“I’m not usually up this early. On the occasion that I am, I grab a pastry from the bakery.”
“Sweets for the sweet,” Lincoln said. “I’ll remember that.”
“I’m not really sweet.” She tried to glare at him over the rim of her coffee cup, but his sleepy eyes and soft smile were just so cute.
“Difference of opinion then.” He poured a cup of coffee for himself and sat on the bar stool next to her.
“Okay,” she said, swiveling toward him. “You spill the beans. I want to know every word I said to you.”
“I don’t have that much time. You became quite chatty after that third beer.”
“Why did you let me keep drinking?”
“You have pretty, white teeth, Angel. And they looked very sharp when you snarled at me for trying to pry the bottle of Jack from your hand.”
She-wolves didn’t blush from embarrassment, but Angeline certainly felt mortified at her lack of self-control. “Why didn’t you leave?”
“Clearly, you were upset. And drinking the way you did, I wasn’t going to leave you alone. Something could’ve happened to you.”
“Did anything happen?” They were both fully dressed when she woke up, but she really didn’t remember much about last night.
“No,” Lincoln said without hesitation and holding her gaze. “You drank, said a lot of nonsensical things, and then you fell asleep. I stayed in case you got sick.” He lifted the coffee cup to his mouth to drink.
“You’re a good guy, Lincoln. Thanks.” Angeline swallowed another mouthful of coffee, too. “So what sort of stuff did I talk about?”
“Your mom. You miss her a lot.”
True, Angeline did miss her mother. And she missed how differently her life would’ve been if her mother hadn’t been murdered during a mugging.
“You also kept saying if I were Tristan, you would tell me a lot more.” Curiosity edged around the uncertainty glimmering in his eyes. “Sounds like you and Tristan have been more than just friendly neighbors.”
A subtle tension crept into Lincoln’s body and his gaze left her face.
“No.” Angeline shook her head. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“It’s okay,” Lincoln said. “I don’t need an explanation.”
He might not, but Angeline’s instinct pushed her to clarify. “Tristan is like a brother, but closer than my own. He knows things about me that my family and other friends don’t.”
“Maybe you should’ve called him last night instead of inviting me in.” Lincoln carried his cup to the sink.
“Tristan has a mate now.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“I don’t expect him to be my confidant anymore. It wouldn’t be right.”
Lincoln finished rinsing out his coffee cup. “I guess you’re in search of a new one and I didn’t cut the mustard.”
“I barely know you.” How could she trust him the way she trusted Tristan, who’d been there for her for most of their lives? “Is it true that you’re retiring from the Program?”
“That’s what people keep telling me.”
Not exactly the answer she wanted to hear.
“Well, who knows?” She shrugged. “If you stick around long enough—” They might eventually become friends...good friends...really good friends with full moon benefits.
“I’m not planning on it,” he said abruptly. “Neither should you.”
Well, if that wasn’t a door being slammed in her face...
“Thanks for playing watchdog last night.” She walked to her front door and opened it. “But I’m in control of all my faculties now. Time for you to leave.”
He dried his hands on the dish towel, walked to the door and stepped outside into the breaking dawn.
“Angeline.” He turned around. Of the myriad of emotions flickering across his face, confusion, regret, loneliness—those were the ones that tugged her heart strings.
Damn, she was too soft.
“I have a really busy day,” Angeline lied. She didn’t have to be at the restaurant until the afternoon. “See you around.”
Locking the door, she hoped her heart took notice. Lincoln was no different than Tanner. Dogmen lived for the Program. Nothing and no one else mattered. And she would never put herself through that turmoil ever again.
Lincoln stepped into the Walker’s Run Resort and shook off the cold. A large fireplace in the rustic seating area crackled with flames, and red roses and hearts decorated the main lobby. A Happy Valentine’s Day banner hung behind the guest services counter. Coming from a part of the world where conflict and violence had become commonplace, he found the commercialization of love off-putting.
Intentionally early for his meeting, Lincoln walked to a seating area near the fireplace and sat in a high-backed leather chair to watch everyone coming and going. Brice had invited him to meet the security team leaders and unofficially consult on the upgrade process of the pack’s well-being. He’d also given Lincoln access to the resort’s state-of-the-art gym, which he planned to use to continue his fitness training.
Two sentinels dressed as resort employees casually patrolled the lobby. Outside, Lincoln had noted at least three sentinels working valet and four handling bell service. Lincoln expected those numbers would increase, depending on the number of non-pack wolfans registered for rooms.
He turned his attention to the three offices with interior glass windows that faced the lobby. Two offices were dark, but the middle one had the blinds up and the light on. Cassie sat at a desk, her back straight and her fingers tapping on a computer keyboard.
Hands paused and she turned, looking directly at him.
He gave a slight nod as she waved.
A few minutes later, limping, Brice walked slowly out of the corridor. Cassie’s attention turned to him.
Brice gave her a wink, which broadened her smile. Nearly an entity in and of itself, the palpable love bouncing between them was a phenomenon Lincoln had never witnessed.
His parents loved each other and loved him, in their own way. But their mateship, and their family life, had been centered on being the best of the best. Life was a competition to win and affection merely distracted one from the ultimate end goal.
If Lincoln had remembered what his family had taught, he wouldn’t have allowed his emotions to lead him and his team into a trap. While in Walker’s Run, he needed to stay focused on his mission and not be led astray by indulging in errant emotions and human customs, or he would screw up his chance to get back on active duty and lose the only opportunity he had to find Dayax.
“Tristan’s office is on the third floor,” Brice said, approaching.
Lincoln matched Brice’s stride but remained a half step behind him. As progressive as some wolfan packs were, a natural pecking order remained. Brice, the Alpha-in-waiting and a direct descendant of the first Alpha of Walker’s Run, deserved his respect.
The Wahyas of Walker’s Run had done well in choosing an Alpha family who, through the generations, had remained committed to serving the pack rather than accumulating wealth and power.
Not that the Alpha family didn’t have both. The difference being that they shared the wealth and utilized the power for the benefit of the pack.
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