The Beast in Him (4 page)

“Of course. That must be it.” Adelle patted his shoulder. “You want another steak? It’ll make you feel better.” He’d already had two.

“I could eat again.”

She smiled and grabbed a plate off the tray of a passing waiter.

The waiter stopped. “That’s for table ten.”

“So?”

“They’ve been waiting for forty-five minutes.” Saturday nights were the busiest nights for the Van Holtz restaurants, yet Adelle didn’t move any faster or do any more than she did on the slowest night of the year.

“Are they important?”

Now Smitty laughed. “Adelle.”

“What? It’s a valid question.”

The waiter leaned close to Adelle and whispered, “It’s Jessica Ward, boss.”

Smitty blinked in surprise. “Jessica Ann Ward?”

“Yeah.” The waiter grinned. “Another one of her first dates if I’m guessing right.”

Pushing past the two females, Smitty opened the door and glared across the restaurant.

“I really don’t know why the woman bothers,” Adelle sighed behind him. “She has to be the pickiest canine on the planet. She’s had some hottie-hots in here and she leaves ’em standing at the corner—alone—every time.”

Smitty spotted the “couple”—he almost choked on that—immediately, his eyes narrowing when he saw the bastard take Jessie’s hand.

Didn’t she know she had to be careful in this day and age? The scrawny bastard probably just wanted one thing from her and she didn’t even realize it.

“What’s wrong, baby boy?”

“Nothing. Give ’em their food.”

“You don’t want it?”

“No, thanks, Adelle.”

Adelle shrugged and placed the plate back on the tray.

Yup, Phil was right again. Sherman Landry of the Landry wild-dog Pack was really boring. Almost painfully boring and with a case of OCD the likes she’d never seen. And hoped to never see again.

He adjusted the butter knife on the table for the fourteenth time in the last forty-five minutes, and asked, “So do you have any plans for the long weekend coming up in a couple of weeks?”

Uh-oh.

“As a matter of fact, I do. With my Pack.”

“Oh.” He looked so disappointed. Like a Labrador that just got his bone taken away. “And the charity ball at the museum?”

Good God, Jess! Think of something. Something! She couldn’t do this again. Not again. Dating was hard enough, but dating a guy this irritating was asking too much of her.

To be honest, Jess didn’t know why she bothered anymore. She’d been dating wild dogs solidly for the past year. Some of them coming from Europe and Asia to take her out. Most of them were nice, but none of them got her all sweaty and squirmy. And the thought of breeding with any of them left her cold. Jess would admit it, she was ready. Ready to have her own pups. Her own mate. She’d helped raise her Packmates’ kids for fifteen years, and it was time she had her own little nightmares to contend with. But the thought of Sherman Landry’s obsessive-compulsive nature helping to raise any of her kids did nothing but make her feel a little ill.

“I’m going with my Pack.”

“Of course,” he said, his disappointment evident. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that tone when talking about her Pack. As much as they didn’t like him, Jess sensed he didn’t like them either.

Too bad for him. Her Pack meant too much to her to bring in someone who’d cause nothing but problems between them.

“Yeah... well.” Since she had nothing else to say, Jess wiped her mouth on a linen napkin. “I’ll be right back. Need to go to the ladies’ room.”

She stood up, forcing a smile when he stood up as well. Say what you would about Sherman, he was definitely polite.

Jess walked toward the back until she hit the ladies’ room, which she always called “the marble palace.” She brought nearly every date to this restaurant because she knew even if the date sucked, the filet mignon was always perfection.

As she washed her hands and used the thick paper towels to dry them, she realized she couldn’t put in another hour on this date. She’d finished her steak, now Sherman wanted dessert. And all she wanted was to get back to the office. The last week of preparation for Friday night’s party had put her behind, and she realized now this Saturday date had been a huge mistake.

She pulled her cell phone out of her way too small purse—she’d give anything to have her backpack with her—and sent Phil a text message. It was a simple one:

GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!

Confident her friends would come through with no further prompting, Jess dropped her cell back into her bag and spun around—right into the brawny chest of some guy. A guy in a ladies’ room.

Letting out a strangled scream, she started swinging. As usual, it wasn’t pretty, much more a flailing wildly. She’d never been a very good fighter when human.

But the man caught hold of her, pinning her arms to her sides. Her fangs slid out and she started to go for his neck when she heard, “Jessie Ann! Would you calm down!”

Shocked, she leaned back and stared up into the face of Bobby Ray Smith. Damn him! Why did he have to look so freakin’ good?

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. “Why are you in the ladies’ room?”

“Can’t a man use a ladies’ room if he feels like it?”

“No, he can’t. And do you mind getting your paws off me?” He did and Jess stepped back, but her ass hit the sink. Trying to look casual and not fall on her ass, she sauntered around him and tossed out her paper towel.

“How long were you standing there anyway? Or is this some weird kinky shit you’ve started doing since you joined the Marines?”

“The Navy, Jessie Ann. I joined the Navy.”

“Whatever.”

Bobby Ray looked at the door, then back at her. “Did you not know I was in here with you the entire time you were washing your hands—and mumbling to yourself like my crazy Aunt Ju-ju?”

Dammit. She really had to work on the talking to herself thing. “I knew.”

“But not until you turned around.”

“Look, I’ve got a lot on my mind. I can’t be aware of everything constantly.”

“But... ” He looked so adorably confused all she wanted to do was punch him in the face. “You’re one of us. How could you not know I was right behind you?”

“I—”

“You couldn’t scent me? Hear me? Are you still that oblivious?”

How did he manage to do it again? Turn her into a sixteen-year-old? She clearly remembered getting these long lectures from him about being safe and aware of what was going on around her. “You can’t live your life in them books, Jessie Ann,” he’d always tell her. Like she’d want to spend a second of her day facing her reality. She usually received these lectures while she hid under bleachers or up in trees. The leopard family that lived near Smithtown territory thought she was “just the cutest thing” because she actually knew how to climb trees.

But that was a very long time ago. She wasn’t that battered little girl hiding from a bunch of ravening She-pups. She was Jessica Ann Ward, CEO of Kuznetsov Security Systems and Alpha Female of the Kuznetsov Pack. And yet, here she stood, getting lectured to by this giant-headed mangy wolf.

Sure, she could yell at him. Scream at him even. But that wouldn’t register with Bobby Ray Smith. No, there was only one way to get under a Smith’s skin. Especially this Smith.

“Look, Bubba Ray—”

His eyes narrowed to glowing-amber slits. “It’s Bobby Ray, as you damn well know. My daddy is Bubba.”

“Bubba. Bobby.” She gave a dismissive wave. “Sweetie, does it really matter?” For a brief second, she though he might hit her.

When he didn’t, she patted his shoulder. “It’s really sweet of you to care. Really. But I actually have someone waiting for me and,” she wrinkled up her nose and whispered, “not to tell you your business, but shouldn’t you be watching the front door? I wouldn’t want you to get fired.” When he stared at her with his mouth slightly open, she innocently asked, “You are restaurant security, right?” Frighteningly entertained, Jess rubbed his sweater-covered bicep a bit. “Well, I do have to go. You take care now, Bobby Joe.”

Jess walked to the door and pulled it open. As she stepped into the hallway, she heard him growl, “It’s Bobby Ray.”

Smiling and feeling like she’d won the lottery, Jess sauntered back to the table. Before she could sit down, her cell phone went off.

She flipped it open. “This is Jessica?”

“I’m calling to rescue you from a fate worse than death. Dessert with Sherman the Dull.”

“Oh, my God. Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure he’s really dull—just like I warned you he would be,” Phil went on smugly. “You never listen to me.”

“Okay. Okay. I understand. I’m leaving right now.”

Jess closed her phone and gave Sherman her best pout. “I’m so sorry, Sherman. But I have to run. Trouble at the Pack house.”

“Of course, of course.” He stood and she waved him back into his seat. “My car is waiting outside. You have dessert and I’ll talk to you later.” She thought about kissing him on the cheek, but the thought made her wince, so she patted him on the shoulder instead. “Thank you for a lovely dinner.” Then she headed for the door. The maître d’, whom she knew on a first-name basis, already had her coat on his arm. She snatched it from him, rolled her eyes at his grin, and charged out of the restaurant. Her driver already had the car door open and she practically leaped inside.

“Home?” her driver asked.

“Nah, office. I’ve gotta salvage this crappy evening somehow.”

Although torturing Bobby Ray Smith would definitely go down as the highlight of her night... if not her year.

He didn’t move until Adelle walked into the bathroom and tugged on his sweater. “Are you all right, Bobby Ray?”

“She called me Bubba. She keeps thinking I was in the Marines.” He finally looked down into Adelle’s concerned face. “Has the universe gone insane?”

He paced away from her. “I mean, this is Jessie Ann, for God’s sake. Little Jessie Ann Ward. I used to have to coax her out from under the bleachers like a squirrel from a tree. She was insanely in love with me, and now she’s calling me Bubba?”

“Uh, Bobby Ray, there are women waiting to use the bath—”

“And for her to stand there and act like I was some sort of pest she was trying to wave off her food is just too much. She adored me!”

Adelle shrugged. “I guess she grew out of it.”

But he hadn’t grown out of it. How the hell could she?

Raising her hands at his glare, Adelle stepped back. “Why don’t I, uh, reroute the ladies outside to the men’s room and you take your time... snarling. In here. And when you’re ready, there’s a forty-ounce cut of steak and a bottle of tequila waiting for you in the kitchen.”

Then she turned and fled the room. Snarling, like Adelle said he could, Smitty stalked over to the bathroom sink. He stared at himself in the mirror. Fangs. His fangs were out! He let a woman get to him so much he’d unleashed his fangs? The universe had gone insane!

“This is so not over,” he told his reflection. “Not by a long shot.”

There had to be a reason Jessie Ann Ward kept treating him like dog shit on her shoe, and he’d sure as hell find out why.

CHAPTER 3

“You called her Spot?”

His sister looked up at him in surprise. Probably because he never yelled. At her or anyone else. But no wonder Jessie Ann had looked right through him the last two nights he’d seen her. Who wanted to remember being called Spot?

“Lassie had been done, darlin’,” his sister said as an explanation.

He didn’t know how this particular event became a monthly one. Meeting with Mace, his sister, Sissy Mae, Ronnie Lee, Ronnie Lee’s mate Brendon Shaw, and Mace’s wife Dez for Sunday brunch at the Kingston Arms, Shaw’s hotel. This specific dining room was hidden away from full-humans and catered mostly to their kind. A neutral space for all breeds. And the best damn French toast a body could ever have.

“It wasn’t just that, Sissy Mae,” Ronnie reminded her. “It was also her hair. All those colors in one head. It was tragic. It didn’t look punk or anything. It just looked stupid.”

“She’s a wild dog,” Smitty growled out, trying his best to control his growing rage. A rage he rarely, if ever, used. “All wild dogs have those colors unless they dye their hair.”

“Then she should have dyed it. ’Cause all she did was make herself a big ol’ target.”

“I don’t get it,” Dez said around a spoonful of oatmeal and her son hissing in her arms. “What’s the difference between you guys and the wild dogs?”

As quick as it came, Smitty felt his rage slip away. Dez did have that effect on him. She so easily fell into momentous shifter faux pas that she never failed to amuse him. Sometimes it was like watching a train wreck.

It took a moment, but Dez suddenly realized she had the attention of the entire room. Her mate leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, waiting with a smile to see how she got out of this one. Glancing around, Dez shrugged. “What?”

Sissy opened her mouth to say something, but Ronnie cut in before Sissy said something that would damage what had turned into a very healthy friendship among the three women.

“We’re wolves,” Ronnie Lee explained simply. “The wild dogs are, literally, dogs.”

“Some say the first dogs,” Mace added helpfully while stealing bacon off his wife’s plate.

Sissy Mae pushed her empty plate away. “Forget all that. Why did you bring her up anyway, Bobby Ray?”

“I met her at that job we had Friday night.” He couldn’t mention last night’s meeting. Not even to Mace. He still couldn’t believe it. She’d called him Bubba. She might as well have spit in his face.

Mace shook his head, smiling as his son hissed and swiped at him when his father took toast off Dez’s plate. “Forget it, Smitty. You are so out of her league. She barely remembered you.”

Sissy and Ronnie exchanged glances.

“Out of whose league?” Sissy asked. “Jessie Ann’s?”

“She may have been Jessie Ann when you knew her. But she’s Jessica Ann Ward now. And you, my hillbilly friend, don’t stand a chance.”

Dez sat up a little straighter. “Are you guys talking about Jess Ward? Christ, I haven’t seen her in ages.”