by Paige Tyler
“Yeah, I know,” Max said, trying to sound casual. “It’s not a big deal.”
Gage lifted a brow. “Not a big deal? Really?”
Max wasn’t surprised his commander had followed him out here. Gage was the alpha of the Pack. He worried about all of his guys. But since pulling Max out of the downward spiral that his life had become after his family’s death, Gage had become more than his pack alpha. He was like a father to him.
Being the leader of a pack of headstrong alphas meant Gage frequently had to get physical with them. In some cases, there was simply no other way to get a jacked-up werewolf back in line. But because of Max’s background, Gage tended to be more proactive than reactive, putting a little extra effort into watching out for him and trying to make sure he didn’t get too out of control in the first place.
Not that Gage didn’t have to get physical with Max on occasion. Sometimes there was no way to avoid it. But Max knew that, unlike his real father, the SWAT team commander would never lay a hand on him if it wasn’t a crisis situation, and that made all the difference.
While this situation was nowhere near crisis mode, Gage was obviously worried about how Max would handle finding The One. Max supposed he couldn’t blame him. Some of the other members of the Pack who’d already found their soul mates had gotten themselves in a buttload of trouble in the process.
Xander had almost been kicked out of the Pack when he’d fallen for Khaki. Eric Becker had inherited an entire beta pack along with his mate, Jayna Winston. Landry Cooper had been blown out of a high-rise building for his wife, Everly. Alex Trevino had gotten suspended for his girlfriend, Lacey Barton. And Remy had run through the streets of New Orleans in wolf form in order to be with Triana. Hell, even Gage’s relationship with his wife, Mackenzie, had nearly ended in catastrophe, almost sending the entire Pack on the run to South America.
Up to this point, finding The One had come with a lot of problems for almost all the members of the Pack. It made sense Gage would want to keep the same thing from happening to Max. Then again, maybe Gage simply wanted to protect Max from getting hurt emotionally. Since Max hadn’t been in a serious relationship with a woman in his life—booty calls and one-night stands didn’t count—it wasn’t an irrational concern.
Max appreciated that, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Seriously, Sarge, it’s really not a big deal. I’m not a player like Remy used to be or an adrenaline junkie like Cooper, and I’m not going to do anything crazy like Alex and get suspended. I’m going to take my time with Lana and make sure the Pack is protected.”
“And if she is The One for you?” Gage prompted, a smile turning up the corners of his lips. “What then?”
Max almost said that any woman would have to be crazy to tie herself to him, but he stopped himself. “If someone as amazing as Lana is the woman I’m supposed to be with for the rest of my life, you’re not going to see me turning my nose up at her, if that’s what you’re asking. If Lana is The One, I’ll take it step by step, slow and easy.”
Gage let out a sound that was half snort, half growl. “Take it from someone who’s been there: if Lana turns out to be your soul mate, going step by step, not to mention slow and easy, might be tougher than you think. Make sure you focus on staying in control of yourself, for Lana’s sake if nothing else.”
His commander had a point there. Keeping his shift under control around Lana was going to be tough. But he’d do it.
“I will,” Max said. “I won’t do anything to risk the Pack.”
“I know,” Gage said. “One more thing before you go. Worrying about The One and how you’ll deal with that isn’t the only thing you need to think about. Keep in mind the woman you find so fascinating happens to be Deputy Chief Mason’s daughter. You screw this up, and you won’t just lose The One. You might end up losing your career, too.”
Chapter 2
“Man, this is good.” Max groaned as he took a big bite of his pepperoni pizza and chewed happily. “I can’t believe I never knew this place was here.”
Lana smiled as she took a much daintier bite of her slice of cheese pizza. She’d never thought watching a man eat could be sexy, but Max was proving her wrong. Then again, maybe it was the simple fact that everything about Max was sexy, from his handsome face to his mesmerizing blue eyes, to his muscular body and casually tousled, dark hair. The man was sinfully attractive and apparently had no idea. It also didn’t hurt that Max had a gorgeous smile that got her going every time he threw it her way. There was a bad boy hiding behind that disarming grin, she was sure of it. And while she thought he’d looked devastating in his dress uniform, he looked even better in jeans, work boots, a casual button-down shirt, and a leather jacket. In a word, he was smoking!
Max had picked her up right on time and they’d headed straight to Piggie Pies. Within minutes of getting in his Camaro, it felt like they’d been dating for months. Lana couldn’t believe how well they clicked. She’d been attracted to Max the moment she saw him at the awards ceremony, but it wasn’t until they’d started bantering and flirting that she knew she’d struck gold. If she’d known there were cute, athletic, interesting guys like him on the police force, she would have made the three-and-a-half-hour drive from Austin for every awards ceremony. Max and his fellow SWAT teammates alone represented more hunks per square inch than she’d seen in her lifetime. Then again, she’d spent the past five years going to college for science. There weren’t a lot of alpha types in the classes she’d taken.
Still, she had to wonder why her dad had always steered her away from any and all police functions. He had to know she’d be interested in guys who were as fit and charming as Max. But every time she’d come home during semester breaks, he’d made sure she stayed away from his office.
Well, she was going to make up for all that lost time now—with Max.
“I stumbled across Piggie Pies Pizza and Pasta a few years ago, and now I eat here whenever I’m back in town,” she said. “Their crust is so good, I think I could eat it plain. The pasta is awesome, too. And their veggie primavera is to die for.”
Max wiped his mouth with his napkin, then lifted his nose and sniffed the air. It was kind of an odd thing to do but also extremely cute. He’d asked her several times what she thought about certain aromas coming out of the kitchen, none of which she could pick up. He must have one heck of a good sense of smell.
“You’re right,” he said. “It smells delicious. Maybe I’ll try some of their carbonara, too.”
She couldn’t help laughing. For a guy as trim and well built as Max, he certainly ate a lot. While she’d ordered two slices of cheese pizza, he’d gotten an entire large pepperoni for himself and had already polished off three slices. She had no idea where he put it, but she had no doubt he could probably polish off a plate of carbonara with no problem.
“You probably can’t give me your recommendation on the carbonara, though, huh?” he asked. “Not with the whole bacon thing?”
She shook her head. “Nope, no bacon for me. But I’m sure it’s good.”
“You know, when you first made that crack about us both being pescatarian, I thought you were kidding. I hope I didn’t offend you.”
Lana smiled. This guy simply kept getting better and better. She vaguely remembered that part of the conversation they’d had back at DPD headquarters. She also remembered being a little confused, wondering what he’d meant by another of our kind. But then her dad had shown up, and she’d forgotten all about it. She considered asking Max about the comment now but decided against it. She’d probably misunderstood what he’d meant.
“No, I wasn’t offended,” she said. “Most people are caught off guard when I tell them I don’t eat meat.”
“Have you always been a pescatarian?” he asked, reaching for another slice of pepperoni. “Or is it a decision you made recently?”
“I’ve been one prett
y much my whole life,” she admitted, taking another nibble of her cheese pizza. “Mom is a pescatarian and I picked it up from her.”
“It doesn’t bother you that I eat meat, does it?”
“No, not at all. It’s not like a religious thing. I simply never developed the taste for meat.”
Max lifted a brow, making Lana wonder what she had said that was so shocking. When she abruptly realized the way her words had sounded, she laughed to keep from blushing. “I was not talking about that kind of meat and you know it! Don’t even go there, or I’m going to smack you.”
He held up his free hand in a gesture of surrender, his mouth twitching. “I wasn’t going to say a word, but thanks for confirming the fact that your mind will head straight for the gutter at the drop of a hat.”
“You are so bad,” she laughed.
He was right. Her mind had immediately gone to the naughtiest place possible when he looked at her like that. It wasn’t her fault—Max was so damn hunky.
Max chuckled and went back to eating his pizza. Just like that, her embarrassment disappeared. She got the feeling they could say anything to each other and it would work.
“You said earlier that you’re staying at your parents’ place while you’re in town,” he said in between bites of pizza. “You don’t live in Dallas then?”
It was a casual question, but Lana sensed a little tension in Max’s voice. She tried not to read too much into it, but dare she hope he already felt the same chemistry she did?
“I’m sort of between living arrangements at the moment,” she said.
He frowned, his slice of pizza halfway to his mouth.
Lana laughed. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise. I just finished my master’s program in organic chemistry at the University of Texas at Austin. I’m living with my parents while I’m lining up job interviews.” She thought a moment. “This is going to sound weird, but I felt this crazy urge to come back home, like I had to be here.”
“Well, I’m glad you paid attention to those urges, or we wouldn’t have met,” Max said.
“Must be fate.”
“Must be.” His eyes held hers. “Any of those job interviews in Dallas?”
“Some,” she said. “I also have several set up in New York, Boston, San Francisco, and Seattle. Even a few in France.”
He did a double take. “France—wow. That sounds exciting.”
She shrugged. “I’m just keeping my options open. I haven’t decided where I want to work yet. It could be anywhere.”
“Like Dallas?” he mused.
Max’s heated expression suggested that was the option he’d prefer. Considering the fact that they’d known each other for all of two hours, Lana was shocked at how open she was to the idea of working much closer to her childhood home than she’d ever planned.
“Dallas is certainly in the running,” she murmured, licking some Parmesan cheese off her fingers.
Max’s eyes locked on her tongue, and she would have had to be clueless not to notice the way those beautiful blue eyes of his practically sparkled in the dim light of the restaurant as he watched her. Actually, his eyes lit up like a pair of Christmas tree lights. Damn, that was sexy as hell.
She felt a little tremor of excitement in her belly and had to wonder how a simple gaze from a guy she’d just met could get her going so fast. She’d never experienced this kind of immediate sexual intensity with anyone, but with Max, it was like she’d caught lightning in a bottle.
“So,” he said softly, his voice deeper, rougher.
Apparently, Max was as into this date as she was. The knowledge made her feel warm and gooey all over.
“So,” he said again, his voice a bit more in control this time, “a master’s in organic chemistry. Does that mean you’ll be creating new foods, like mashed-potato-flavored soda and veggies that taste like Doritos?”
Lana laughed. “Unfortunately, while I could do that with an organic chemistry degree, it’s not the particular discipline I’m involved with.”
“No cool nacho cheese–flavored green beans then?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. My background is in pharmaceutical R&D. I’ll be developing new medications and drug-testing protocols.”
He nodded. “That’s pretty cool, too. I mean, if you can’t put mashed potatoes in a bottle, saving lives is a good backup plan.”
“I know. I was bummed, too.” She smiled. “But we can’t all make snack-flavored veggies for a living.”
“Too bad. More kids would eat their vegetables if they tasted like Doritos,” he pointed out. “Hell, the vending machine possibilities alone are staggering.”
As they ate, they discussed the best veggie-chip combinations for a while, with Max suggesting he might even try the vegetarian lifestyle if someone could make broccoli taste like Fritos.
By the time Max had polished off his entire pizza, they’d talked about her classes at the university, the long nights studying in her apartment, the stress of wanting to get good grades for both herself and her parents. He listened to all of it, asking serious questions and showing more interest in her college experience than any guy she’d ever talked to, and that included some guys she’d dated at the university. She’d be the first to admit that organic chemistry wasn’t exactly thrilling to anyone other than another organic chemistry major, but Max seemed to be genuinely interested.
“You could study for three days straight without sleep?” he asked, apparently impressed. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t seem to need as much sleep as other people. After seeing me pull all-nighters for the whole five years we went to school together, my roommate, Denise, is convinced I must be from another planet.”
He frowned. “You lived with the same roommate the entire time you were in school? You two must be really good friends.”
She nodded as she sipped her iced tea. “We are. Normally, roomies start to get on each other’s nerves at some point, but Denise is an organic chemistry major who came in the same semester I did. We hit it off right away, so when we were lucky enough to get into off-campus housing together, we jumped at the chance. I don’t think either of us would have done as well in school if we hadn’t had each other to lean on.”
Lana set down her glass, then looked longingly at her empty plate. She should have ordered three slices instead of two. She was still hungry. Max must have seen the way she was gazing unhappily at her plate, because he laughed and asked if she wanted dessert.
“I smelled some killer cheesecake when we walked in.”
She laughed, marveling at him and his super-sniffer as she considered dessert. “I probably shouldn’t.”
He regarded her thoughtfully. “I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but you don’t strike me as someone who’s prone to putting on weight.”
Lana opened her mouth to tell him that was only because she worked out so much, but then decided simply to be honest. “I’m not. In fact, I weigh the same thing I did in high school, and I hardly ever work out. It drives Denise crazy. I can eat anything I want and never gain a pound. She stands too close to a bowl of ice cream and has to go straight to the gym.”
Max smiled. “It’s probably in your DNA. Fast metabolism, you know?”
She pushed back her plate and rested her forearms on the table, returning his smile. “Any chance that you have a fast metabolism like that, too?”
He nodded, his grin broadening. “As a matter of fact, I do. So, how about that cheesecake?”
“Definitely,” she said with a laugh as he caught their server’s eye.
After the cheesecake showed up, Lana decided they’d done enough talking about her. It was time to find out a little about this amazing guy across the table from her.
“Now that you know everything there is to know about me,” she said, licking cheesecake off her fork with a little s
how of tongue simply because she liked Max watching her do it, “let’s talk about you.”
His smile wilted a little, much to her disappointment. “My life isn’t nearly as interesting as yours. Definitely nothing worth talking about.”
“That’s silly,” she scolded. “I bet you have a lot of fascinating stuff to talk about. I mean, for starters, did you grow up in a cop family here in Dallas?”
Max didn’t say anything, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure he’d heard her. Instead, he focused on his slice of cheesecake, like he was more interested in that than he was in her. Finally, he looked up and gave her another smile—only this time, it lacked humor.
“No, I didn’t grow up in Texas. I was born in Las Vegas and lived there until I was eighteen,” he said quietly. “My family was…well, let’s just say it was about as far as you can get from a cop family. To put things in proper perspective, if one or two events in my life had gone slightly different, you’d be sitting at the table with a guy who works at a Gas-and-Go.”
With his looks, confidence, and knee-weakening charm, Lana had a hard time believing Max could ever be anything but amazing. “But growing up in Vegas must have been cool, with all the lights and excitement?”
Max shook his head, though, turning his attention back to his cheesecake, taking a small bite. “I didn’t grow up on that side of Vegas.” He lifted his head to look at her again. “I lived in what you might call the projects—the low-rent housing section of North Vegas.”
“Rough neighborhood?” she prompted, trying to imagine Max in a place like that. The image just wouldn’t stick. He looked like he could take care of himself in a fight, but the idea of him dealing with that kind of life as a kid bothered her.
“Sometimes it could be,” he admitted. “A lot of my friends ended up in jail or dead. I always considered myself lucky to have gotten out.”