Little Wolf (41 page)

Nathaniel’s expression could have melted glaciers. “I had an arrest last year that ended up with the state officials. They need me to drive to meet them in Carson about some detail.” To which Tim had replied that, duh, then Nathaniel had to go, to which Nathaniel had responded by kissing him, toast crumbs and all.

Tim pitched his voice low. “Are you in Carson?” Without turning, he flipped off Carl for his snickering. Albert settled next to him with his elbows on the counter and his chin in his hands. Tim turned toward the shelves.

“Yes. I’m going to stop for breakfast since mine was interrupted.” Nathaniel was sly and wonderful. Tim let out a breath and felt like Albert when Graham was mentioned. Thankfully Nathaniel couldn’t hear Tim’s heartbeat any more than Tim could hear his. “The meeting shouldn’t take long, but I’m stopping on the way back to check the county borders.” Nathaniel meant he was checking his territory despite the deputies who probably patrolled it all the time. Tim nodded in understanding and swept his eyes up to the clock in the café. Nathaniel had been gone for over an hour.

“Missed me already?” Tim panted, not nearly as breezy and light as he’d intended to sound. He pressed the phone tight against his ear, trying to hear more than the truck engine being turned off or the faint creak of the parking brake. It was how humans must feel every day. He couldn’t bear waiting for an answer to his stupid joke and rushed on. “How was the drive?”

Nathaniel ignored that question as it deserved to be ignored. “Busy?”

“Not yet.” It was too early for the lunch crowd, and the customers currently in the café weren’t ordering food, because Wolf’s Paw was full of nosy asses.

“How are you?” Nathaniel wasn’t whispering, but his voice had a soft, concerned quality Tim was starting to have a Pavlovian blush response to.

“Fine.” If the world could hear, then the world could hear. Tim refused to be less brave than Nathaniel, even if he had to force himself to go on. “Your mark is still there.”

Nathaniel’s breathing rhythm changed. Oh, that was just right to Tim’s way of thinking. He could control Nathaniel’s breathing, him, scrawny Timothy Littlewolf. This time it was much easier to keep talking, and he didn’t lower his voice. “They all saw it.”

A low animal sound carried through the phone, making Tim shiver. “Little Wolf….” The hunger in Nathaniel’s voice had nothing to do with breakfast. Tim wondered if he should remind him about their audience one last time or if Nathaniel knew and that was part of what was turning him on.

“Everyone is listening. And by everyone I mean mostly Carl but also, well, everyone.” Tim glanced up and around, meeting not a single gaze aside from Albert’s and Robin’s Egg’s. Everyone else was carefully not looking at him.

“Hmm.” Instead of being upset at this breach of privacy, Nathaniel seemed extremely unsurprised, also thoughtful. Tim pictured him sitting in the truck, contemplating his next move, and nearly moaned because that was exactly what Nathaniel was doing. “And did you have something you wanted to say to them?”

“Hmm,” Tim said in return, chewing on his lower lip. Telling them to butt out was obviously a waste of time for many reasons, the biggest being that royal affairs were always public. They affected the state, so it made sense. As for the rest, Tim had told the town everything it needed to know when he’d asked for another mark before strolling into work. Tim wasn’t just Nathaniel’s bitch, Tim was his official bitch. The one Nathaniel fucked and the only one who got Nathaniel this hot even over the phone. Tim was king bitch. So Nathaniel was asking for something else, a statement. Tim made his tone innocent. “You mean like how I wish I was riding your dick right now?”

Carl’s cackle was the loudest, most obnoxious, perfect sound ever. Nathaniel’s laugh made Tim’s toes curl. “That’s my Little Wolf.”

Tim slumped down onto his elbow to sigh at the phone. It took effort to keep the mooning from his voice. “Is that why you called? Public phone sex?”

The silence could have meant Nathaniel was thinking about the suggestion, but he didn’t push it any further. “No. There’s something I meant to tell you this morning before we were distracted.”

“
We
were distracted.” Tim snorted. “We know who did the distracting. I was eating toast.” Maybe it was Tim’s tone, but Albert was fascinated. Tim had to admit, he’d never heard himself use this tone before either, warm and encouraging. The scent wafting from him was like heated oil of roses and dark chocolate. Valentine’s Day was starting to make more sense to Tim. He scratched his nose. Albert’s scent, on the other hand, was a combination of curiosity and wistful envy. It was sort of like mushrooms. Tim preferred the roses. “But go on.”

Nathaniel did just that. “I won’t be in for lunch today, and I didn’t want you to worry.” The fact that Tim actually would have worried made it worse. Nathaniel was probably hiding a laugh. “I didn’t want you mad at me again.”

The best thing about being on the phone was that Nathaniel couldn’t see his face. “Yeah, because I’m so ferocious.” Tim wrinkled his nose at Nathaniel’s hum of agreement. “So I’ll see you later?” He was going to have to eat a lot more, maybe take a nap. Tim was a young were, and even he was surprised at his body’s reaction to Nathaniel. Nathaniel hummed again, a definite yes, and Tim lifted his head. The general scents coming from the café were good, with some more envy and a little arousal that were understandable. He guessed the townspeople liked it when their alpha was getting laid. He didn’t know how they’d feel about anything else, so he swallowed the questions he could have asked and smoothed out his voice. “Don’t be late, then,” he ordered, and he hung up before he could blurt out anything else that revealed how much he wanted to see Nathaniel again.

“Egg!” Carl hollered the moment Tim whipped around to stare down anyone who would dare to so much as giggle. Robin’s Egg appeared like a summoned demon. Carl nodded toward Tim. “Get that boy some more cherries, he’s earned them!”

Tim ducked his head to share his embarrassment with the items in the display case. “You guys are the worst,” he mumbled, but ate every sweet cherry Robin’s Egg brought him, to the delight of his audience.

N
ATHANIEL
WASN
’
T
kidding when he’d said there was some pressure that came with being with him. Even after the place filled up with the lunch crowd of tourists, plenty of locals came in to gossip and glance over into the gift shop. The mayor was no exception. She’d come in with a few of the council members and left as the festival committee had walked in, exchanging a wink with her husband as she’d done so.

Tim had mentally girded his loins. Just because he was in a good mood and everyone knew why, that didn’t mean he was going to be more receptive to the idea of pimping out Nathaniel. They must have some weird idea that whenever he smelled the most like Nathaniel he would be more approachable or something. They were so wrong.

He shushed them before Jerry could say hello, and turned toward the café TV as
Diedre’s Secret
came on. Blake was rumored to be appearing in this episode after his mysterious absence following his rejection by his mate.

Albert, bless him, came over to stand with Tim when the committee members piled in. Tim couldn’t tell if he was being supportive or taking notes for more of his quiet plotting.

Blake wasn’t onscreen yet, so Tim angled his head to consider Jerry. The mayor had the baby today. Jerry had his arms full of a tablet and several notepads. Tim waved him forward. Jerry looked startled, but only for a second. He wasn’t taking Tim by surprise, but he was continuing despite the lost advantage.

Tim was going to enjoy this. A few more rounds of this and he and Jerry were either going to reach an understanding or get really, really good at negotiating with each other. Tim briefly wondered what Nathaniel’s past lovers had done in his place.

“I don’t know why you don’t ask Nathaniel these things,” he remarked, but peered down at Jerry’s notebooks curiously while someone else on the committee started to list all the times Nathaniel had been “too busy” to meet with them.

Jerry cut the other committee member off. “We need more public appearances,” he began bluntly.

Tim nodded. “Of course you do. He isn’t only a draw for his physical appearance. He’s one of the town’s leading figures.” The startled faces of the committee told him they had expected more of a fight. Tim rolled his wrist. “Obviously the sheriff has to do more than simply be there. You have those factors to consider, plus he is an elected official.” Tim doubted Nathaniel had ever put up a poster or billboard in his career. Nonetheless, earning goodwill wouldn’t hurt him any.

“What?” Jerry must have gotten out of practice at this when dealing with whoever Nathaniel had been with before. Tim was starting to doubt Nathaniel’s taste.

Tim clucked his tongue. “But no fake dating. No kissing. No letting himself be groped. No wet T-shirts or dunking booths or ways to get his shirt off.” Although Tim would have paid money to see Nathaniel soaking wet and stripping his clothes off, and he had already seen Nathaniel naked and wet for free that morning. It was a guaranteed gold mine, he would admit that much, but it was never going to happen.

“Duh.” Jerry was vaguely annoyed. “We got that message the first time. But….” He flipped open a notebook. “We still need judges for some of the contests, and it would really be great if the sheriff attended one of the concerts and did some dancing at the cotillion.”

Tim had no idea if Nathaniel could dance. He’d probably waltz. He’d probably be exceptional at waltzing. “There’s a
cotillion
?” Tim slashed the air. “Wait, explain that later.” It was likely some Gold Rush era thing. Tim
really
had to finish that book on the history of the town. “You want him to judge things? What kinds of things?” Making judgments was already part of Nathaniel’s job, so it wasn’t much of a stretch to picture him doing it in a more formal environment. “And pose for pictures too?” Tim went on, after he was told about feats of strength and other were competitions that conveniently displayed hot were bodies in sweaty, interesting ways to the watching crowds.

“Don’t be so touchy about the pictures. You can be with him if you want.” Jerry was in no mood to answer Tim’s questions. Tim blinked at him a few times as he imagined himself in the brochures. He almost laughed.

“What about the date auction?” Tim was intrigued to see werewolf sports were a thing, but he would have had no interest in being in any pictures even if he hadn’t been on the run.

For some reason, Jerry took this as a question about the suckers they
did
have lined up to auction off, and pulled up a file on his tablet to rattle off names at Tim. He ended by nodding at Albert. “Of course, a Greenleaf, especially one so nice on the eyes, is a bonus.” His pursed lips said it did not quite make up for the money they might have made by sticking Nathaniel in a tux.

“You volunteered?” Tim turned to Albert and surprised himself with a frown of displeasure. He shook it off as residual instinctual possessiveness. Albert was not actually his and never had been. If Albert belonged to anyone it was himself, and possibly Graham in some way neither of them understood. “How are you going to—” Tim forgot about Graham for the moment to glance at the TV. Still full of humans. He turned back and resolved to ask Albert in private.

“Everyone has to do their part,” Albert told him proudly, and in a way, Tim understood what he meant. The entire town contributed to and depended on the festivals. But the degree that they contributed was the part Tim didn’t get. No were had to sleep with any tourists, and some of them were more than happy for all the sex, but there was something about the whole arrangement Tim failed to grasp.

“Oh wait, be quiet!” Tim shushed him as gently as he could as the scene on the TV moved to a campsite, and there, at the edge of the firelight, was Blake. Cosmo turned up the sound, but Blake wasn’t speaking as he watched a strange human woman talk to herself around her lonely campfire. “Holy crap,” Tim exhaled in shock, “what happened to him?” The makeup job wasn’t great, but it was clear that Blake was a thinner, paler version of himself. He looked as if he hadn’t been eating or sleeping. He looked
sick
. His clothing was torn, mostly to show off his chest, and dirt had been smudged artfully over his cheekbones.

He wasn’t speaking to the woman. He seemed mesmerized by the fire, or maybe it was the sound of her voice or her appearance. The woman had the same color hair as Carolyn.

“Did I miss an episode on a day off or something?” Tim asked in a whisper. “Did Carolyn die or did they create some disease to give him?” Blake was weakened. The makeup was trying to cover up the fierce glow of health he should have had.

“Carolyn Rejected him,” someone on the committee commented. “Where have you been?”

“He looks
awful
.” Albert seemed as surprised as Tim.

“Is that what happens?” Tim couldn’t seem to raise his voice. “Is that real? Is he going to die?”

“Don’t be dramatic.” The attitude in the voice made Tim turn to shoot the speaker a glare. A usually silent member of the committee stared back at him. “He’ll be fine. Well, not fine, but he’ll live. However, he won’t be whole again, not for a long time.”

“But he will eventually?” Tim turned to the screen, jumping despite himself when Blake tried to take a step toward the fire and collapsed. The woman ran over to help him. She poured water over his mouth to get him to drink. The close-up of his wet lips was almost pornographic, but the water barely got a reaction from Blake. “People don’t actually die from heartbreak.” Tim waited. “Right?”

“It’s not exactly heartbreak.” The same committee member was probably wondering why Tim didn’t know these things. “It’s more like if your beloved spouse of fifty years died or left you. It leaves a hole, or so they say.”

“But Blake hasn’t known Carolyn for fifty years,” Tim protested without taking his eyes from the screen. Blake gave the woman a weak, halfhearted snarl, but she ripped her shirt, revealing her midriff as she wiped at the dirt on his face. “Who the hell is this woman?” Tim barked. “Are they doing what I think they are doing?” Tim was offended on behalf of mated weres, and he knew nothing about matings. As if Blake would be over Carolyn already. They’d better not try to match him up with this replacement. That wouldn’t fill any “holes.” Anyway, there was still Nurse Valerie to consider.