Page 3 of The Reluctant Mate (Shifters of the Three Rivers #5)
Chapter three
Sofia
“S ofia!”
I looked up to see Wally sweep in, weaving his way through the crowd with practiced ease. Wearing a crisp pink button-down that practically glowed under the bar lights, he was a spot of vibrant color in the sea of Friday night casual wear. Thomas followed, his huge 6’5” frame towering above everyone else here. Thomas was our Pack doctor, and usually, he would hunch down to try to make himself look less threatening when seeing patients. Here, though, out for date night with his mate, he stood tall and proud, allowing himself to take up all the space he needed.
Wally air-kissed both my cheeks, then pulled back to study me critically. His nose wrinkled at whatever he picked up in my scent.
“Honey, I want to tell you that you look fabulous, but I’d be lying. Your hair is a complete disaster. Did you, by any chance, stick your finger in an electrical socket?”
I self-consciously patted my wayward curls. “We’re short-staffed again. Shannon called in sick.”
“Mmhmm.” Wally’s eyes sparkled as he caught sight of something over my shoulder. “Off with Henri, no doubt. And I’m sure having Tall, Dark, and Brooding over there watching your every move has nothing to do with your disheveled state? My sources tell me he’s been here every night this week.”
Sources? Wally was the Pack gossip. Anything going on in Three Rivers, Wally usually knew all about it. He was also known to drive like Vin Diesel and fight like Jason Bourne, even though he had been known to come to battles armed with a tennis racket.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I lied.
“Oh, please.” Wally settled onto a barstool, Thomas taking the seat beside him. “I haven’t been here five minutes, and I know that man hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. Are you ever going to get over being angry with him?”
“I’m not angry.” The words came out sharper than I intended, making both men raise their eyebrows. “I’m not anything,” I tried again in a calmer voice. “I’m completely over him. It. I mean it.” I winced, hoping they didn’t notice my slip-up. “It’s just… he’s just… always here. Watching. Like I’m some kind of problem he needs to solve.”
“Sounds like someone’s obsessed. And I don’t mean Derek.”
I narrowed my eyes at Wally, more annoyed at myself than him. I knew he was right. No matter how hard I tried to forget about Derek Shaw, my thoughts always circled back to him. And him being here all the time wasn’t making it any easier. Maybe I needed a vacation. Maybe I needed to go someplace where Derek was not.
I turned and poured a Blood Moon Sangria—red wine, blood orange juice, brandy, and mulled dark berries, served over ice with a cinnamon stick—Wally’s usual on date night, and grabbed a bottle of beer for Thomas, desperate to change the subject from Derek fucking Shaw.
“How’s Mai doing? Is bed rest driving her crazy yet?”
“Oh, we are well past that. Our dear Alpha is about ready to commit murder.” Wally accepted his wine with a look that said he wasn’t fooled by my deflection. “Ryan’s hovering is making her insane, and she’s blaming Thomas for putting her on bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy.”
Thomas shrugged. “She only has to do it for another two weeks. The break from everyone bugging her to make decisions for the Pack will be good for her and the pups.”
Mai had been Alpha with Ryan for nearly a year now, and it was wearing on her. After the uncertainty of Jem and Hayley’s years as Alphas, and then the shitshow that was Brock and Hayley, some of the Pack had grabbed onto Mai and Ryan as a stabilizing force. Maybe too much. These days, it seemed like every minor dispute ended up at the Alpha’s doorstep.
Last month, Brielle Lewis pitched up at 5 a.m. demanding an audience because she claimed her night camera trap she’d set up to catch the raccoon that kept raiding her bins had picked up Larry Moore in wolf form shitting on her lawn. Ryan had ordered Brielle to go home, but the disputes just kept coming.
Then, two days ago, Mai had fainted while she and Ryan were having sex, and Ryan, whose paranoia meter was already redlining, went into full Terminator-Alpha-protector mode. He’d called Thomas in a panic, demanding a complete workup. Now Mai was on bed rest until the pups were born, with a contingent of enforcers guarding the Alpha House night and day like it was Fort Knox.
Her being on bed rest was good for her, but it was making seeing Mai tricky. I missed my best friend; between her Pack duties and now the bed rest, and me pulling double shifts, I hardly saw her anymore.
As if reading my mind, Wally leaned forward. “I’m seeing her tomorrow, if I can ninja my way past the horde of bodyguards. Want to come?”
Hell, yes, I did. But before I could answer, a crash from the other end of the bar snapped my head around. Two of our regulars, Brad and Joey, were squaring up to each other, their wolves close to the surface. The scent of their aggression filled the air as the smart people started backing away.
Damn it, this had been coming for a while now, ever since Joey had a one-night stand with Brad’s sister, Daisy. I knew for a fact it was Daisy who insisted it was just a one-night thing, but Brad had been grumbling for days that Joey was a sleazy whore.
“Hey!” I called, already moving toward them. “Not in here! Take it outside!”
I couldn’t afford a fight in here. I wasn’t kidding when I’d told Derek I was worried about my profits. We did okay, but I’d noticed in the past month that fewer of our human customers were coming in. It was becoming a Shifter bar, and it was on my never-ending to-do list to work out why and do something about it.
Ahead of me, Brad shoved Joey back, sending him stumbling into a table and knocking glasses all across the floor.
Great, just freaking great.
Behind me, I felt more than heard Derek rise from his seat. I ignored him. I could handle this. I had to handle this.
“You’re gonna apologize to Daisy!” Brad snarled.
“Apologize! For what? I gave her the best ride she’s had in years.”
I stepped between them. “Both of you, calm down now, or you’re banned for a month.”
For a moment, I thought it had worked. Joey hesitated, some of the anger leaving his face. But then Brad made a sound, half growl, half snort, and Joey’s control snapped. His fist shot out toward Brad, with me still in the way.
Time slowed as I watched the punch coming. I knew how to block it, but I never had the chance to put it into action. The punch never landed. One second, I was watching Joey’s fist heading straight toward my face, the next, Derek was in front of me, moving with that fluid grace that made him so lethal. His hand locked around Joey’s fist, stopping the punch mid-swing with ease, and twisting, forcing Joey to his knees.
“Ow! Fuck, man! You’re gonna break my hand!” Joey yelled.
Damn Derek fucking Shaw. Damn him for making it look so effortless. And damn my traitorous body for the way it immediately relaxed in his presence as his scent wrapped around me like a shield.
“Enough,” Derek growled. “Brad, talk to Daisy. She wanted to have fun with Joey. Joey obliged. There was nothing more to it. Joey, give the guy a break. He doesn’t want to hear who his sister slept with or how good or bad it was. Now both of you are gonna clear this up, apologize to Sofia, and are gonna work here, for free, every evening for the next month, washing dishes or doing whatever shit Sofia wants you to do. And if either of you does anything to put Sofia in a place where she could get hurt again, I’ll break both of your legs. Got it?”
Joey cradled his hand and stood up on wobbly legs. “Shit, I’m… I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too,” Brad mumbled, already bending down to pick up the pieces of glass. “Won’t happen again. I swear.”
I put my hands on my hips, a clear sign to anyone with a brain that I was in what Wally called my “DEFCON 1 mood” and whirled to face Derek, fury building in my chest until I could taste it, bitter and metallic on my tongue.
“I had it handled!”
He ignored my hands on my hips and crossed his arms, his expression infuriatingly calm. “Had it handled? Is that what you call standing directly in the path of a werewolf’s fist?”
“I was about to move.”
“Really? Because from where I was standing, you were about to get a free rhinoplasty.”
I stepped closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that playing the hero gets old real fast?”
“Has anyone ever told you that your self-preservation instinct is practically non-existent?” he countered, not backing down an inch.
“I don’t need you to fight my battles.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Not all of them. Just the ones where you’re outnumbered and out-muscled.”
Arrggghh. The man was insufferable.
I jabbed a finger at his chest. “Next time, stay in your seat.”
He caught my hand before I could pull it back, his touch sending an unwelcome jolt through my system.
“Next time,” he said quietly, “if I’m not here, duck.”
I yanked my hand away, hating how my skin tingled where he’d touched it. “I don’t need your advice. Or your help. Or your… constant hovering.”
“It’s not hovering. It’s strategic positioning.”
“Well, strategically position yourself somewhere else from now on.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Can’t do that, gorgeous.”
“Don’t call me gorgeous,” I snapped. He didn’t get to call me gorgeous, not after throwing me away.
“What should I call you, then?”
“Nothing. Don’t call me anything. In fact, don’t talk to me at all.”
“That’s going to make get-togethers at Ryan and Mai’s awkward.”
That was it; I had to get out of this conversation before I threw something at him.
I straightened up, jaw clenched, shot him one last glare, then whirled past him back to the bar. Next time, I was going to make sure I handled it. On my own. I didn’t need Derek. I didn’t need any man, or Shifter, or fated mate, coming in to rescue me. I was perfectly okay on my own.
Yes, perfectly, perfectly okay.