Page 18 of Wrestling With Werewolves

Goddess Alaya, help me. This is a problem. This is the biggest of fucking problems.

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER - LOLA

Alaya above, did I just tell Richard I’d hop on his bar?! Now that the words are out of my mouth, I feel like an idiot. It sounds like I’m talking about something totally different from the long wooden bar that runs along the left side of Bad Axe.

And we’re still standing close, our heads together, breath mingling. His dark eyes are locked firmly on my mouth, his jaw gritted tightly and working overtime. Oh my gods, I’m making this weird. I should step away from him.

Except something locks me in place. My eyes flick to his, his wolf’s green flashing from deep within. I’m staring at them both, something that’s deeply personal and considered rude to do without invitation. But he’s not moving either.

Inside my mind, my wolf stretches lazily and rises, pushing to the forefront of our shared space with wary interest.

I know the moment my eyes start to shine like Richard’s, because his blaze with his wolf’s otherworldly intensity. A low, rumbly growl leaves his throat—but it’s not Richard at all; it’s his wolf’s voice.

The center of the world spins and moves as I stare into his wolf’s fierce, amazing gaze. The predator inside him eyes me like he’s examining every inch of my soul. But then the baby lets out a timely purr and Richard’s green focus drops to the infant.

I take a full step away and sway the baby side to side, tickling his fat thigh. A deep sensation of being rocked and shaken swirls through me as Richard clears his throat. He forces a smile and points at my guitar. “Want me to set this behind the bar so you can grab something to eat?”

I nod and shrug the strap off, careful not to jostle the cooing baby on my hip. But at the brush of Richard’s fingers along my shoulder, I freeze in place, resisting the urge to step into that touch. His fingers brand my skin as my wolf paces against my chest, focused on him, eager to get another hit of his wolf’s attention.

What in the actual hells is going on here? She’s never cared about other alphas past a vague interest in my daily life.

Nonono! She cannot care about this one. He’s off-limits in every possible way. He’s Papá’s closest friend. I can’t!

Richard slings my guitar over his beefy shoulder and waves to the far right-hand side of the bar. “There’s a buffet over there. The bar food isn’t fancy, but I hope you enjoy it.” His grin broadens. “Come find me if you need a drink or you’re ready to hop on my bar.”

I’d swear there’s a teasing lilt to his words, but I can’t find it in me to do anything other than give a rushed thanks. As he turns to walk away, my wolf presses to the forefront of my focus, watching intently as the big alpha pushes carefully through the crowd, greeting and chatting with a half dozen shifters and centaurs on his way back to the bar.

Like an idiot, I watch until he disappears behind it. He sets my guitar down in a little nook out of the way. Someone must shout his name, because he turns, face breaking into a huge smile as he chatters back and forth with a patron.

And to firmly cement my idiocy, I stand in place, rubbing the baby’s chubby thigh while I stare at Richard and the effortless way he works the room and his pack, checking in, caring for everyone.

A hand on my elbow surprises me, but I turn with a practiced smile. Connall stands there with a big grin on his face. Oh goddess, did he catch me staring at Richard?

“Want me to take the baby, Lola? You can grab some food.”

I smile and shake my head. “Nah, I think I’ll keep him.” I shift the baby up until he nuzzles along my cheek like our people do. “Look how adorable he is.”

Connall’s incandescent green eyes drift to the baby and back to me. His grin grows broader. “You look like you’re having fun, but there’s no pressure here to put on a show. If you’re tired or wanna get outta here for a minute, find me and I’ll help.” He shrugs, eyes drifting to Richard. “Or find him, of course.”

“I’m good,” I say with a smile, rubbing my cheek along the baby’s as he grabs my chin and lets out a darling little purr.

Connall’s gaze goes thoughtful. He reaches out and strokes his long, freckled fingers down the baby’s back. The child’s purr grows louder, and he buries his face in my neck, snuffling, his breathing going heavy and deep.

“He’s falling asleep,” I chuckle. “You’ve got the magic touch, Connall.”

His grin goes huge. “Okay, I lied. I came to steal him because I love babies. Can I take him from you?”

When I look up to see if he’s serious, he wears such a hopeful expression, I can barely stand it. Goddess, men who love babies are my kryptonite.

I wonder how Richard feels about babies, as a concept. He’s never taken a mate, as far as I know.

Mentally, I slap myself and pull the tiny wolf from my arms, sliding him gently against Connall’s muscular chest.

The big alpha starts purring immediately when the baby nuzzles into his neck, getting comfortable, his tiny mouth dropped open. Connall looks so peaceful that it surprises me when he stiffens, green eyes flashing as he stares toward the front door. The expression is there and gone in half a second. I’d almost think I imagined it, but then two people join us.

“Yeh look good carryin’ a young one, alpha. Yeh on babysitting duty this evening?” A grinning blue sylph joins us with a human-looking woman beside him.

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