How To Flirt (Bernard Frankenheimer Center Book 2)

by Troy Hunter

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” I say hurriedly, snapping my laptop shut. “Really, Michael. Your business is your business.”

  He nods pensively. “Alright. Cool, man.”

  “Cool,” I echo.

  “Hey, want a smoothie?” he asks brightly. “I’m making my famous berry power protein shake.”

  “I’ll pass, thanks,” I say, managing a smile.

  Michael leaves the room, closing the door behind him. I let loose a breath and sag into my chair. I know my coldness toward him will get old fast. He’s obviously a nice guy. He has to be if my parents decided to let him into their lives.

  I throw myself back onto my bed and cover my head with a pillow. I don’t fall asleep for what feels like hours, but when I do, I dream of Cliff.

  CLIFF

  M y fingers tap nervously on the wooden table in the Cocoa Peak. Dale should be here any minute and I already ordered for the both of us. He seems like the kind of guy who likes a rich, dark roast. Hopefully I’m right.

  A smile tugs at my lips as I remember our date last night, and suddenly, all my nerves fall away. The only thing on my mind besides Dale is my wolf family. I can only hope Dale has good news for me about the lottery.

  But last night…last night was like a dream. And I’m ready for it to continue. The bell over the door rings and Dale walks in, looking damn good. He’s wearing a green t-shirt that makes his eyes pop and a pair of slim jeans. He scratches his beard absentmindedly while he searches the coffee shop for me. I let his eyes wander. When they fall on me, I flash him a wry smile.

  He grins back and his eyes brighten. I inhale, scenting him. I can smell the arousal on him and it’s enough to start the wolf within me rumbling. I stand and wrap him in a hug, resisting the urge to caress his ass.

  “I ordered you a black roast,” I say, pushing the steaming mug toward him. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “More than okay. I’m dying for a caffeine fix,” he says, taking a long sip of the drink.

  I settle back, tugging on my baseball cap. “So, how was your night?” I ask.

  He chews his bottom lip and I know he’s thinking of the truck. “I had a great night with you,” he says. “Definitely one of my top five dates.”

  “Only top five?” I arch a brow. “I’ll just have to try a little harder next time.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” he says, smiling at me over the rim of his mug. “I managed to look into the hunting lottery.”

  “You did?” My eyes widen with surprise. I hadn’t expected him to check it out so soon.

  Dale nods. “Yeah, the lottery will select three random contestants. I managed to get into their basic coding and then I ran into a bit of a snag.”

  “What kind of snag?”

  “Well, I can’t access the website code remotely. I need to be dialed into the servers, which means I need access to the local office of the Department of Fish and Game,” he explains.

  “And you said there were three licenses?” My heart is sinking in my chest at the news. Even if he did manage to award all the licenses to me, that would look suspicious.

  He nods. “Right now, yeah. But if I were to access the server, I could change that too.”

  “Dale, has anyone ever told you it’s sexy when you go full geek?” I grin at him.

  “You would be the first.” He blushes.

  “But probably not the last,” I tease him.

  “So, Cliff, I’ve been meaning to ask…why do you want the hunting licenses anyway?”

  I inhale deeply, fidgeting with my coffee cup. “I love animals.”

  Dale watches me pensively. “Me too. Especially cats.”

  I toss my head back and laugh. “I knew you were a cat guy.”

  “What?” he asks with mock offense in his tone. “Everyone in the world and their dog prefers dogs to cats. They’re the underdog.”

  “I’m a wolf man myself,” I say. Part of me is hoping he’ll catch on to my subtle hint, but I know the likelihood of that is slim. Why would any sane, rational person think werewolves are real?

  “So I surmised.” He smiles. “You should use some of the proceeds from your photos to set up a wildlife conservation fund. You know, if you want to.”

  I gape at him. “Dale, that’s an amazing idea. I love that.”

  We lapse into silence for a moment, drinking our coffee and staring at the mountains in the distance. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of creating my own non-profit before. But Dale thought of it so quickly, so easily. My eyes dart over to him and I study his handsome profile. I feel a tug toward him, an intangible draw. Maybe there is such a thing as a mate after all.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Just that I think you’re amazing,” I say sincerely. I don’t mind being open with Dale. I feel secure and comfortable with him, which is something I don’t typically feel when I’m with other men.

  He blushes a bright pink, most of it hidden beneath his beard. “I, uh, I’m not that great,” he stammers.

  I roll my eyes. “Come on, Dale. You’ve got a big, fancy job in Silicon Valley. You’re smart, you’re clever, you’re confident. You’re hot.”

  “Seriously, stop man, I don’t think my ego can take another compliment,” he jokes. “But, thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me for pointing out the obvious, Dale,” I say. And I mean it. As far as I’m concerned, more people should be singing Dale’s praises.

  “So, what’s on your agenda for today?” he asks.

  I shrug. Truthfully, I hadn’t planned anything past meeting Dale for coffee. With him, I want to see where the wind takes us. Maybe we’ll spend the whole day together or maybe he has plans. Either way, I know I want to work my schedule around him. “I’m just winging it today,” I say.

  “Same. I don’t really have much to do in town. Any suggestions?” He watches me with an expectant look in his eyes.

  I want to suggest that we head back to my truck for another passionate moment. The kind of moment that turns into hours. But I don’t. “I don’t mean to push the issue,” I say hesitantly. “But we could go to the Department of Fish and Game and scope it out?”

  “You’re not pushing it,” he says. “I want to help you with whatever your crusade is.”

  I sigh. “Honestly, Dale, you have no idea how much that means to me.”

  He doesn’t press me further about the issue, simply draining the last of his coffee and rising to his feet. I want to tell him more about my reasons for stopping the lottery. I want to tell him about the wolf pups and their mother, but I hold back. If I tell him about that small pack, it might lead to questions about me. Questions I can’t answer yet.

  So I follow him out of the coffee shop and into the sunlight.

  “My car or yours?” he asks, keys in hand.

  “We can take mine,” I say. “Their office is on a bit of a dirt road.”

  “Sounds good,” he says, slipping the keys back in his pocket. “Let me just grab my laptop.”

  I wait for him to return with a slim satchel. He follows me to my truck, parked at the end of the block, and I can feel his eyes on my ass. I grin. The Department really is on a dirt road, but the surface is packed so tightly it might as well be asphalt. His car would’ve been fine. The truth is, I wanted to see his face when he saw the place he climaxed in last night. I wanted to remind him of it.

  We clamber into my truck but he doesn’t let me open the door for him anymore. I don’t mind. If he doesn’t feel like accepting my chivalry or he’s trying to do me some kind of favor, it doesn’t matter to me. It just means we both get in the car faster.

  I start the engine and pull away from the curb, sparing a second to cast a glance at him. His cheeks are flushed. I sniff. The cab still carries the scent of his climax, but I can smell his current excitement now as well. It’s intoxicating.

  It only takes us about twenty minutes to get to the Department of Fish and Game.
The office is surrounded by tall pine trees, and several SUVs are parked outside with the Department’s logo stamped on them. I pull off the road about a hundred yards from the building and turn to Dale.

  “This is embarrassing to admit, but these guys know me. And they don’t like me,” I say.

  He raises a brow. “Then I definitely don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”

  I chuckle. “Probably not. At least not right now anyway.”

  “I’m thinking we enter separately. You keep them distracted while I snoop around.” Dale hops to the ground with a mischievous glint in his eye.

  “A true mastermind,” I say. “See you in there.”

  He nods and then starts trekking toward the building. I’m careful not to choke him with exhaust fumes when I drive around him to park in the Department’s lot. I’m opening the door of the building just as Dale enters the parking lot. I wink at him before slipping inside.

  The lobby is cool, blasted with air-conditioning. The ranger at the front desk rolls his eyes when he sees me but says nothing. I lean against the desk, smiling down at him. “Good morning,” I say as sweetly as possible.

  “What do you want, Cliff? If this is about that poacher, I’ll remind you that Ranger White is still investigating,” he says.

  A month ago, I caught a poacher in the national forest. I brought it to the Department’s attention and even dragged in the culprit, but they never did anything about it. Turned out, the poacher was the son of one of the governor’s friends. I rode the Department’s ass about it pretty hard.

  The door opens before I can reply and Dale struts in. He sniffs loudly and clears his throat, bringing the ranger’s attention to him. He stops beside me, one hand grazing my thigh. “I’m Dean Thornton, from IT,” he says, his voice all nasally.

  “We didn’t call for IT,” the ranger says.

  “Routine checks on your hardware,” Dale explains.

  The ranger purses his lips while he considers Dale. Finally, he seems to have determined that Dale is geeky enough to pass for IT. “Alright, the servers are down the hall on the left. Let me know if you need access to anything else.”

  “Thanks, dude,” Dale says, heading off down the hall.

  “What are you still doing here?” the ranger asks.

  “I’m actually here to apply for a hunting license,” I say, tapping my palms on the desk. “So if you just want to pass me that application over there.” I indicate it with my chin.

  He frowns at me. “Mr. Greenpeace wants a hunting license?”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  “Here.” He slaps the paperwork down in front of me and slides a pen my way.

  “Thank you,” I say, enunciating each word poignantly.

  I start filling out the paperwork, taking my time with each section. I need to be sure to give Dale enough time to find the servers and the lottery code. So I continually erase and rewrite my information.

  “Oh, I forgot the ‘I’,” I mutter, erasing yet another section.

  My mind wanders to Dale as I mess around with the application, buying him time. His willingness to help me, even if it meant impersonating a government employee, is astonishing. And attractive. Very attractive. It’s only been a day since we met, or reconnected if my suspicions that I knew him in high school are right. But I feel something intense tugging me toward him. He seems familiar in a way I can’t explain. But when I look at him, I have this sense that something I’ve lost and missed has returned.

  And I think he feels the same way—at least I hope he does. But if he doesn’t, would he really be in the Department’s office with me, hacking into their systems? Of course, even if he does feel the same way, I shouldn’t get too involved with him too quickly. He is, after all, from Silicon Valley and he’ll return there. Even if I don’t want him to. I just wish he’d stay in Bear Moose. If he wanted to, I know we could make long distance work, but I still wish he’d stay. It’s not as luxurious, big, or prestigious as Silicon Valley, but I’d make him happy here.

  I pause my scribbling as that thought flashes through my mind. I’d make him happy. I’ve never had that kind of sentiment before, never had the urge to please another person like that. I’m nice to people and try to help out when I can, but to make someone happy…that was different.

  I know I’m jumping ahead of myself thinking that far into the future. But I have this sense that Dale and I could be much more than a summer fling. I consider the possibility of me moving to Silicon Valley, if it ever came to that. But my shifter instincts are screaming that it’s impossible. Surrounded by buildings and highways all the time, I know there wouldn’t be enough open space for me. I need to breathe fresh, clean, mountain air. And I need forests to roam.

  So the options are long-distance or accepting this is only a summer fling. I know the latter is the more realistic option. A part of me is pained at the thought but I also know life is what it is. When Dale leaves, at least I’ll have been lucky enough to be with him for a short time.

  The ranger is eyeing me now, looking at my half-completed paperwork with disdain. I chuckle at yet another purposeful mistake while I set about erasing it. He goes back to his work. Dale…I hope you’re working fast.

  DALE

  T he Department of Fish and Game is like a labyrinth despite its small size. It’s not even two stories tall, but I have yet to find the server room. I missed the ranger’s directions entirely. The reality of breaking the law with Cliff was sexy, sexy enough that my mind was entirely focused on Cliff’s ass and not on the ranger’s directions.

  Finally, I spot a room labeled SERVERS with a piece of paper. I slip inside, closing the door behind me. There’s a stool shoved into the corner, so I drag it to the nearest server and plop down onto it. In seconds, I’ve got my laptop open and loaded. I connect a cable from the server to my laptop, giving me instant access to virtually every file and webpage in the Department of Fish and Game.

  “Warning,” the ARF device says into my ear. “Target’s speech patterns and behavior indicate a breach of trust will prove fatal to the relationship.”

  I ignore the device, which is always making calculations in the background. It’s highly illegal, what I’m doing. And it sets me on edge. But I already told Cliff I’d do it and I can’t back down now. So I search through the files until I find the one dedicated to the lottery. Excitedly, I click it open and scan through the code quickly.

  The lottery is set to select three winners from registered hunters—I see it written clearly in the code. And there’s the random number generator for the lottery. Cliff is registering right now, if I set the generator to automatically select him, I’ll need his name in the file. So, I set to work changing the code. Suddenly, an error message appears on the screen.

  “What?” I murmur, peering closer at my screen. “Shit.”

  The code is permanent. I need advanced access to change the code from read-only to editable. And that means I’d need to hack the login info of the head of Fish and Game. Which is another serious offense and likely impossible. I sigh. There’s nothing I can do for Cliff. I can’t change the number of lottery winners, and I can’t force it to generate his name.

  “Analysis indicates that today is an appropriate time to inform the target of the ARF device,” the device says smoothly.

  “Cliff won’t like that,” I say, mostly to myself, as I search through another file.

  “Analysis indicates that further secrecy could prove fatal to the relationship,” the ARF device chirps.

  Truthfully, I don’t want to tell Cliff about the ARF device today. In fact, I’d just rather not. The benefits of admitting that I was being coached by a machine are vastly outweighed by a big con. Which is that Cliff will hang me out to dry. I may not want to admit it, but my feelings for Cliff have developed beyond a simple target for testing the machine. I like him.

  Having been scorned by him in the past, I don’t relish the idea of it happening again. And as much
as I try to remind myself that he ditched me in high school, he seems different now. He seems comfortable with his homosexuality and even kinder than he was when I loved him as a teenager. The more time I spend with him, the less angry I am about the past and the more eager I am for the present.

  I don’t have time to snoop through the server here. If there’s a way to get around this coding, I’ll need more time. So I quickly download the entire lottery file onto my own computer. Luckily, my laptop has enough memory for me to do this quickly. In a few minutes, I’ve got the file downloaded.

  “Time to get the hell out of here,” I mutter, detaching my cable from the server.

  Hurriedly, I stuff my laptop and the cable back into the satchel, putting put the stool back in the corner, just as the door slams open. I jump, startled, and swing toward the door. A security guard stands in the doorway, blocking my exit.

  He glares at me. “I’ve got some questions for you.”

  “Uh, what about?” I ask, trying to appear unbothered. “I just finished my work here. You guys are all set.”

  “And what work is that?” the guard demands.

  “IT got an automated message that one of the servers was overheating,” I lie. “Just came to check it out.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s funny, we called IT, they don’t know a Dean Thornton. And they didn’t send anyone to our office.”

  Well, fuck me.

  I know I look like a deer in headlights. “I don’t know why they would say that,” I say. “Must be playing some kind of prank. I’m new.”

  “Now listen here you little…” The guard falls silent mid-sentence as shouts reach our ears.

  “Are you telling me you’re letting people have campfires outside designated camping areas?” I hear Cliff shout. “And after that wildfire last summer!”

  “Oh, shut up!” another man yells.

  “What the hell is going on,” the guard mutters. “You. Stay here.”

  He stomps off toward the lobby. I absolutely will not stay here, I think nervously. Cliff can handle himself, and I suspect he started a heated argument with the ranger at the front desk to give me time to escape.