If he could just tear himself away from watching them.
If that male touched her one more time…
He reached across and grabbed her hand and Nax saw red.
* * *
Crista was having a nice time.
That was all. Nice.
There were no fireworks. No butterflies in her tummy. No tingling awareness down south. What was wrong with her? This guy was hot. He was kind.
And she felt nothing. Nada. Zip.
He had barely even blinked over the fact that her mom thought her stuffed cat was real. He had gotten a bit embarrassed when she’d gotten up to go to the bathroom and accidentally bumped into a waitress carrying a tray filled with drinks. But who could blame him? That had been a complete disaster.
Amazingly, not a drip had landed on her—unlike the poor people sitting behind them. Who had since left. Maybe they should have done the same thing, considering all the wary looks everyone at the other tables was giving her. And the waitress had yet to return to refill their drinks.
Sometimes she thought she was a walking disaster.
“Perhaps we should just—”
She fell silent as the door to the restaurant opened and a tall, gorgeous, all-too-familiar man walked in.
Oh shit.
“What is he doing here?” she whispered to herself.
“What was that?” Marc looked at her, then obviously seeing where her gaze was focused, he turned to watch Nax striding towards them. “You know him?”
She licked her lips. “He’s a client.”
Marc turned back with a frown. “Doesn’t look like he’s very happy.”
No, it didn’t.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Nax stopped at their table and scowled down at Marc. That was it. He didn’t say hello. Didn’t announce his reason for being here. Didn’t acknowledge her at all.
She couldn’t help but feel slightly miffed.
“Can I help you?” Marc asked. His voice was calm, but she could see the way he’d tensed. Not that she could blame him. Nax was acting rather oddly. Even for him.
“Mr. Clacka, can I help you?”
“Nax,” he growled, without looking away from Marc.
“All right, Nax, is everything okay? Are you here to eat? We were just leaving so you can have our table.” She made to stand and he turned to glare at her.
“Is he the one?”
No, she didn’t think he was. They were both trying hard but there just didn’t seem to be any spark, and that wasn’t what he meant. She cleared her throat. “Sorry?”
“The one that hit you. Is it him? You said you did not have a male. Did you lie?”
“What do you mean, hit her?” Marc glared up at Nax. He suddenly stood. “You think I would hit her?”
“Someone did.” Nax looked him up and down. “Was it you?”
Oops. This was not going anywhere good. Crista stood as well.
“I think we should all calm down.” Everyone in the restaurant had stopped what they were doing and were staring. Awesome.
“Sit down, female,” Nax snapped.
“Hey! Don’t speak to her like that,” Marc said to him.
“I do not wish her to get in the way, she could be harmed.”
“Nax, you’ve got the wrong idea. Marc is my date. He’s not the one who hit me. In fact, he ran off the guy who did. So will you please just calm down?”
They continued to stare at one another.
“You scared off the male who harmed her?”
“Yes,” Marc replied.
“He and his brother scared them off,” she explained. “Marc is a good guy.”
Nax just stared at Marc. “Do you know who he is?”
“What?” Marc asked.
“The male who attacked her. Do you know him?”
“No, never seen him before in my life.”
Nax made a frustrated noise. “It is good you stopped him from harming her. But you need to stop touching her.” He turned to her. “I will escort you home.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean I need to stop touching her? I’ll touch her as much as I like.”
Nax’s eyes flared open. He kept his gaze on Marc; the intent way he watched the other man made her shiver.
“You will not touch her.”
“And who will stop me?” Marc taunted.
What the hell? Was he mad? Why was he escalating the situation?
“Well, I think I get a say in how much you get to touch…hey, Nax! No! Bad!”
Okay, not a good idea to talk to a grown man like he’s a dog, Crista.
Nax moved closer, Marc matched him step for step. Fists flew. She didn’t know who hit who first. Marc threw himself at Nax and they smashed back into the table behind them.
Fuck. This was really not where she’d expected this date to go.
* * *
“I’m so sorry about your nose.” She stared up at Marc with a wince. The EMTs had managed to reset it and stop the bleeding. But he now had a big bandage over the top of it and both of his eyes were swollen. She hadn’t been certain that climbing into his truck with him was a good plan, but had decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to argue with a man who’d just been in a fight because of her.
“Not the first time I’ve broken my nose,” he told her. But there was a tight note to his voice that told her he wasn’t happy.
And who could blame him? Wasn’t every day that he got accused of hitting a woman, then attacked. Although she was a bit annoyed at the way he’d prodded Nax’s temper.
“I really don’t know what got into Nax. Or why he turned up in the restaurant.” Or how he’d even known where she was. That last part worried her. She remembered that feeling of being watched.
By Nax?
Uneasiness filled her. She might be attracted to him, but she didn’t actually know all that much about him. Could he be stalking her?
They stopped when they reached her door. “Would you like to come in for coffee? I happen to know where there’s some chocolate.”
Letting him eat her chocolate was the least she could do.
After he’d launched himself at Nax, she’d stood there, frozen with shock. They’d slammed straight through a table, which a group of four had been sitting at. Luckily, everyone had managed to dive out of the way. Then the manager, who was obviously good in a crisis, had raced into the room with a hose in hand and sprayed them both.
They’d sprang apart, soaking wet, blood still dripping from Marc’s nose while Nax’s right eye had already swollen shut. The sound of sirens suddenly had everyone moving. Obviously, there were a few people in that restaurant who weren’t interested in being there when the cops arrived, even if they weren’t there for them.
And in the chaos that ensued, Nax had somehow disappeared. Just as well, because she’d been about to unleash hell on him. Well, all right, she’d have tried her to best to tell him what she thought of him. But more than likely she’d have chickened out and tried to find an ice pack.
She sighed. Had he followed her to the restaurant? Why? And then he’d come in to confront Marc because he’d thought he was the person who’d hit her?
Which was kind of sweet, wasn’t it? Or was she totally losing perspective?
Yeah, somehow, she thought it was the latter. She was doomed.
“No, I think I’ll go home and start icing my nose.”
“Of course. Good idea. I have some ice in my freezer if you want, I could wrap it in a towel for the ride home.”
“No, that’s fine. I don’t know when I’ll see you to give you the towel.”
Right. Because his grandfather had a bakery a few blocks away and it would be too hard to return a towel? She got the message loud and clear. She couldn’t blame him and it wasn’t even like she’d been attracted to him. But she had liked him, in a brotherly, purely platonic way.
“I really am sorry for everything, Marc.”
He gave her a look t
hen nodded with a wince. “Not your fault. I think this date was probably a bad idea. I could tell you’re not that interested in me but you’re cute and sweet and I thought something might come from it. Obviously, you’re not interested in me because you have something going on with that crazy idiot—”
“What? No, I don’t! I hardly know him. Do you really think I would go out on a date with you if I was involved with someone else?”
No wonder he was being so cold to her.
His shoulders relaxed. “You’re not involved with him?”
“No. He’s a client. Really. I had no idea he would turn up like that tonight. I am so sorry.”
“So he’s not a boyfriend you had a fight with and wanted to make him jealous by going on a date with me?”
Her jaw dropped open. “Seriously? I’d never do that. People don’t do that.”
“Believe me, they do,” he said dryly.
“That’s happened to you before?”
“Something similar.”
“Marc, really. I’m not involved with him.”
“Then how did he know where you were?”
“I-I don’t know.”
Marc frowned. “That’s not good. He could be following you, stalking you.”
She swallowed nervously.
“And he seems like he’s a little obsessed. He didn’t like me touching you. Crista, I’d be really careful.”
“I’m sure he’s not dangerous.”
“Right. Not dangerous at all. He seemed really sane.”
She entered her apartment after saying goodbye to Marc, knowing she’d probably never see him again, and if she did he’d probably pretend not to know her. Couldn’t blame him. Tonight had been a disaster.
Story of her life.
8
Nax drove up to his house, wincing when saw the police car sitting there.
This was not a good sign. He pulled up and sat there for a moment. He was tempted to head out of the city, and set up into the skies. Flying cleared his head. It helped settle him. He could use some of that now.
He’d made a stupid mistake. He’d gotten too close to the target and he’d let his temper get the best of him. He needed to find some control.
And he needed to stay away from that female.
That should not be hard now. Ioin would no doubt reassign someone else to watch her.
He let out a low growl. Looking down, he saw that his hands were clenched into fists. Just the idea of someone else getting close to her, even a member of his own pack, was enough to send rage pounding through him.
What was wrong with him? He was acting as though she were his…mate. That could not be right. It was just sexual attraction. He had been too long without a female. After all, she was not the sort of mate he wanted.
He needed to stay away from her, then all these odd feelings would disappear and he could go back to the rational, sane person he was before Crista Nelson walked into his life.
He stepped out of the Humvee, knowing he could not put it off much longer. He walked inside the house, following the sound of voices. When he stepped into the living room, he saw Sacaren and Frankie sitting on the couch with Ioin standing behind them, leaning back against the wall. A man and a female sat across from them, both in ill-fitting cheap suits.
Frankie let out a little noise as she saw him and immediately stood. “Nax, are you all right?”
She guessed she was speaking of his swollen eye. Perhaps he should have gone to the ship first and used the regen chamber.
“I am fine.”
She winced. “I’ll go get you an ice pack for that eye.” She patted his arm as she passed by. He was not certain why, but for some reason it made him feel somewhat better.
“Mr. Nax Clacka?”
Both the man and woman were standing.
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Jones, this Detective South,” the female said. “We need to speak to you about an altercation at Pinco’s Restaurant tonight.”
“Yes?”
“This would be best done in private.”
“We are not leaving,” Ioin told them.
Nax saw the male look up at Ioin then swallow nervously. Ioin had been known to make people empty their bladders when he got that look on his face, so the officer was doing well to still have dry pants.
“What do you wish to know?”
“We have several witnesses who said that you and a Marc Richards were involved in an altercation at Pinco’s tonight.”
“Yes.”
Both of the officers looked at each other. Had they expected him to deny it? They had just stated that they had witnesses.
“Is there a reason why you the two of you were fighting?”
“I thought that he had hit the female.”
Behind him he heard Frankie gasp. He turned and she handed him one of the frozen gel packs she kept in the freezer. He held it up to his eye. It stung and he thought it was kind of pointless when he could take a quick trip to the regen chamber, but he could not tell Frankie that with the human authorities here.
“You found the person who hit Crista?” Frankie asked.
“I thought he might have been.”
Ioin sent him a sharp look. He had wondered if he was the one to hurt her, but other than when he had snuck up behind her on the street and startled her, she had seemed too relaxed in his presence. But there was no point in telling the human authorities that he had hit him out of…out of jealousy?
Stars. He needed to start thinking more rationally. He hadn’t even been aware he could feel jealousy. Dealing with emotions was not something he was used to. And he wondered if that was the reason for his loss of control. He didn’t know what to do with all these feelings.
Gah. Feelings. He had to stop watching those foolish chat shows that Eden was so fond of.
“You believe that Mr. Richards hit the woman he was dining with? Ms. Crista Nelson?”
“I thought he might have. I do not believe that now.”
The two of them looked at each other. The woman stared right at him. “Mr. Clacka, we could charge you and Mr. Richards, both. You destroyed property, disturbed the peace, and you left the scene before talking to us.”
“Nax will be happy to pay for any damages and compensate the owner of Pinco’s for his losses,” Frankie said quickly. “He hasn’t got a record and I think it’s fair to say that his protective instincts got the best of him.”
The female studied him for a moment then nodded. “We’re not going to charge you. At this time. Tomorrow you need to contact the owner of the restaurant and work out compensation. We will check that this is done. If it has not been, we will be back.”
“I understand.”
“Thank you so much,” Frankie said. “I’m sorry you had to come out here so late.”
“In truth, we were interested on seeing the house that has had twenty callouts in the past four months,” the female told them.
They both looked around with interest.
“Have to say, I’m a bit disappointed,” the male commented. “I expected something much more interesting.”
* * *
Her head was pounding as she walked into her apartment. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget tonight had ever happened.
Fat chance. The only way she was going to manage that was if she took a few sleeping pills, which wasn’t a possibility when she had her mother to look after.
Oh well, at least she had chocolate. Almost as good as a pill, right?
She locked the door and then sat her bag down on the hall table and moved into the kitchen. She opened the pantry door and stared at the spot where she’d put the chocolates. She blinked. She knew she’d put them there. Where were they now?
She walked into her mom’s bedroom to find her mother was curled up under the blankets, fast asleep. She moved over to turn the bedside lamp off and spotted the box of chocolates on the bedside table. She opened it.
Empty.
Well, a
t least one of them had had a good night, she supposed. Mom had gorged on chocolate, while Crista had watched two men try to beat the crap out of each other. She knew how she’d rather have spent her night.
* * *
Nax walked into the kitchen the next morning to find everyone else there already. Frankie had made a pot of that awful stuff she called coffee. Tecan and Brogan seemed to like the stuff. Nax thought it tasted like dirty water. Only worse.
Eden pulled a tray of something out of the oven. The scent of cinnamon and sugar hit him. Cinnamon buns. His favorite. His suspicions were raised.
“What is going on?”
“It’s an intervention,” Frankie told him.
“A conversation,” Eden corrected, sending her a look.
Frankie shrugged. “Whatever you want to call it, we need to talk, Nax.”
Nax groaned. “I detest talking.”
Frankie had talked him out of visiting the regen chamber last night, she said it would look suspicious if his bruises just disappeared and too many people had seen them. So this morning, his head was throbbing, he could see very little out of his left eye and he had enough other aches and bruises to put him in a foul mood.
Sacaren grimaced. “None of us like it.”
Frankie shot him a look and he wiped the disgusted look off his face. “But we need to have this talk.”
“Because…” Frankie prompted.
“Uh, because…”
“We care about you, Nax,” Eden declared.
He took a hasty step back, panic filling him. “That is even worse.”
Eden glared at him. “What is so bad about that?”
“It is bad enough you want to speak, but now you wish to talk of feelings?”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “You guys do have them, you know.”
“I try not to.”
“Jeez, you’d think we were talking about having a colonoscopy,” Eden muttered, transferring the cinnamon buns to a cooling tray. The only reason he hadn’t left yet was because he was still hoping to get his hands on one of those buns.
His stomach growled. Loudly.
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