George's Turn [Brac Pack 8] (2 page)

He set a plate of fried chicken and mashed potatoes on the counter as he looked around the place, noticing a table with three large men sitting there. They were nice looking but not George’s type. He liked his men slim and shorter than him, and being a very dominate male, he wanted submissive men. Jesse had been perfect. Too bad he was a cowardly prick.

George shook off the memory as he went back to cooking.

* * * *

Tank sat with Hawk and Kota. His Commander and Beta insisted
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he go to lunch with them. When they insisted, no one argued. They said that Alpha Maverick had one of his damn dreams again and sent them all to lunch on him. Ever since Maverick claimed his mate, Cecil, he had been having dreams occasionally, sending the Sentries off on missions with the end result that someone found a mate.

Tank looked around the diner, wondering if this was the case with him. With all the wolves finding mates left and right, he was more than hopeful his would be found soon. He wanted what he’d seen at home, the love and devotion the Timber wolves showered on the mates they had claimed. They seemed to walk around in a constant state of dreamy eyes.

He wanted that.

The waitress brought their food. Damn, the fried chicken looked good. It was nice and crispy, just the way he liked it. The mashed potatoes had a hint of garlic in them. Frank must have gotten the new cook he was looking for, and he had obviously hit the jackpot. With nobody at home to cook for the pack, they had to fend for themselves.

It was nice to eat a good meal instead of frozen entrees or burnt noodles. He sucked at cooking.

Tank ate and ate a lot. At six seven and three hundred and twenty pounds, he damn near ate the pantry clean at home every day. Thank god he did patrol duty. Shifting into his wolf form, he ran for miles, working the calories off.

“The food is really good,” Hawk commented as he dug into his plate. Tank was tempted to steal a piece of his steak tips but really liked having ten fingers. Maybe he would order some to go. He raised his hand to call the waitress over, putting in a to-go order of the steak tips, two burgers, another order of fried chicken and a spinach salad with grilled chicken. He would need a snack for later.

“Fuck, man, where do you put all of that?” Kota joked. “I need to put in an order of fried chicken for Blair. My sunshine needs lunch.” Hawk did the same for his mate, Johnny. The fried chicken seemed to be a big hit with everyone. Kota went ahead and ordered
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ten more fried chicken dinners for the other mates and their warriors at home and a chicken strip dinner for the Sentry Cody’s mate, Keata.

The man went gaga for chicken strips. He also remembered a smoothie for Keata as well. Although Cody was part owner of the diner, it was still nice to think of his mate when others were being taken care of.

Frank came out when the waitress had left them to place their to-go orders.

“Like the fried chicken, eh.” He laughed.

“You must have that new cook. Everything was great.” Hawk wiped his mouth as he stood halfway and shook Frank’s hand.

“He just started today. Glad to see he’s working out. Comes from Wyoming. Guess he’s looking for a fresh start. Glad it’s here.” Frank gave the three free desserts. Cody had saved his life and helped renovate the new kitchen after the fire, becoming Frank’s business partner. Cody insisted the hungry wolves pay for their meals, but Frank managed to bargain free desserts, at least for them. Tank was thankful for that and tried not to eat a whole cake himself. After all, he was a big man.

“Well, gentlemen, enjoy the rest of your meals. I look forward to seeing your mates.”

“Maybe we’ll bring them on our next visit.” Kota shook Frank’s hand as the stout man left them to eat. Frank knew of them being were-creatures. Cody had saved him from an attack of rogue wolves that had shifted right in front of Frank, attacking him and almost killing him.

“Damn, I’m still hungry,” Tank complained. He eyed Hawk’s plate once again. Hawk gave a low growl.

“Try it and get your hand stabbed,” Hawk warned as he forked another tip and moaned as he chewed, teasing Tank.

“Dammit.” Tank waved the waitress over and ordered a plate of the steak tips. “Give it to me rare and fast,” he pleaded, his stomach rumbling in agreement.

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* * * *

Who the hell was ordering all this fried chicken? George was barely keeping up. Another order of steak tips came in, and he tossed them on the grill with his secret seasonings and some onions. He dropped another batch of chicken in the fryer as he pulled a handful of the chicken strips out and dropped them as well. George grabbed a stack of to-go containers to put all the food in.

He tossed the spinach salad and sliced the grilled chicken to sprinkle over it, again adding his secret spices to the mix. He chopped the tomatoes, tossing them on top with crumbled blue cheese.

George slung container after container onto the counter as they became ready. He laid the plate of tips up there as well and watched Kitty carry it over to the table with the three large men.
Figures
.

George watched in amazement as one of the men literally swallowed the whole plateful of tips. Holy crap!

Kitty came back and bagged the white Styrofoam containers, leaving them at the register. Well, what a surprise, the big fella paid and grabbed all the bags. If men like him came in here all the time, no wonder Frank had a new kitchen.

George cleaned up his mess as the rush receded. He wiped down his grill and counters, cleaning his equipment and stacking the dishes in the dishwasher.

Man, that was a hell of a first day. He prayed he could keep up with the dinner rush. If it was anything like lunch, then George knew he was going to be plumb tired by the time the diner closed.

“You wanna go out to the bar after work?” Kitty smiled at him from behind the counter. Shit. He didn’t want to deal with this.

Telling her he was gay would stop her in her tracks, maybe, but it would create a whole new set of problems he wasn’t willing to deal with.

“I don’t believe in mixing personal with business. We’re
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coworkers.” That should get her off of his back.

“We can keep it separate. I promise.” Kitty ran her tongue over her bottom lip, trying her best to entice him. George shuddered at the thought, no thanks.

“Sorry, can’t. It’s a rule I live by.” So he was lying. She wouldn’t know. Even if he slept with the opposite sex, Jesse had taught him a valuable lesson. Keep your heart and dick close. He didn’t need the entanglement. He hadn’t even been in town a whole day and already he was fighting for people to leave him the hell alone.

“Fine. Here’s your next order.” Kitty slapped the piece of paper onto the counter as she scowled at him. Rejection tended to make people a bit irritable. He would rather deal with irritability then horniness.

George grabbed the order and began the fries.

* * * *

The dinner rush was just as brutal. His fried chicken seemed to be a hit, and more orders for his homemade chili and steak tips came in as well. George was jumping around the kitchen, tossing chicken into the fryer, sautéing the tips, and stirring his chili. The cornbread came out of the oven a light golden brown. Perfect.

George had just tossed another plate up onto the window when he noticed one of the large men had returned, but now he had two smaller men with him. Was the guy always with someone new?

George shook his head as he went back to his duties.

“Hey, George, I need to see you out here,” Frank yelled from behind the counter.

Just great. George didn’t have time to chat. He had cooking to do.

Pulling the chicken out and laying the tips on a plate, George wiped his hands on his apron as he strolled out of the kitchen to see what Frank wanted.

“I want you to meet a friend of mine.” Frank led him over to the
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big fella.

Fine. If Frank wanted to play politics, what could George really do about it? Say hello and get his ass back to the kitchen, that’s what.

“George Knight, I’d like you to meet Tank Forney.” Frank stepped back so George could shake hands.

Tank stared at George like he was an alien. He knew he was a mess from cooking all day, but he wasn’t
that
bad.

Tank stood and let out a low growl. “Mine.” He grabbed George’s hand and pulled him into his arms.

“Whoa, partner. I’m not doing the two-step with ya.” George pushed at Tank’s chest, escaping his arms. What the hell did the guy think he was doing? He looked around to see who all had noticed another man hugging on him. His eyes darted around, but the other customers were busy eating. Thank goodness. He wasn’t ready to pack up and run.

“But you’re mine.” Tank looked disheartened. George couldn’t figure out what was going on here, but he didn’t like it one bit. He turned back to the big man.

“I’m nobody’s, least of all a man’s. Nice meetin ya, Tank Forney.” George nodded his head then went back to the kitchen. What the hell had gotten into that guy?

* * * *

“Is he really your mate, Tank?” Frank asked as he scratched his jaw.

“Yes.” Tank dropped back down in the booth, his heart breaking in half. His mate didn’t want him. Why would George reject him?

Wasn’t he pleasing to his mate?

“It’ll be okay, Tank. I fought it at first, too. Give him time.” Oliver patted Tank’s hand.

“You did?” Tank felt a little hope spark inside him.

“Yeah, I didn’t want anyone to know I was gay. You know, my
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dad and all.” Oliver lowered his head in shame.

“Thanks, Oliver, and your dad was an asshole, and we all know it.

Hold your head up.” Tank hated the fact that Oliver and his brother Blair were molested by their own damn father. He wanted to rip the man’s sick and twisted heart out.

Oliver smiled and began eating again. “This fried chicken really is good. Your mate’s a real good cook, so now maybe we’ll get some decent meals at home”

“Nope, the steak tips are.” Blair punched his brother in his shoulder.

“All right, you two. You need to eat up. Kota and Micah will start worrying if I don’t get you back soon.” Tank shoved another spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth as he watched the kitchen for any signs of his mate. The man was breathtaking. The cowboy was tall, handsome, with a beautifully proportioned body.

He especially liked George’s height. With Tank being six seven, he didn’t want to break his back bending down all the time. He loved the little mates the other warriors had at home, but he sometimes wondered how the hell they dealt with such short men.

So this was why Maverick insisted he return to the diner. He could have just come out and said the new cook was his mate. The Alpha didn’t have to be all cloak and dagger about it.

Tank could feel the pull, his wolf wanting its mate. He had a feeling he was going to have a rough way going in convincing George that fate had chosen him to be Tank’s.

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Chapter Two

George looked back through the window to see Tank talking to the other two guys. Was he trying to add George to his harem of men?

How many different men did he bring in here? George clenched his fists, angered that his body was betraying him. He had to admit at least to himself that Tank intrigued him.
Stupid
libido.

George slammed pots and pans around, angry that he was actually interested. What ticked him off the most was that with Tank’s size, he had a feeling he would no longer be a top, and there was no way in hell he was bottoming for any man.

Never.

What did it matter? He wasn’t going anywhere near Tank. He wasn’t going to be run out of town or fight his way out of a mob of homophobes. He’d had enough of that to last this life and the next.

George grabbed the next order Kitty tossed up onto the window, trying his best to forget Tank Forney, which was pretty dang hard considering the feeling of wanting to rush out there and fall into the man’s arms. George cursed as he slammed more things around.

“Everything okay in here?” Frank asked as he came out of his office.

“Yeah, just trying to get everything cooked,” George replied.

“Let me know if it gets too much. I can always dive in and help.”

“Nah, I can handle it.” If he didn’t stop throwing a fit, he would let on to everyone how he was feeling. That was something he’d rather keep to himself.

“Okay.” Frank pushed past the double doors and walked off into the diner.

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George slid back over to the window to get another peek. Tank was laughing with the two men at his table. George felt a twitch in his stomach at the gorgeous smile the guy had. It seemed to light up the entire room. He ducked down when Tank looked over his way.

George scooted across the floor until he was no longer under the window then stood. Why was he acting like such a fool? Why did he care if the two men at his table were being graced by that heavenly smile?

He planted his hands on his hips as he exhaled. This was a clean break, not a romantic getaway. There could be no Tank in his life.

George’s stupid brain wandered, daydreaming of a life where he didn’t have to hide who he was. Did such a place even exist?

“Order up.”

Startled, he came back to reality where he was standing in the middle of the kitchen he worked in and hiding who he was from the world. Rounding the island in the middle of the kitchen, he kicked his boot into the cabinet. It wasn’t supposed to be hard here. His first day, and already he felt trapped. George shook his head. If Tank came at him again, he would just politely decline. There was no way he was risking anything again.

He remembered the look of pure pride his dad had when George’s brother had announced he was going to be a daddy. His dad clapped Clyde’s back and broke out the good bourbon. There was no way his dad would celebrate his other son announcing he was gay.