by Holley Trent
“What is your type?” she asked. “Asking for a friend.”
“You mean your grandson.” Belle grinned and poured Minnie some coffee. People were always trying to set her up with their sons, grandsons, and nephews. Sometimes it was flattering, other times ... not so much. “And no thank you. No offense, but Julio and I don’t get along.”
“You don’t get along with anyone, from what I hear. Typical for girls your age. I was the same way.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure you liked your mate at least a little before you decided to have a go with him.”
There were mates, and then there were true mates. Most shifters never found their true mates, and they didn’t hold out waiting for them. The Cougars could implore Lola to help them find them, but that always came with a cost, at least for the males. If the mates she chose for them refused them, they’d be cursed. Lola had sent Belle’s brothers out on a mate hunt before they were even ready for them. It had worked out in the end, but they’d certainly made things hard for themselves. Personally, Belle liked the idea of having a little guidance in picking a mate. Eventually, she wanted to stop playing the field and settle down with some nice guy, but he needed to be right. Female Cougars had a propensity to keep their mates once they’d committed, even if those men later turned out to useless sacks of shit. They’d try to fix them, and most of the time, it was pointless.
“So, what’s your type?” Clovis asked.
Belle put her free hand on her hip and chewed the inside of her mouth for a moment. “Well, let’s see. Gainfully employed is a good start.”
The ladies grunted.
“Doesn’t live with his mom and dad.”
They grunted yet again.
“Not blond. I don’t like pale hair on men.”
Or red hair. Not that she was self-hating at all, but she couldn’t look at a redheaded man and not think of one of her brothers.
She shuddered.
“Gotta be taller than me,” she added.
“That’s a given if you’re talking about Cougars,” Clovis said. “I don’t know any short Cougars, unless they’re ones who’ve been turned.”
Minnie tugged Belle’s sleeve. “Don’t just limit yourself to Cougars. You’ll be waiting around for Mr. Right forever.”
No kidding. Belle crossed her eyes and quickly righted them. The lack of eligible candidates in the Cougar population was just one of many reasons she didn’t date seriously. “Also, he’s gotta be smart.”
The ladies groaned.
“Yeah, see? Big problem, especially with the pretty ones.”
Most male cats had a certain something about them that made them quite nice to look at, but they tended to be prettier on average than other shifter groups. At least, in Belle’s opinion. All the Coyotes she knew were all rough and angular.
“And of course, it wouldn’t hurt if he weren’t insufferably annoying.”
“Well, you’re gonna die lonely,” Clovis said.
“Gee, thanks.” Belle sighed. The lady was probably right. Belle was too picky, even when her inner cat wasn’t. “I’m going to go see what the holdup is with your fruit salad. It’s not like the cook had to go to Hawaii to handpick a pineapple or anything.”
“If you’re out of fruit, bring me bacon.”
“You can’t have bacon. Don’t try to pull that on me.”
Clovis muttered under her breath.
Belle made her way back around to the counter and found Alex conversing with Steven yet again.
She growled at them, and Alex rolled her eyes.
“Come on, Belle. The breakfast rush is over, and we have a couple of hours of thumb-twiddling before the regular lunch crew shows up.”
“You mean the time we’re supposed to use to clean stuff?”
“How long does that usually take us?”
“Not long at all, but still.”
Steven pushed his plate away and wrapped one of his large mitts around his orange juice cup.
There was something about a man with big hands that always made Belle a little swoony.
You know he’s hitting all the right buttons for a reason, dontcha? her inner cat taunted. He was on the sofa all night, and you didn’t touch him. Stupid.
Belle turned her head away and said quietly through clenched teeth, “Shut up.”
“If I’m in the way,” Steven said, “I can go sit at one of those tables by the windows.”
“Yeah. Why don’t you go do that?” Belle said. Anything, so she wouldn’t have to pass him and rile up the cat in her every time she needed to go into the kitchen.
“No,” Alex said. “Satellite radio’s busted, and I need some stinkin’ entertainment. Steven’s telling me all about fun redneck stuff.”
Belle groaned. “Gods, like what?”
“Like mudding.”
“What the hell is that?”
“Basically—”
The cook hit the bell and slid table six’s order across the pass-through. “Order up!”
Belle grabbed the fruit salad and all the rest and carried it to the geriatric Cougars. “All right, girls. Eat up and let me know if you need anything else.”
Minnie opened her mouth, and Belle wagged an index finger at her. “Nuh-uh. Ask me for something I can actually bring you. In this case, the customer is not always right.”
“Jeez. We all thought your mother was a battle-ax. I think you’re meaner.”
“Aw, I’m just looking out for ya.”
Clovis worked her dentures with her tongue and shook her head. “Still.”
“Oh, you love me,” Belle said as she walked away.
“I’d love you more if you let me have some bacon. And caffeine.”
Belle slipped around the counter yet again and, this time, grabbed the broom. Pausing in front of Alex and Steven, she sighed. “So. Mudding. I imagine that’s not some kind of redneck spa treatment.”
“Nah,” Steven said. “You need a truck and an open field after it rains. Basically, you go out and try to hit every big mud hole and make as big a splash as possible.”
“To what end?”
“To no end, sugar. You get your truck dirty, and it’s fun, going fast and freaking out a little when all that mud covers your windshield and you can’t see shit until your wipers catch up.”
“Sounds like a waste of gas.”
He shrugged. “It’s a cheap thrill.”
“I guess it would be for folks who got more than a couple of inches of rain per month.”
“Rain’s overrated,” Alex said, straightening up. “When I went to Galveston last year, it stormed the whole time we were there. My hair looked great because of the humidity, but when I came back, all of a sudden my body decided it didn’t like how dry it was here. I kept a bloody nose for two days.”
“Well, at least you got to go.”
“What’s stopping you from going anywhere?”
Belle scoffed and counted off on her fingers. “One, been busy with all the glaring drama. Two, I’m broke.”
“Broke” wasn’t quite accurate. Belle had a little money in savings, but she couldn’t touch it. It wasn’t there for vacations or temporary thrills. It was for her move, whenever she could make it happen. She thought she was pretty close. Once she had enough saved, there remained the small matter of telling Mason she needed to transfer into a different glaring. She’d been looking into the one in Washington State. They were a large group, but pretty mellow. Mason wasn’t going to be happy. Probably, none of her family would be, but she had to spread her wings. She couldn’t do that with all those Foyes breathing down her neck.
“When’s the last time you went anywhere?” Steven asked, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at his phone screen, his expression a neutral blank.
“Anywhere worth mentioning? I don’t know. Before my dad died, probably. So ... at least five years. Why?”
“Want to take a quick field trip?”
“I’m working.”
Alex gave
her a hard poke.
“Ow!” Belle glared at her. “What was that for?”
“You were supposed to ask, ‘field trip to where?’”
Belle huffed. “Okay. Field trip to where?”
“Not far, actually.” Steven set the phone facedown on the counter and picked up his juice glass. He took a long draw, draining the rest, and fixed his intense gaze on Belle.
The cat part of her was thinking something along the lines of hello, precious, as if he were her next big meal or some bauble she needed to collect.
A six-foot-tall bauble.
I’m so screwed.
Being so close, how could she not just look at him? He did hit all the right buttons.
Hannah had the dark eyes, too, but she was super blonde. Belle had always thought it was an interesting contrast. Apparently, the Welch siblings were split half and half. Two blond, two dark. She liked Steven’s combination very much. She bet the sun was very kind to him with that coloring.
You know who else could be kind to him? the inner cat chided.
Again, Belle turned her head and whispered, “Shut up.” Maybe if it came out of her mouth and hit her ears a few times, that thing in her brain that was animal would actually pay attention. Obviously, internal debate wasn’t doing the job.
“What time?” Alex asked, obviously because Belle hadn’t.
Oh, that’s right. Field trip. Belle tugged her gaze away from him and worked her rag over a spot of syrup on the counter.
“Whenever. No need to hurry. They’re probably not going anywhere.”
“Who?” Belle asked, now curious.
“The Sheehans. The Coyotes stumbled onto them while out on a ride.”
“No kidding?” Belle’s jaw dropped.
The Sheehans had been the glaring’s shit stain for more generations than she could count. They always wanted to be in charge, and no one would let them be. Edgar Sheehan and his friends had challenged Mason a few times for the alpha role, but they always lost. Mason was La Bella Dama’s chosen alpha for the glaring, and he was just going to be hard to beat, anyway, because he was a Foye. The Foyes had an unbroken line of Cougars on their father’s side, and that made them unusual. More powerful, supposedly, though Belle didn’t know exactly what that meant for her. Being female, it wasn’t like she was going to walk into a room and throw her weight around. She could never challenge an alpha. All she could do was run fast and sometimes soothe moods, on the rare occasion she remembered that she could.
Alex refilled Steven’s coffee. “I thought you guys were on the outs with the Coyotes.”
“We are,” Belle said. “Well, were. I think whatever shock and awe routine Mason pulled on them last month must have worked. They’ve left us alone since then and haven’t been picking fights. I also think Jill had might have had a little something to do with smoothing things over.”
“Jill? Mason’s son’s mother?”
“Yeah. When I last went to pick Nick up, she—”
Why are they staring at me like that?
Steven’s brow was furrowed, and Alex had walked around the counter to stand next to him and wore an expression of concern.
“What?” Belle asked.
“You all right?” Steven asked softly.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’ve been standing there like that for three or four minutes. Alex had to grab one of your tables.”
Belle scanned the small diner and found that the occupants of table two were gone, and money waited on top of the check. “Shit,” she whispered. She drew in a long breath and fisted the pockets of her apron. “Not again.”
“Does that happen a lot? That happened last night, didn’t it?”
She shrugged noncommittally and put the broom back in the corner. I’ve got to get this shit under control. She grabbed a bin for the dirty dishes instead and walked to the table.
She must have been trapped in her own thoughts, because she didn’t sense Steven walking behind her. She started at his appearance in her periphery, nearly dropping the coffee mugs she’d picked up.
He took them out of her hands and finished clearing the table. “Wipe that down, and then we’ll go. Alex will cover for you until lunchtime.”
“No, I can’t just—can’t leave early.”
“You’re just taking a long lunch. As soon as Hannah gets here with Tito and Sean, we’re going to go fetch the Sheehans.”
Hannah and Tito. The glaring’s avenger and one of its sentries. The fact Mason would send them instead of fetching the traitors himself spoke to his trust of them. Belle’s oldest brother had always lacked skill with delegating, but with Ellery’s help, he was getting better at it. True mates always made their men better. The opposite was supposedly true, too, but Belle didn’t see how that could possibly be the case.
“Why do I need to go?” Belle asked Steven’s retreating back and immediately regretted it. She knew why—because he needed to go with Hannah, and Belle needed to be watched. She didn’t want to be reminded.
“Makes sense to have a lookout,” he said, when she rounded the counter with the bill and the cash. “Mason doesn’t think the Coyotes are going to pull anything funny, but in case they do, it’s good strategy to hold back someone to make sure their activity is communicated to Mason.”
“So basically, if you all get into a fight, I get to run for help.”
“Yeah, help for the Coyotes.”
Belle furrowed her brow.
“Don’t worry about us,” he said, his smile skipping right over soothing and going straight to dangerous and sexy. Her inner cat like that very much.
Damn it.
If he kept that up while she was in that conquer-and-fuck state, she wasn’t going to be able to stay away from him. He’d already said he didn’t want her, so she couldn’t allow her mind to go to the place, even if she were willing to get temporarily attached.
“If they pick a fight, it may very well be for the last time.” He didn’t move his lips very much when he talked, which likely contributed to that lazy southern twang of his, but she watched them all the same. The pink of them. The way they pulled up on one side when he grinned. She pondered if the beard beneath them was soft or if it’d be prickly.
I bet it’s soft.
“Have you ever seen your avenger in a fight?” he asked.
“Huh?” It took her a moment to unpack his words. She’d been looking at him without actually hearing him. Needing less stimulation, she closed her eyes. That didn’t help. With that sense turned off, scents seemed stronger. Even amid the pungent diner aromas of coffee, breakfast meats, and so much bread, his masculine scent overwhelmed.
Need to get away from him.
And she did take a step away after opening her eyes. “Yes. I’ve seen Hannah fight. She’s scary.”
“Well, it’s hereditary. I may not be a Cougar, but I’m scary when I want to be, too.” He gave her name badge a little flick.
She watched him carry the bin to the kitchen.
“Ditch the apron, sweetie pie. Here come the troops now.”
“Don’t call me sweetie pie,” she called after him, too late and too apathetically.
She didn’t care if he called her sweetie pie or any other silly name, for that matter.
She kind of liked it. No one who’d lived in town long enough would have been brave enough to call her anything but her name. In spite of her inner cat’s glee, it didn’t mean anything. He was just poking at the hissing cat, and she knew that eventually, she would bite.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Take these motherfuckers and get the hell out of my sight, man. It’s too damn hot in the desert to be messing around.” The Coyote alpha gave a freckle-faced teen a shove toward Hannah, which made the boy stumble over a patch of low sagebrush.
Steven stood near a big rock and watched, bemused, at his snarling little sister who grabbed the kid by the collar and pulled him to her.
He whimpered as she got in his
face.
“You. Little. Shit,” she spat. “You came this close to scratching up my friend when you infected me. It’s one thing to come at me. I’m a big girl, and I can fight when I have to. Miles is an easy target. If you were eighteen, I’d kick your ass from here to the Grand Canyon and then maybe accidentally lose you in the bottom of it.”
Sean leaned in close to Steven and whispered, “That’s Ralphie. That’s the kid who accidentally mauled her earlier in the summer. He’s the reason she’s a Cougar.”
Steven let out a breath and gave the brim of his cap a squeeze while he pondered. “You think maybe you should ... mitigate things?”
Sean shrugged. “My job’s to keep her from going berserk. She’s not there yet.” He walked into the huddle of filthy, leather-clad Coyotes and grabbed another guy by the collar. “Edgar, Edgar, Edgar.”
“Fuck off, Foye.”
“Go ahead and run your mouth.” Sean gave him a hard shove toward the trucks. “I’ve been itching to put a fist through your head for the better part of ten years, and I don’t think Mason will care one way or another if my hand slips and puts a new hole in your face.”
“Come on,” the Coyote alpha said, waving them on and gesturing to the older couple tied together in the center of the clump. “Get them, too. I want them out of here, so we can get out of here. We’re trespassing. Ain’t trying to get none of my pack shot up by an angry rancher. Let’s finish this. I’m wiping my hands clean of everything. We’re square, you hear that, Jill? We’re even now.”
Jill.
Steven scanned the cluster of unwashed dogs and saw a lady making her way through. She stood in front of the alpha and cut her gaze toward Sean’s retreating figure.
Steven had heard the lady’s name before, but had never seen her in the flesh. She was Mason’s son’s mother. She’d relented in letting Mason keep Nick because she was unsuited to have custody of him. She’d gone against her alpha to do it, but Mason was under no illusion Jill wouldn’t change her mind on a whim. Apparently, Coyotes were flighty that way.
“Huh,” Tito said, rubbing the sparse scruff on his chin. “Wonder what she did.”
“We’ll find out later. Come on. Is that Dr. Sheehan and his wife?”