Page 8 of Tempting Her Dragons

“So?”

“So she could get hurt.” He glares as if I made the decision not to hire a cook.

“Cooking?” I wrinkle my nose.

“Possibly,” he says.

“Oh, please. How long have women been having babies?”

“She needs to rest,” Bishop says.

“You both are ridiculous,” I say. “How about you volunteer to make her a meal? Without demanding she sits,” I suggest. “She isn’t helpless. She is a dragon and is having a baby dragon.” I move to the fridge to get the creamer. “Rub her feetafter she makes a fucking meal if she’s determined to cook.” I pour a steady stream of creamy vanilla, my mouth watering in anticipation of the first sip. “Order out and have a movie night. How did you get her to agree to mate with you? Do that.”

“You don’t want to hear what we did,” Laken retorts with a rare joke.

“Yuck, don’t tell me.” I wrap my hands around my cup and slowly bring it to my lips. They’re in a good mood; I should tell them before someone else does.

“Are you working tonight?” Bishop asks, looking at his watch.

“Yep,” I reply, sipping and closing my eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be there?”

“What?” I blink, twisting my head to the clock on the microwave. “Oh, fuck.”

“We thought you had the night off.” Laken takes the coffee cup I shove in his direction.

“I only got one sip,” I cry, running towards my room. I should have been at work thirty minutes ago. I slam the door and dive into my closet. Luckily, Ryker lets us wear whatever we want, but I should have picked out an outfit last night. I have to show a man the error of his ways after work.

I tap my lip while staring at my clothes. What says, ‘waitress and torturous queen?’

Leather pants?

Ripped jeans?

Maybe a flirty dress that says, ‘Yes, I can be girly and kill you.’

“Just pick something,” Bishop says through the door, and I grimace.

I am so not a good waitress.

I broke all traffic laws, and my tires squealed as I parked behind the club. I lock my car and run to the back door, biting my lip, my eyes glued to the hot coffee in my hand. I would have gotten here sooner, but I took the time to stop and get coffee. On the way, I called Rach, the nice coyote shifter who works there, and she had my order ready to go. I need to take her up on her offer to take me out for a meal. She seems sweet, and I could always use another friend. We have graduated from polite greetings while I’m waiting for my coffee to sharing bits and pieces about our lives. Nothing too serious. We finally took the plunge: exchanging numbers. We’ve texted a bit, but haven’t followed through with our promise to meet outside the coffee shop.

I decided on the leather pants. I love how they feel against my skin, and they make my legs look even longer, and they hug my ass perfectly. My shirt is red, long-sleeved, tight at the waist, but loose across my neck so one side falls off my shoulder. I left my hair down but brought a hair tie. I don’t want to get blood in my hair later.

I haul ass down the hallway and screech to a halt. Ryker is standing at the end. It doesn’t look like he cares what I’m wearing.

“I’m sorry,” I yell. “Blame my brothers. They woke me up and decided to give me shit.” I cringe at the weak excuse. He glances at the cup in my hand and I smile sheepishly.

“It seems I should be thanking them,” he drawls. “They woke you.”

“True, true,” I whisper. I widen my eyes, making sure to blink a few times. “Am I fired?”

He narrows his eyes. “My mate is the only one who can pull that trick on me.” He crosses his arms and leans against the wall. “You aren’t fired.”

“Thank you, you won’t regret it,” I gush. “You’re the best.” I’m lucky; I don’t need a job for the money. Micah and my brothershave supplied me with everything I need and the woman I considered a mother left me enough to be comfortable for the rest of my life. I work a regular job to feel a little normal after a life filled with unusual experiences.

“I’m sure I will regret it,” he mumbles. “But you are family.”

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