“Table?”
I turn. A woman in a blue uniform, including a hat and apron, is smiling at me. Okay, well, she’s smiling at him, but she jerks her gaze to look at me, a menu in hand.
“Uh, yeah, thanks.”
She starts leading me to a table, and I follow her, feeling foolish. Glancing back once, I see he’s still frozen at the door, staring after me, but then he shakes himself and heads for the door. Like maybe, just maybe, he felt the same connection I’d felt.
But it’s stupid. He’s a stranger. One I’ll probably never see again.
The waitress stops at a booth by the window. I scoot in and sit down, then watch as the handsome man passes a kid with a dog. My heart aches a little as I look at the dog. It looks like it survived being hit by a car, with one leg that isn’t as straight as the others. It’s mostly bare of fur. And then there are scars across the lower half of his body. I’m honestly surprised the injuries didn’t kill it. The man grins, kneels down, and pets the golden retriever before he slips the boy some money and nods toward the bar before getting up and crossing the street.
Part of me wants him to look back, a sign that he felt whatever I did, but the waitress comes again, and I order a Dr. Pepper. When I glance back up, he’s disappeared into the bar.I have no idea if he looked back or not, but if I was a different woman, a smarter, smoother woman, I have a feeling that me and Mr. DogTags would be in the back fucking right now.
So much for making new, happy memories.
FOUR
Max
I find a corner booth and slide into it, then flag down a waitress and order a tall beer. Normally, I wouldn’t drink while on the job, but today isn’t a normal day. Today, I see my brother for the first time since we both joined the military when we turned eighteen eight years ago. We’d talked since then,a lot, and frequently, but talking on the phone and actually seeing each other are two completely different things.
Especially given the circumstances.
The fact that both our jobs require a lot of classified work means meeting in person would be very different than our phone calls. Because while we speak to each other often, we both understand that there is a lot we aren’t saying, and that always creates some distance. With friends. In relationships. In everything in life. Distance I hope to ease with this next step.
But at least hegetsme, even if we’re very different people. And that’s a rare and special thing.
The waitress comes back and puts a beer down in front of me. "Anything else, sweetie?" She flashes me a smile, but it's hesitant. Something I'm used to.
When you go around dressed like a character from Men in Black people tend to treat you like you're someone to watch out for. Mob boss ready to snap my fingers and kill someone? The government here to make you disappear? I like to think I dress nice enough not to be confused with any other government agent, but who the hell knows? Maybe that's just in my head.
"I'm good. Just meeting someone. Although he'll probably have beer too."
"Should I bring one now?" She shifts from one foot to the other. Maybe a sign she's been on her feet all day and just wants to take a load off. Or a sign that she wants to get as far from my table as possible. I’d need to observe her longer to be sure which.
"No, it's okay, he won't want it flat, and he has a tendency to be late." I try to offer her a smile, but I know it doesn't reach my eyes.
"Just let me know," she says, then hurries away from me to go check on her other table on the far side of the bar.
Which leaves me alone and bored, trying not to care that my brother is late. I try hard not to see it as a sign that I made a mistake with all of this, because that's a thought path I don't want to go down right now.
My mind drifts to the white-haired spitfire waiting for me at the diner. A sigh longs to escape from the back of my throat. The woman is… irritating to say the least. Completely illogical. And a pain in the ass. If she wasn’t essential to this mission, I’d have been done with her long ago.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. If I told my bosses that Asha wouldn’t be helpful with this mission, they’d immediately have her locked up. Not because she’s shown any signs of being a dangerous Blood Mage, but because regardless of the fact that she’s shown herself to be just like any other supernatural, sheisa Blood Mage now. And no amount of good behavior will change her label.
So even though she’s irritating, frustrating as hell, I’ll deal with her. Because I understand her desire to find the last members of her pack. To try to save them from the dark magic that calls to them. And no matter how different we are, I can respect a person with those kinds of motivations.
Even though there’s the other issue with her. The one that bothers me more than anything else. The one that makes it hard for me to sleep… hard for me to be close to her or to touch her. Asha's personality and mine might be opposite ends of a spectrum, but I'm drawn to her beyond anything I can comprehend. In a way that makes my mouth dry. In a way that makes me say all the dumbest things to her. She makes me feel like a boy trying to give his crush a flower.
And I donotenjoy feeling this way.
I'm usually very focused and never have to worry about any sexual affairs getting in the way of my work. With Asha, I'm terrified that my self-control won’t be strong enough. And self-control is one thing I value above all else. Without it, I believe most shifters would completely give in to their animal sides. The sides that often get us into trouble.
Still, I briefly let myself wonder if things could be different if she was a full shifter.Perhaps, she'd even be my mate?I shake my head, surprised by the anger that rises inside of me. Feeling a connection to someone and actually finding one's mate are two entirely different things. Yes, it bothers me to see her in pain from her nightmares. And it bothers me that a deep instinct inside of me screams to keep her safe. But, I take a deep breath, none of that means anything. Not really.
I care about people. That’s just how I am.
But to that level? It’s just plain unsettling.