Page 24 of The Wolf in My Tavern

“Look at those eyes,” she says. “The ones he can’t take off you. You can always tell shifters by the eyes.”

“They are very blue,” I say, sounding a little breathless. I have no need to look over at Gray because his every feature is imprinted on my mind.

“So you have noticed, then? Does Callum have some competition for your affections?”

The tavern is heaving. I should not be gossiping with Betsy. She grins and follows me as I carry the next loaded tray to a table beside the fire.

Truth be told, I am intrigued by the giant man I’ve learned tonight is both an alpha and a wolf shifter with a knotted cock. I shouldn’t be noticing him when I have Callum with his wild ginger hair and handsome face, who claims he has never been with a lass, yet nevertheless harbors natural skills when it comes to pleasuring me. I want him to be with me—fully. I begged him Wednesday night. He said my first time should not be in a hay barn but a bed where he could prepare me fully to take him there without being rushed.

Given he can make me limp with pleasure in mere moments, I’m not sure what extra preparation could possibly be required.

My eyes go to the door. Callum and his father usually arrive about now. I get a little tingle between my thighs as I wonder if we might be able to slip out the back…

I miraculously make it to the table full of city guards without a single pinch or pat. They take their ale with a cheer and dump the coin for me to collect. I’m about to head back to the bar when an arm snakes around my waist.

“Ada, lass!” a guard says, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Your pretty blush brightens up the day.”

Goodness, it’s particularly rowdy tonight. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this. As I’m making my way to the bar through the crowd, I see Gray staring at me.

He looks angry.

I gulp. Was I slow with his beer?

“Do you have Gray’s ale?” I ask Betsy as I reach the bar. Tim is busy pulling pints, and Gareth is changing out a barrel. “He looks angry. I think I have been too slow.”

“Ha!” she says. “His sour expression has naught to do with the arrival of his ale. I thought he was going to go over and thump that guard as sat you on his lap. And I heard him growl when that handsy dockworker patted your ass… Here, these are for the table left of the fire. The last ale is Gray’s.”

I weave through the crowd again, dropping off ale and collecting coins until I’ve done everybody except for the final beer for Gray. By the time I reach his table, I’m thoroughly flustered, had my bottom pinched numerous times, and the noise has reached a raucous din.

He reaches into his pocket and slides a coin across the table.

“Thank you, sir.”

He takes his beer with a grunt. I practically fly back to the bar to collect the tray with his food, which I am prompt to deliver, receiving another grunt.

As I get lost in the rush of duty, I wonder what a shifter is doing here. Whether he is part of the secret side of The Green Man that you cannot help but notice when you work and live here, or whether he is part of something else.

Chapter Ten

Gray

“Isee the lass is working tonight, then,” Drake says as he slides into the seat beside me.

I scowl at him. She works every night, so that is not much of a revelation. “You think I’d come here if she weren’t?” I say, before I can think better about the dangerous waters I’ve just plunged headfirst into.

Drake chuckles. “Good point. You’d be scouring the streets looking for her.”

“Fuck off,” I mutter without heat. Not that I care what Drake thinks about my decisions that lead to yet another bowl of stew.

Time changes things—our mindset, our ways, and our desires—and I need to remind myself that I am here for a reason.

He nods his head at my lamb stew before me. “Good?”

I came straight here after our day out following up on leads… and because I was fucking impatient to check on the lass.

“Edible,” I grunt, just as Betsy weaves through the rowdy patrons to drop a pint in front of Drake.

“Can I interest you in the stew?” she asks him with a smile. The wench is pretty and popular with the patrons, whether they can persuade her to slip out back with them or must make do with crumbs as she drops off their orders. I saw her sneak away with three sailors not long ago. They returned with a swagger. She returned with a blush on her cheeks.

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