Page 107 of The Alpha's Protective Mate

“Terrence,” I grimace. “He and Clyde studied the language together. But he won’t decode it for me. I don’t think he will, anyway. But I can give it a shot—”

“No.” Robert’s expression tightens. “We’ll find another way.”

I can see the frustration in his eyes, and I wish I could help.

As Jazz calls out to him to pick up his order, he takes out his wallet. I roll my eyes at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got it.”

Grinning, Robert steals a kiss from me. “Ricky’s going to come pick you up here today, so be good and wait for him.”

I don’t get the chance to say anything because Robert’s already walking away from me.

Jazz sighs as I come to stand by the counter. “The way he looks at you! I would give anything to have a man look at me like that.”

I eye her questioningly, and she gives me a rueful smile. “I broke things off with Marcus. Dad was right, I guess. With me busy all the time, my lovely boyfriend decided to entertain himself in other ways. Caught him in bed with Sally, one of his fans.”

“I’m sorry, Jazz.” I give her a sympathetic look.

She shrugs. “It is what it is. Besides, I was starting to get sick of wearing that stupid collar of his. Next guy I date is going to be a straight arrow. No more of this kinky shit.”

The bell at the entrance rings, and I squeeze Jazz’s hand. “You were too good for Marcus anyway.”

Suddenly, I can feel the new customer’s energy.

Wolf shifter.

I’m about to sneak to the back room when I remember I’m wearing the bracelet.

As Jazz takes the shifter’s order, I study her. She’s pretty with dark hair. She’s wearing sunglasses, so I can’t see her eyes. I’m busying myself restocking the coffee grounds when two more women walk in.

Also shifters.

Since Jazz is busy with the first customer, I smile at the two women, comfortable knowing they don’t know what I am.

“Hi, what can I get you ladies?”

They don’t smile back, a ruthless gleam in their eyes as they look at me. It’s hard to maintain the frozen smile on my face.

When they don’t say anything, I point at the chalkboard by the entrance. “We have a few Halloween specials, if you’re interested.”

“Two flat whites,” one of the women says. “Hot.”

“Of course.”

As I turn around to prepare their drinks, my chest feels uncomfortable. I can’t help but recall the night Arabella attacked me. I don’t know why, but my guard is up. As I prepare the drink, the girls become chatty all of a sudden.

“So, are you a barista full time?”

“Yes,” I reply reluctantly, not wanting to engage them.

“It must be hard, serving other people all day.”

There is a mocking tone in their voices. Their words don’t bother me, though. I don’t have a problem with my job. I like it. But they clearly seem to think it is beneath them.

“Jazz, can you ring them up?” I glance at my friend; she’s watching the two women, a strange look in her eyes. The customer she was serving is now sitting at one of the tables, sipping her drink.

“Sure.” Jazz rings up their order, and when the women move away from me, I feel relieved.

I place their coffees on the counter. “Here you go.”

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