teddy pulled him along, not giving him even a minute to get his wits about him or think of anything to say.
In seconds, they were in front of the four tables the crew always pushed together, and he looked at the coyotes without really seeing who was there. His vision blurred and heart pounded.
Someone pushed his chair against the linoleum floor and in his periphery, stood. “Oh good,” came the standing guy’s voice.
Jim forced his vision to focus and turned his gaze to Carter.
Carter grinned, showing off damn near every one of his teeth. “Since you’re here, you can pay.”
What?
Someone murmured agreement.
The coyotes all went back to eating as if Jim’s presence were inconsequential—as if he were some random asshole and not their emotionally unavailable alpha.
Maybe that’s for the best.
Jim looked toward the seat where he usually sat and saw that it was empty. He looked at Teddy.
Teddy nudged him with his elbow.
Jim cleared his throat. “You all...you all know Teddy.”
They grunted through their mouthfuls of pancake, and they didn’t look at him. Whether they just couldn’t or if they were too busy to, he didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to press.
“Teddy...” He rolled his eyes at himself. He didn’t sound like an alpha, or even a guy faking he was an alpha. He drew in a breath and straightened his spine. “Need a couple of you to help us move his things out of his apartment and into my house tomorrow. Should only take an hour or two.”
Carter sat and snatched up his fork. “You feeding us?”
“What, tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“I could, I guess. By the way, I don’t have air-conditioning right now. Someone busted up my central air.”
Owen Shea tore open about four packs of granulated sugar and dumped them into his coffee cup. “I can get you a deal on a new unit.”
“Did the unit fall off the back of a truck?” Teddy asked.
The group went very still again, as did Teddy. Jim could smell the spike of his adrenaline, but his face was his usual neutral mask.
Fake it until you make it.
Owen rolled his gaze up to Teddy, then to Jim, then shrugged.
Teddy breathed.
“I ain’t saying one way or another. Let’s just say it ain’t got a serial number.”
“Jesus Christ,” Teddy muttered.
Owen shrugged again.
The group laughed.
Shaking his head, Jim glanced around the table, playing close attention to who was and wasn’t there, noting the comfort with his proximity that meant they were content with the pack order and that their inner beasts were calm. He counted smiles and paid attention to who looked him in his eyes.
They all did, at least briefly.
He could trust them.
He didn’t want to think about Owen’s potentially illegal activities, though. He’d told Teddy the pack was law-abiding. Apparently, Owen needed watching.
“So...” Jim dragged a hand through his hair. “Anyone seen Harper? Jamie said he’s been missing his patrol shifts.”
If Jim saw him again, he was going to listen to the coyote inside him and attack without remorse. The man had brought in his fucking nephews to the full moon gathering, along with his niece, but they hadn’t gotten their chance to attack. Jamie had scared the girl away, and her brothers had followed. Perhaps she’d come to her senses and realized that no one was going to force Jim’s hand.
Yet again, they stopped eating.
Suspicious gazes flitted toward Carter, who cut his stack of pancakes into eight tidy wedges.
“Carter?”
Carter groaned. “Look. Maybe I wasn’t so comfortable with the stuff he was saying, and so maybe I called for a vote to have him expelled.”
“What?” Jim furrowed his brow. No one had done that since his father had been alive.
“Only takes ten votes. It’s in the bylaws.”
“I know the bylaws. The bylaws say you guys can only do shit like that behind my back when you think there’s a threat to—”
A threat to Jim.
Carter nodded curtly and cleared his throat.
They’d expelled Harper for Jim while he’d been at home licking his emotional wounds.
They annoyed the shit out of him on the best of days, but he couldn’t help but to be proud of them.
He sank heavily into his seat and tried not to go all misty-eyed.
Owen cleared his throat. “You want a cup of coffee or somethin’?”
“Here, Teddy.” Wallace Lowe reached back and pulled a chair from a nearby table. “You’ll think we don’t have manners.”
Teddy snorted. “You don’t. I’ve worked here long enough to know better.” He sat, though, and gave the guys a grin that was the perfect degree of hostile.
Jim knew then. The men at that table weren’t going to give Teddy a hard time. He’d have their heads tied up in knots even worse than he did to Jim. Jim didn’t need to worry about them. He needed to worry about the ones who weren’t there—the ones who didn’t speak until they had a threat to make. But he wasn’t going to worry about them yet. He had a mate to get settled, and—
“So, what exactly do you people do all night?” Teddy lifted the lid of the coffee carafe, peered into it and muttered something about half concentration.
Jim raised an eyebrow at him in warning.
Teddy rolled his eyes. “As I said, they use premeasured disks. Gotta double them up.”
“Patrol territory borders and, apparently, wait for stuff to fall off trucks,” Carter said, looking to Owen.
Owen raised his cup to his lips, stuck out his pinky and slurped his coffee loudly. “I run a reputable salvage business. Finders, keepers and such.”
“Are you a coyote or a Ferengi?” Teddy asked.
“What the hell is a Ferengi?”
“The Star Trek universe’s most notorious salvagers.” Teddy made air quotes while saying “salvagers.”
Owen pursed his lips and nodded. “I tend to be more of a Doctor Who kind of guy, but I could be convinced to stray.”
The entire table turned collectively to stare at him.
“What?” Owen asked.
Jim rubbed his chin and leaned back against the bench.
His inner circle chattered about television and films and weak pancake house coffee, and Teddy returned every comment tit for tat. He was trying hard. Actor though he may have been, Jim could tell he wasn’t in his element. His cheeks were too pink, and his hands shook a bit as he broke off a corner of Dirk’s toast, but the coyotes didn’t pay attention.
All that mattered to them was that there was an order to things and that their alpha had shown up.
“So,” Carter said, “about Jamie—”
“No,” Jim and Teddy said in chorus.
Jim cut him a look.
Teddy shrugged and, standing, grabbed the three coffee carafes from the table. “He’s too young for her.”
Carter sighed and shoved a pancake wedge into his mouth. “Dammit. Had to try.” He chewed thoughtfully for a while and then perked up. He called after Teddy
, who was at the beverage station brazenly brewing fresh coffee. “You got any friends? Maybe Alpha will approve one of them if no one else.”
“Sure. Actor friends.”
“Okay.”
“They’re all male.”
“And?”
Jim rested his chin atop his fist and raised an eyebrow at Carter.
“What?” Carter ate more pancakes. “I’m a coyote. I’m an opportunist. We’re wired that way.”
“That’s for sure,” Owen said. He leaned forward to see Jim. “So, you gonna take that central air unit or what?”
Jim looked to Teddy for guidance. He was better at making decisions.
Teddy shrugged and leaned against the counter. “I don’t know how I feel about secondhand appliances.”
“‘Secondhand’ is a cute way of putting it,” Jim muttered.
“Personally, I’d rather have a unit with a warranty, but I can’t fault him for trying.” Teddy studied his nails. “Guy’s gotta make a living, right?”
“See!” Owen reached over and gave Jim’s upper arm a punch. “You oughta listen to him. He knows stuff.”
“Yeah.” Jim leaned back in his seat and grinned at Teddy, who was giving Jim a coy look through the corners of his eyes. “He’s the smarter one of the pair of us. Alphas’ mates always are.” Teddy looked at him straight-on, eyes wide, as if he hadn’t expected Jim to say that.
There were so many things he wanted to say to him, but not there. Not around so many open ears. He owed him some words and a courtship that wasn’t crammed into a couple of days before a full moon. They didn’t need to rush anymore.
“And to think, you waited so long to find that out,” Teddy said after looking away and clucking his tongue.
Smart-ass.
“Keep on running your mouth, and I’ll decide to give you those tips you think I still owe you, and it won’t be loose change. It’ll be my fangs.”
The coyotes went quiet again. They looked from Teddy, to Jim, and back to Teddy, waiting for him to blush or to shrink away, probably.
He did blush, but he also narrowed his gaze and pressed a hand over his heart dramatically. “Not in public, James. Set a good example.” He winked and turned to the coffee.