Page 12 of Chasing the Wolf (Dark Wing #7)

Chapter 12

Xavier

S he was jealous. And it sends off a surge of hope in me that I can't deny. "What do you want, Mac?"

"Nothing, it's fine. Her shorts aren't regulation length." Mac cocks her head and looks to the side, catching a little sliver of the server—whatever her name was. Lara? No, Clara. Maybe Sara. Doesn't matter. What matters is the green-eyed monster has bitten Mac, and I'm here for it.

"They looked long enough to me."

"No, there's no way. She's angling for better tips."

It's loud in here, and there's a plethora of scents, but not Mac's. "Where did you get it?" I look her straight in the eyes.

"At the crew store. But that's not where she got hers, or she shortened them herself."

"They sell potions at the crew store?" I know she thinks we’re talking shorts. But I want to know how Mac’s hiding her scent. "Does Tara have some sort of love potion for better tips?" I wink at Mac.

"Love potion? What are you talking about? Potions aren't... potions aren't a thing. Do you use magic potions to sell your lotions?"

"I don't use magic in my formulas. But the first year, when it took off, we were accused of it. It almost went to court, but with a good portion of humans not knowing about magic..." I wiggle my fingers at her. "I decided against it. I use good old-fashioned chemistry and bioscience. But in the process of protecting what I knew were going to be amazing patents, we did a lot of work researching potions and how they affect people."

"Interesting, I didn't know potions were a thing." She turns away from me, staring into the heart of the back room. At the hemline of the server's shorts as she approaches.

"Are you ready to order?" Clara asks, her name tag now visible.

"Two double Dragon Ales, a charcuterie board, and fries," Mac says.

"All right then, anything else?" Clara asks.

"I'm good. What are you having, Xavier?" Mac stares me down.

I close the menu and put it on the table. "I'll just pick off yours."

"If you want to risk it." She shrugs. "We're good."

"I'll have your order up for you in two shakes." This time when Clara walks away from the table, it's more of a walk and less of a runway sashay.

"How did you come up with the idea for Raw Timberline Skincare?"

"I majored in biochemistry. At first, I thought I'd try to do something in the paper industry, like recycling paper or paint. But sophomore year, my skin was really dry. The air out on the West Coast is different than back home. I had a project due and no other idea what to do, so I made a lotion and had to analyze the chemical makeup of it. My human roommate tried it, loved it, and I kept making better and better ones. Then beard products, and the whole thing was like a chunk of ice falling off a cliff. Nothing at first, but then the avalanche gained momentum. All I had to do was surf the wave of snow down the mountain or drown in it. And I rode hard.” It’s something I’ve said more than once in interviews, but saying it to Mac has a whole different meaning.

"Raw Timberline lotion smells a heck of a lot better than a paper mill. But then, what doesn't smell better than a paper mill?"

I glare at her. Is she trolling me?

Clara picks the least perfect moment to drop the two double Dragon Ales at the table and then vanishes.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" I pick up the glass and down a good portion of it.

"No."

"Are you trying to distract me from my question?"

"Definitely."

"Mac." She's not looking at me but at something or someone on the other side of the bar. "Mac." I take her chin between my thumb and ring finger, pivoting her attention to me.

"Venus."

I don’t like the sound of Venus’s name on Mac’s lips. I shake my head. “She’s a friend.”

"You were going to be mated."

"From day one, we were trying to figure out how to stop it."

"You kissed her at the pack run!"

"Because our families were watching. It was fake."

"It didn't look fake."

"Wait, your friend, Hope, is mated to the dragon actor, Everett Stone?"

"Yes?"

"Well, he kisses his leading ladies."

"Not anymore."

"I watched one of his movies with your brother the last time I was in Boston— Secret Dragon in Paradise . Honestly, I don't see the appeal. It was weird, but Colton liked it."

"Colton likes anything."

"Apparently, but Everett kissed his leading lady, and that movie came out last year."

"Nope, he has it in his contract. He does all his own stunts now, but he has a body double stunt person for the kissing and sex scenes. It's even in his contract that he doesn't have to watch that portion of the movies."

"Well, it was fake, and my kiss—all of my kisses with Venus—were fake." Fuck, I've got a lot of convincing to do to make Mac understand.

"And you never hit on anyone in college? Or like, ever?"

"No, not really."

"Are you a virgin?" Mac clasps her hands over her mouth, and it's adorable.

"No, I'm not a virgin. I'm a male shifter."

Her face screws up in disgust. Like saying I'm a male shifter is equal to a pile of garbage. A pile of garbage that the lovely Mac couldn't smell right now if I gave her a thousand dollars.

"What's wrong with being a male shifter?"

"Well, let's just say that the ones I've known for almost my entire life haven't come through for me."

I nod. My father had a hell of a lot to do with that. Controlling her parents, making them jump at his command. Making me jump too. Just to keep her safe. Because he was more confident in what I only suspected was true: that the female beside me is my mate. Even if she is in denial. "Well, it's time that changes."

"Is that so, Mr. Wilder?" She takes a sip of her drink.

"Yes, I'm just going to have to beat some sense into that brother of yours."

Mac's lips thin, and a chuckle starts in her chest and expands until her eyes are watering and she's trying not to choke or spit.

"It's okay." I run my hand down her neck and back. "Spit it out if you have to."

She shakes her head, tears running down her checks.

"What? Did you think I was going to say I'd be that male?"

"I... yes. I thought the egotistical son of the Alpha would declare himself to be that male."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you in your disappointment. But I plan at Raw Timberline Skincare. We don't meet expectations; we exceed them."

"Oh, is that so?" She tosses back the rest of her drink as Clara drops the food off.

"Another round?" Clara asks.

"No," I say while Mac says, "yes," at the same time.

"Water, please," I add.

Clara pivots away with a smile.

"You are a party pooper."

"Is that so?"

Clara's back with the water already.

"It is. I don't see how that is exceeding expectations."

"I think you will in the morning."

She winks at me. "Is that a promise?"

"It is. Now eat up and drink your water." I want to throw her over my shoulder.

"You're bossy." But she says it with a smile.

"I know. But then, so are you." I reach for the prosciutto, but she snatches it before I can take it.

"Mo I am snot," she says with her mouth full of meat and cheese. "Oh, fud crackers. Dere's Olton." She points and ducks low in the booth.

"Why are you hiding from your brother?"

"Because you're here, I'm here. We have drinks and food."

"And?" I raise my eyebrow.

"Because I'm drunk, and it looks like we're on a date."

"We are on a date," I affirm.

"No, we're not."

I smirk. Because really, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. And Mac thinks we're on a date. So we're on a date and I couldn't be happier about anything. Seriously, I'm happier about her thinking we're on a date than the time Tarmart ordered our entire catalog of products. "Whatever. If it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, it's a rose."

"Why are you so caught up with how things scent? Just let it go." She slides closer to me. And her voice rises just enough to attract Colton.

He takes one look at the two of us and has clearly made the same assumption as his sister. He frowns and takes a step toward us before a dark-haired, barely clothed female says something to him. He scowls at me and turns away.

"Are we going to let him get away with that?" Mac cocks her head at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he brought you on this cruise. He's supposed to be hanging out with you.”

“What happened to you not wanting him to see you?”

“He saw us and then ignored us. That’s worse.” Mac takes another hunk of cheese. “Whatever, looks like he's making do. If you're into whatever that is." Mac motions to the dark-haired girl. “Forget I said that. She clearly knows what she wants and is going for it. Good for her. Though she could do a heck of a lot better.”

"Come on, Mac. She could do a heck of a lot worse." Not that my best friend needs to be defended. And defended from his sister. But Colton's not that bad. He's doing well. An apartment downtown in Boston, a job he loves. Fuck, he's done better than okay. He didn't want to leave the pack. I know he was worried about his parents still being there. And me. Though he won't say it, at least not to me.

"Forget that. I think we should warn her." Mac smirks at me. And damn, I don't want to cockblock my friend. But if it means spending a few more minutes with the female I know is my mate, then fuck yeah. I'll get my goalie pads strapped on and block every shot thrown at him.

"If that's what you think, Mackie. You know best." I stand and take her hand, leading her out of the booth.

"Wait—my drink." Mac tosses the rest of it back.

I grab her by the elbow and lead her across the room to her brother.

"Colton!" Mac goes full-in, wrapping her arms around her brother's neck. "Where have you been, cutie bear?" Oh, she's pulling out all the stops, including her family's nickname from when he was a cub.

"I thought you said you're a wolf?" The dark-haired woman's eyes flick over Colton. But she glares at me. Do I know her? Maybe from a spa? Or she just has one of those faces.

"I am. This is my sister," Colton says and turns to me in a plea for help. "This is my best friend."

The female's shoulders drop in relief. Which irritates me. Why would she be upset if Colton was a bear and not a wolf?

"Oh, come on, Colton. You know you were always Mom's cutie bear."

"Yeah, I don't need a bear. I need a wolf and a dragon." She shakes her head and shimmies away.

"Oh fuck. You almost bagged a shifter chaser." I shake my head and wrap my arm around Mac's shoulder. My wolf’s on edge.

Colton looks longingly at the female walking across the bar. "I don't care—" He cuts himself off, glaring at my hand. "What in the hell is going on? You're crazy. She's not—" Colton moves my hand from Mac's shoulder, forcing my hand to my side. "You are not mates!"

"Exactly, we're not mates." Mac nods in agreement. "Don't worry, Colton. I'm not looking to take your place as Xavier’s bestie. I'm not looking for a mate. I'm not good enough, smart enough, or pretty enough for anyone to ever want me."

"That's a load of shit, Mackie. You're not his mate. That's all." Colton's eyes flash. "A total load of utter rubbish. If you were mates, you would have known when she had her ceremony."

Mac looks at the ground and then intently at the other patrons in the bar. Like she's searching for anyone she might know to get her out of this conversation. She's not the only one who wants it stopped; I do too. Convincing her to mate with me is delicate. I've got a lot of damage to undo and not a lot of time.

I glare at Colton. I could pull out the text messages he sent me during her ceremony. When I was away at college. Because I've saved them. He sent me a play-by-play or what felt like a blow-by-blow. Each line is a punch to my gut. Something I couldn't do anything about.

"You're right, Colton. We're not mates. But he wasn't there during my ceremony."

"I wasn't. Mac and I haven't been in the same room since her eighteenth birthday."

"No, that's not true. I've seen both of you plenty in the last... No." Colton looks back and forth between his sister and me.

"It's true. But that doesn't mean that Xavier and I are mates. I haven't felt any bonding link. And the way Mom and Dad talk about it—you know, their overdramatic story of how Mom was on a trip and ran into Dad who was going to a hockey game, and boom. They hadn’t seen each other since Mom had had her ceremony. They felt the pull and then?—"

"Stop! It's bad enough to hear Mom tell the story. I don't want to hear it from you too." Colton grabs her wrist, and I growl.

"Right." Mac shrugs him off. "None of that. I'm just doing your social duty, but now that you're here, you can take over." Mac boops Colton on the nose.

"Did you boop me?"

"I did. And I'll boop you again." She pushes his nose like a buzzer.

"How much have you had to drink, Mackie?"

"Some. Enough. More than normal."

"Fu—"

"She's okay," I say.

"No, no, she's not. Mackie has a fill line. Go over the fill line and... and you can't leave her alone."

"Is this true, Mac?"

"What am I going to do? Drive? I don't drive when I even look at a bottle of wine. Also, we're on a ship."

"Exactly," Colton says. "You know what? You're an adult. Go ahead and adult on your own. I need to start over for the night." Colton glares at me. "A long time ago, I told you to get out of the mating with Venus. Do you remember what you said?"

I nod. Because I sure as hell don't want to talk about it with him here. Now. Not in front of Mac, without being able to explain everything.

"What did you say? Tell her. Tell her if you think you're her mate."

"Colton," I growl, low.

"You think you’re mates? Then go ahead and tell your mate what you told me."

"Fuck."

"I'm going to the bathroom." Mac rolls away from me to the corner of the bar.

I take a step after her, but Colton reaches out, grabbing my upper arm. "Brother..." He laughs. "Kind of funny we used to call each other that. Are you going to tell her? Or am I?"

"I will, just not yet. I need more time."

"Well, it's a five-day cruise, brother. And Cinderella is racing for her second midnight. Fuck that, my sister's not Cinderella. She's not going to wait for Prince Charming to find her lost shoe." Colton gives me a scornful glare.

"Just give me more time. She'll see."

"Whatever you say, Prince Humperdinck." Colton rolls away from me.