Page 2 of A Merry Misfit Christmas

I can’t help the chuckle that bursts through. “A what?”

“They’re all the rage these days,” Beanie says, handing me the second coffee before she heads to the cash register. “I just think it’ll help me with respect to my inventory. Plus, she claims the aesthetics or something like that will promote feelings of calm.”

“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me, Beanie,” I retort, handing her a twenty. “Keep the change. It’s getting to be that time of the year.”

“Thanks, Kodiak.”

“Thankyou, Beanie,” I state before I head out to my bike so I can get to the gym.

As my ass plants on my seat, I think about what Beanie told me. A professional organizer? How is that a job? I shake my head before pulling on my helmet and firing up my ride, heading to work.

The gym is packed when I arrive. It’s common to see the lot full on most days, but with the snow, I thought fewer members would show up. Not the case today. I circle around to the back and park in the designated employee lot, specifically the space next to Peanut. Since we own the gym, we painted our spaces so no one else will park in them. Both saymanagerin white.

I don’t want anyone to hit my Harley or ding it like what happened at the damn grocery store a few months ago, so I get pissed if anyone parks close. Just thinking about that incident gets my blood heated. Being on two wheels instead of four doesn’t mean I don’t have as much right on the road. Peanut understands this, and we both like the designated spots. Plus, it’s our fuckin’ gym.

I’ve chugged the first coffee as I stand in the cold, letting the caffeine hit my stomach, and the warmth seep into my body. The second is in my hand in a flash. I gulp it down, too, noting that it’s still hot, but nothing I can't handle.

I head inside, stopping at my locker to grab my gym bag. I need to change and get in a workout because this restless feeling in my body won’t go away. It’s gotten worse in the time since I left Beanie’s Brew. I try not to think about the reason and fail.

Callie, the redhead. My mate.

Thinking about how I spilled her drink all over the front of her sweater has me amped up, and I snarl as I change, going straight to the treadmill where I push my body for forty-five minutes. It doesn’t help. I move to the punching bag and pull on my boxing gloves. I’m getting a good rhythm going until her face appears in my mind. Those big green eyes. Pillow-soft, kissable lips. The bag pops out of sync and bounces off my chin.

Fuck.

I rip off the gloves and toss them on the floor, deciding I should shower. Maybe the hot water will soothe my aching muscles and calm the raging storm inside me. But it doesn’t work either. I grow hard while I scrub my body with soap, giving my cock a few sharp tugs as I shiver. Callie’s face is all I can see in my mind’s eye, and I want more. I wanther.

This isn’t the place to jerk off or fantasize about my woman. I’m not painting the fucking wall with my cum in a public shower, whether or not the club owns the fucking place. I shut off the water and towel dry, yanking on my clothes. I’m fucking frustrated in more ways than one.

Peanut spots me as I leave the locker room and waves me over. “The fuck has you all worked up?”

“What do you mean?” I growl, ignoring the curious looks of the staff.

Peanut grins. “A woman got you twisted, huh?”

How the fuck does he know that? “Shut up.”

“Itisa woman,” he snickers. “You meet your mate or something?”

He’s joking. I know he is until he sees the look on my face. “Kodiak?”

“Not here,” I grumble, marching toward the office we share. It’s a large space we sectioned off when we first bought this building. I have my office across from his, and there’s a reception area in the front with a few chairs and tall plants. It’s supposed to make the space feel welcoming or some shit. No one ever comes in here except the two of us unless someone needs to use the copier or fax something, but that isn’t often. The copier is in Peanut’s office because the noise irritates me. We never hired a receptionist because we never needed one. The staff answers the phone, and we have a messaging service for the main gym line.

Peanut shuts the door behind him as he enters after me, watching me pace. He stays quiet, sensing I need to work through what’s going on in my head. He’s right. I do.

All my brothers share a connection. It’s difficult to explain to outsiders. We’re linked by brotherhood and enjoyment of the open road, freedom, and the wind on our backs as we ride, but that’s only part of it. It’s not mind-reading or anything too complex. Just the ability to sense each other’s mood and if there’s danger. Maybe it’s the shifter in us all that reads body language and understands unspoken cues.

“I found her,” I finally mutter, clenching my fists. “And I fucked it up.”

“Wait.” Peanut holds up a meaty hand. Elephant shifters aren’t exactly delicate. “You sayin’ you found your mate? As inyour mate?”

“Is there any other?” I snarl with agitation.

“Damn.” He stares at me for a few seconds. “What did you do?”

“I bumped into her and spilled her hot chocolate down the front of her sweater. Fucking ruined it. She stomped off, pissed at me. Wouldn’t even accept a new drink or my apology.”

Peanut is laughing by the time I finish. “You fucker,” I growl.

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