A Rebel Without Claws (Southern Charm #1)

9. ~Celine~

Chapter 9

~Celine~

The knock at the door sounded at exactly six o’clock. I’d been sitting in the living room, anxiously waiting for him. And now it was officially real. I was going on a date with a werewolf. And hiding it from my family.

A twinge of guilt twisted in my chest, but I pushed it away as I walked through the foyer to the front door.

My nerves were a wreck until I opened the door and saw him standing there. If his jaw dropped like Samara said it would, I didn’t notice because I was stunned still myself, drinking him all in.

He wore black slacks and a navy-blue button-down, rolled up at the sleeves. His usually mussed blond hair was styled more neatly, revealing the sharp, lovely features of his face clearly. His ocean-blue eyes shone darker as he devoured me from head to high-heeled feet .

At that boutique shop Samara had taken me to, I’d tried on at least ten dresses before finally finding this one. I never wore red, always thinking it clashed with the copper color of my hair, but this shade was deeper and a touch toward orange in a way that complimented my freckly, fair skin and made my eyes appear even greener.

With the way Ronan stared, sending a shiver of goose bumps along my arms, I knew I’d picked the right dress.

“Hi,” I finally managed to say. “You look very nice.” Quite the understatement.

He shook his head and stepped right up to me, taking my hand in his as he leaned down and brushed a light kiss on my cheek. My heart catapulted faster.

“You look stunning,” he said in a low, sultry voice, his face close to mine.

“Thank you,” I murmured, breathless.

It was a little brazen to kiss me on the cheek at the opening of a first date, but I didn’t mind one single bit. I stood there, staring, just as he was. We both seemed a little shaken, my stomach flip-flopping at his close proximity and the way he was still gently holding my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.

“Did you like my gift?” he finally asked.

“Yes. I didn’t expect you to replace the broken one. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Did it make you smile?”

There was a beat of silence while we stood there staring, locked in place. “Yes,” I finally answered. “It did.”

“Then you’re wrong,” he said gently. “I did have to do it. ”

There was something about Ronan that was wildly unpredictable. Both in words and actions. Perhaps that’s why my pulse was pounding so hard. There was also something deeply genuine about him. Other guys always tried to impress me in some way, but Ronan wasn’t trying to impress. He was simply being himself—highly impressive.

“I know my old Bronco isn’t exactly fancy”—he held on to my hand as he finally took a step backward and tugged me toward the walkway and the curb where his Bronco was parked—“but she’s tough and reliable.”

“Like her owner?” I teased as we passed through the wrought iron gate.

He stopped and opened the passenger door for me, his voice deep near my ear as I passed him. “You can count on it.”

I settled in the seat and put on my seatbelt, taking the ten seconds it took him to round the car to the driver’s seat to catch my breath. It definitely wasn’t enough time because then he was right there, filling the small space with his masculine presence and delicious scent—clean and sharp. Perfect for him.

“Where are we going?” I asked, noting the nervous edge in my voice and hoping he didn’t.

“You’ll see,” he assured me, reaching across the console and taking my hand in his, threading our fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt like it.

I looked over at him, surprised. He gave me a soft smile. “Is this okay?” he asked, giving my hand a squeeze.

“Mm-hmm,” was all I managed to say.

The radio played a croony Lana Del Rey song, and I relaxed into the seat and into the company of Ronan Reed. It was so natural, while at the same time my skin pebbled with goose bumps and my body felt warm and soft. Something about being next to him in the quiet of his car and the radio playing a smooth and lovely melody, my hand held firmly but gently in his, had my soul at ease.

He drove down Magazine Street, heading toward the French Quarter. I surely hoped we weren’t going to be navigating the uneven streets of the Quarter. It would be precarious for me in these heels. But thankfully, he turned left on Julia Street in the warehouse district before we ever reached the touristy part of the city.

I couldn’t help but look over at him while he concentrated on taking the next turn down a narrower street and marvel at the fact that he had no idea what a revelation this was. With Ronan—a large, strong, alpha male—I felt safe , not afraid of his dominance or strength over me. And that alone was something worth smiling about.

The only men I’d dated after high school and that nightmare of a warlock had been soft-spoken, passive, and one-hundred-percent beta guys. I loved beta guys—sweet, kind, and non-threatening in any way. But they also weren’t my type. Therein lay the problem.

But here I was on a date with a definitively dominant male, feeling like I was in heaven.

Ronan parked along the side street. “We’re here.” Then he hopped out.

I looked around and saw nothing but the back entrances to a hotel and a dumpster. As I went to open the door, Ronan was already there and swinging it open .

“I’ve got it.”

I smiled to myself at his overly gentlemanly manners. Southern born and bred, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I smoothed my dress. “I guess your mama taught you right.”

His gaze met mine, a fleeting frown pinching his brow before he smoothed it away. “She did.” He closed the door and took my hand, guiding me back toward Julia Street.

“So where are we going?” I asked for the second time.

“Right there.” He pointed to a sign hanging above a nondescript door that read Jolie . “Have you ever been here before?”

“No.”

He opened the door, plunging us into a dimly lit interior and a narrow hallway that led up a small ramp into the restaurant and to the hostess station. I gasped.

Ronan spoke to the hostess while I marveled at the interior. “Reservations for two under Reed.”

“Yes, sir,” said the hostess in a sleek sheath dress. “Your table is right this way.”

To our right, there was a private area for large parties curtained off by dark velvet drapes. The chairs at the center of the restaurant were all plush club chairs covered in rich textiles. The unique chandeliers and wood beams together with the decor gave it a bohemian, art deco vibe.

“Here you are, Mr. Reed.” The hostess smiled at us both as I sat and scooted around the circular green velvet booth to the back. “Your server, Valerie, will be right with you.”

She set drink and dinner menus on the table as Ronan sat next to me, his left knee bumping my right .

“Sorry,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

I almost told him he could leave it right there. He could scoot even closer and let his thigh rest right up against mine if he liked. Hell, I wouldn’t have minded climbing into his lap, but I figured that might be a tad forward and inappropriate. What could I say? Ronan Reed had me thinking vastly inappropriate things.

Goodness, what was wrong with me?

“What do you think?” he asked.

“This is one of the coolest places I’ve ever been to. I can’t believe it’s just a few miles from where I live, and I’ve never heard of it.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like it.”

“Why did you think that?”

He gestured to the surroundings. “It’s pretty artsy, don’t you think?”

“Very. Didn’t you just move here? How’d you find it? Zack or Bowie?”

He laughed, the deep, rich sound matching our intimate and lovely surroundings. “I’m sure those two have never been here. No, I asked a work buddy named Ty, who’s a little older, knows the NOLA scene better.”

“Oh, yeah, I know Ty. He’s a great guy. He and my uncle Nico go way back, apparently, just like with your uncle Shane.”

“He’s helped me settle in at the body shop a lot.”

Our server stepped up, and we ordered some of their specialty cocktails. I opted for the citrusy vodka drink called Glitter, and Ronan ordered a smoky bourbon drink .

“This is actually more of a cocktail lounge,” he said as the waitress went to the bar to get our drinks, “but Ty said the food is excellent.”

He tapped his fingers on the table, scoping out the place. Of course, my gaze was now riveted to those hands, just like when he’d painted the teacup.

It should be illegal for a man to have hands as sexy as Ronan’s. The way the veins rose over the back, his long fingers—not too thick, not too thin—tapping lightly on the table. There was a definite callus on the edge of one thumb, and all I wanted was to feel it scrape across my skin as he ran his palm up my thigh.

“Are you okay?” he asked, jolting my attention back to him and away from his sinfully provocative hands.

He frowned with concern. He should be concerned. My dirty mind had gone from hand-holding to thigh-holding in a matter of seconds.

“Yes, fine. I’m fine.”

The server set the drinks down and offered to give us a few minutes since neither of us had even looked at the menu. I distracted myself by sipping the glittery cocktail.

“How is it?” he asked.

“It’s as delicious as it is pretty.”

He froze with his drink halfway to his mouth, his blue gaze dark and intense. “I’ll bet it is,” he said, then licked his lips before he took a swallow.

A flush of heat swept up my neck and cheeks so I took another sip to try to cool my thoughts.

He cleared his throat. “So how did you get into art therapy? Did you always want to counsel kids? ”

“I’ve always loved kids. I used to love babysitting Aunt Clara’s brood or Aunt Violet’s twin girls when they were little. I thought I might go into teaching, but I changed my mind after high school.”

“What changed your mind?”

His voice was low and steady, his gaze fixed and attentive. Rather than make me nervous, I found it intoxicating. And while I wanted to get to know him and for him to get to know me, I wasn’t quite ready to spook him with the big, scary skeleton in my closet. But I also wanted to be honest, so I told him enough.

“I used to suffer from anxiety as a teenager. It got to the point that my parents sent me to a therapist. Anyway, I found the experience so helpful that I knew I wanted to help others in that way.”

He smiled. “I like that.”

My stomach flip-flopped at the small compliment. “How so?”

“That you discovered your career path in that way. Someone helped you so it inspired you to help others.”

I lowered my gaze and opened the menu finally. He did the same.

“And what about you?” I asked while skimming the entreés. “Did you always want to do auto bodywork?”

He laughed again, once more causing swirls of excitement to spin in my belly.

“Why are you laughing?” I asked, unable to keep from smiling with him.

“I, in no way, want a career in the body shop.”

“Oh. I just figured you’d come to work for your uncle because that’s what you’re interested in.”

“Not at all. For me, it’s just a job, a way to keep my uncle happy while I pursue my real goal. ”

“And what’s that?”

“To be the champion of the New Orleans Wolf Fighting Championship. Then to go on and win at state, and then hopefully move on to the national ring. Maybe go international.”

He’d already told me he was into fighting, but I hadn’t realized he was pursuing it as his career. Before I could respond, he went on excitedly.

“What’s so fascinating is that the WFC is illegal in many states. Texas is one of them.” He huffed out a laugh. “I can’t believe I didn’t leave Texas sooner. But I was doing well in the underground ring. Rose to the top quickly. Then some of the guys started bringing the fights outside the ring. That caused me some trouble.”

I nodded. “Is that why your face was bruised last week?”

“Yeah. But I’m done with barroom brawls and underground cage fighting. I want to be a legit champion.”

The excitement was clear on his face, and I couldn’t help but smile with him, even if I didn’t understand the lure of fighting or violence.

“It takes a lot of training and skill to be good in the ring. Even more to be the best,” he said, seeming to want to convince me of something.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re right. I’ve just never known someone who fought for a living.”

“It bothers you?” His gaze was softer now, more vulnerable.

“I suppose I just don’t quite understand it.” I offered a sincere smile. “But I’m eager to learn more about it.”

I was being honest. If this was something he was passionate about, then I definitely wanted to learn more.

“So how does it work? When is your first fight? ”

“Actually, the other night at Howler’s, you remember those guys I went to talk to?”

“Yes.”

“One of the guys on their team is the current champion, Baron Hammond. I’d been trying to reach him on social media, but the guys recognized him at the bar. So I went over to talk about registering. The website for the local chapter is down right now.”

“Your chat didn’t seem to go well from where I was sitting.”

“Yeah. They were being assholes. Got under my skin a little.”

He frowned deeper. “Which doesn’t usually happen to me.”

“No?”

His smile returned, and my body instantly relaxed. “I’m known for being cool under pressure. I was just a little off the other night.”

He took another gulp of his drink right as the server returned.

We both ordered the steak with herb compound butter and Parmesan fries. When the server asked how I wanted it cooked, I answered, “Medium rare, but closer to rare, please. I like it a bit bloody.”

Ronan grinned as she walked away, pressing his palm to his chest. “A woman after my own heart.”

I laughed. “Of course you’d be impressed by a girl who eats her steak bloody.”

“Can’t help it. The wolf likes a carnivorous lady.” He kept grinning while my cheeks grew hotter.

“You promised me something at Howler’s,” I said, trying to calm my heart rate and stop blushing.

“Did I?”

“You said you’d tell me why you wouldn’t be leaving town on the full moon. ”

“You’re a smart woman, Celine. I’m sure you’ve figured it out.”

I blinked, wondering if I’d hurt his feelings, but he didn’t seem put off by the conversation at all. In fact, he was smiling contentedly as he waited for me to answer.

“I can only guess that’s because you won’t be shifting.”

“Correct.”

“And do you . . . ever shift?”

“I did. A few times actually,” he answered casually. “But I stopped shifting when I was twelve.”

“Do you know why?”

“Yes, definitely,” he said, still with that casual tone. “My mother died, and my wolf simply”—he flitted his fingers in the air—“disappeared.”

I stared for a moment, mouth hanging agape at his casual confession that his mother had died and his wolf had abandoned him. I’d heard about the time my own father couldn’t shift. It was actually how my parents met, when a hex was put on him and he could no longer change once a month, so his wolf had pushed into his psyche. My father basically now had two personalities living inside his head at all times.

What I do know about that time was that not shifting was like torture for him. I’d never known another wolf who couldn’t shift. It was a release that every werewolf needed to do in order to remain sane, basically.

But here was Ronan. Perfectly well and seemingly content. “Is that why you’re seeing Dr. Theriot?”

He brushed the condensation on his glass with his index finger, drawing me back to his perfect hands for a moment .

“I’m seeing Dr. Theriot to make my uncle happy. He’s worried that I haven’t shifted since Mom died.”

“And you’re not worried?”

“No.” He smiled, staring intently again. “I’m perfectly fine just the way I am.”

“Does your wolf speak to you?”

His dark brows shot up. “Does he speak to me?” He chuckled. “No. He’s just gone. Or . . . he was anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard my wolf growl recently.” He leaned back against the velvet bench and draped an arm along the back behind my shoulders. “Haven’t even sensed him in about fifteen years.”

My pulse quickened. “I was pretty sure that was your wolf growling at me the day we met in the garage.”

His eyes were more midnight than blue in the darkened lounge, their keen watchfulness studying my every move.

“You’re right, Celine.” He leaned closer, a lock of blond hair falling partly across one eye. “That was him.”

He was confessing quite easily that he hadn’t heard his wolf in fifteen years, yet he had the second we met. I could hardly keep my breath under control as he leaned close, surrounding me with his sultry scent and his dominating presence and his easy confession that it was me who had awakened the wolf who’d been hiding deep inside him.

I wasn’t brave enough to address that for the moment. I switched to something deeply personal, but something I wanted to know.

“How did your mother die? If you don’t mind me asking?”

With the hand draped at my back, he swept my hair over one shoulder. “She died in a car accident. ”

The collar of my dress was a wide oval, revealing much of my bare shoulder. He played with a lock of my wavy hair, then let his knuckles softly caress the bare skin near my collarbone.

“Does this bother you?” he asked, eyes on my throat.

“Not at all.” I swallowed hard, trying to focus. “I’m sorry about your mother, Ronan.”

“You don’t need to be. It was a tragedy, yes, and I still miss her. She was a great mother.” His mouth ticked up on one side, but his gaze was on my shoulder where he gently swept the backs of his knuckles. “I loved her dearly, but I’ve accepted her loss.”

“And the loss of your wolf too?”

He raised his gaze to mine. “I don’t need him,” he said with confidence, not defiance. “I’ve been doing just fine without him for a long time.”

“But you’re still going to see Dr. Theriot.”

“To appease my uncle, yes.” Then his smile turned wicked. “And maybe to pop in and see a certain pretty therapist across the hall when I leave.”

I couldn’t help but return his smile. Then his smile faded, as did mine, our gazes locked. We stared for an unnaturally long time, both of us seemingly content in this silent, intimate connection.

“Here we are.” Our server Valerie finally broke the intensity of the moment as she delivered our meals. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Just some water, please,” I said, placing my napkin in my lap.

“Same for me,” said Ronan.

We ate quietly for a few moments. Valerie came and went with our waters .

“Is it rare enough?” he teased lightly, checking out my steak. “Yes. It’s delicious.” Before he could tease me again about how I liked my meat—and all the insinuations that can go with that— I asked, “So tell me about how the training is going with Zack and Bowie.”

He launched into a rather detailed explanation of their sparring sessions and how quickly the guys were learning and improving. There was pride shining in his expression as he talked about it. And while I wasn’t crazy about fighting, it was pleasant listening to his voice, his Texan drawl luring me in.

Having finished his steak, he leaned back and watched me, his mouth tugging up into a semi-smile.

“What?” I asked.

“I want to ask you something, but I don’t want to offend you.”

“Well, now you have to ask me.” I set my silverware down and dabbed my mouth with the napkin, giving me his full attention.

“What’s it like having a witch for a mom and a werewolf as a father?”

“Why would that be offensive?” I laughed.

“It’s strange is all. Where I come from, witches don’t mingle with wolves. They sure as hell don’t marry them.”

Proud of the fact that my parents—and my entire family really—were openminded, I said, “To answer your question, it’s awesome. I don’t find it strange at all. My parents are perfect for each other. The fact that my dad is a werewolf is normal to me, not odd.”

“I like that,” he admitted, that tantalizing smile and those hypnotic eyes sending a shiver over my skin .

“Why?” I asked breathlessly.

“That you see your parents, a wolf and a witch, as the perfect match.”

I knew he was thinking about us now, and I couldn’t do anything but stare dumbly. He broke the tense silence first.

“So when do I meet your family?”

“Not yet,” I snapped quickly. I wasn’t quite ready to face the firing squad.

Ronan’s expression blanked, then he nodded and waved at our server and asked for the bill. I couldn’t help but note that his aura had dimmed to a deep, dark purple. It wasn’t anger or anxiety I was sensing. More like frustration.

After Ronan paid the bill, he politely escorted me to the car, taking my hand and walking closest to the street.

Again, there was silence on the short drive back to my house and up the walkway to the porch where he gently pulled me to a stop.

“I hope you had a good time tonight.” His expression was austere and serious, no hint of the playful smile he so often wore. “Because I certainly did.”

“Yes, thank you. I had a wonderful time.” How could he doubt it?

“Does it bother you that your family will find out you’re dating me?” he asked with directness.

“Yes,” I answered honestly. But then the sudden hurt look on his face made me jump forward and grab his upper arms. “But not because I’m dating you , specifically. It’s just a hassle.” Especially when my father found out.

His brow pinched into a frown. “I don’t understand why your family is so insanely protective of your dating life. You’re a grown, intelligent woman. You seem quite capable of making your own decisions.”

“Yes, you’re right.” I bit my bottom lip, still not wanting to admit my past that had turned our whole family upside down so long ago and had made them overly cautious whenever I brought a new guy home.

I realized I was still clutching his upper biceps while he had his hands in his pants pockets, as if he was trying to distance us. I didn’t want him to pull away.

“All I need to know,” he said, licking his lips, “is if you like me. That’s all that matters to me. I don’t give a shit what your family or friends or anyone else thinks. Just you.”

Squeezing his arms, I stepped closer, now well within his personal space. “I like you, Ronan,” I admitted softly. “Very, very, very much.” My gaze dropped to his mouth, then back to his hauntingly beautiful eyes. “Do you like me?” I teased with a small smile, though my voice shook a little.

He dropped his forehead and pressed it to mine, his hands still stuffed in his pockets as he heaved a weighted sigh. “Celine, Celine,” he repeated in a low whisper, “I can’t tell you what I feel for you. Not just yet.”

“No?” I slid my hands up his strong shoulders. “Then why don’t you show me?”

On a deep rumble, he finally raised his hands and cupped my face, tipping my chin higher. He swept the pad of his thumb across my mouth once, twice, then on the third pass I opened my lips wider and touched my tongue to his thumb.

A purring growl vibrated in his chest as he angled his head and brushed his mouth softly and slowly against my lips. My entire body lit up like a raging bonfire. I whimpered as he nipped and coaxed and teased my mouth wider, finally licking inside with his hot tongue and melding his mouth to mine.

The sweep of gooseflesh over my skin and the shiver down my spine made my knees go weak. His kiss was like the first time I’d felt magic, a heady sensation full of promise.

One of his hands slid to my nape and the other around my waist, holding me still as he pulled my entire body to his. I moaned into his mouth, completely obliterated by the arousing sensation of his kiss. It was maddening and delicious, and I never wanted it to stop. Fisting his hair in my fingers, I rubbed against him, certainly noting his large erection against my belly, while I kissed him back with all the passion I felt for him.

Did I like him? Goddess above. I was completely, insanely obsessed and besotted.

His tongue in my mouth, his hands on my nape and my waist, had me wanting to climb him like a tree. Or better yet, take him inside.

He nipped my bottom lip with his teeth, then sucked on it, and I felt the tug pool heat between my legs.

“Ronan,” I murmured, leaning forward to kiss him again.

He softened it this time, easing his hand to cup my jaw as he swept his lips lightly up that line to my ear. “Can you feel how much I like you?”

I laughed heartily. “Yes.” Then I pulled back and traced my finger over his mouth. “Can you feel how much I like you?”

“Let’s just say I’m a lot happier than when we left Jolie.”

We were silent for a moment as I let his hurt sink into me. My magic recognized it quickly, wanting to soothe and take it away, but I knew he had every right to be hurt. I wasn’t going to charm him with magic to forget that I was the one in the wrong, who’d made him feel unwanted in any way. It was my place to make it right, but not with magic.

“I’m sorry, Ronan. I didn’t mean to make you think that I was ashamed of you. I’m not. Not at all.”

He nodded, both of his hands on my waist now where he gave me a squeeze and eased me away from him. “I get it. Your family is a handful.”

I heaved a sigh. “You have no idea.”

“I’ll find out at some point, right?”

“Yes, of course. Let’s just hold off that hurricane as long as we can.”

“Whatever you want.” He leaned his head down and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to my lips. “So when do I get a second date?”

“When do you want one?”

“Tomorrow.”

I laughed. How about tonight almost escaped my mouth, and I wondered what had gotten into me. I was the ever-cautious, good girl Celine Cruz. But when it came to Ronan, I didn’t want to be cautious or to be good. I didn’t want slow and steady. And it wasn’t simply lust that had my entire soul lit on fire. Still, I tried to maintain some self-control and thought about what I had on my plate tomorrow.

“Damn, I can’t tomorrow. I have a new client to meet.”

“On a Sunday?”

Shrugging, I added, “I don’t have any free spots right now, and the mother was referred by a family friend. ”

“I have to catch up at the garage anyway. I’ve been falling behind and pulling Zack and Bowie off their jobs. Uncle Shane won’t like it if we don’t have that Camaro ready this week.”

“Why don’t you text me, and we can set a date?”

“That’s a good plan.” He leaned down for another kiss, taking his time with a soft, lingering goodbye. “I’ll text you later.” He grinned before he backed away.

My heart sped at the promise of more later. I was completely gone for this guy. He stopped halfway down the walkway and frowned at the house.

“You’re here alone?”

“Don’t worry. My aunt and uncle live next door.”

“Is that the werewolf uncle or one of the vampire or grim reaper uncles?”

He had been looking into me, but it didn’t bother me at all. “My three-hundred-year-old vampire uncle. He’d be in the house in two seconds if I called.”

“What if you can’t reach your phone?”

“No, I mean, if I called aloud. As in screamed for help. He’s got really good hearing.” I peeked to the right, seeing the kitchen light on at Aunt Isadora’s. “Actually, he likely just noticed us making out on the porch.” One more who might report me to the rest of the family.

Ronan kept his serious face on. “All right, then. Get inside and lock the doors.”

“Yes, sir.”

His only response was that deep rumbling growl I recognized as his wolf .

Smiling, I turned back to the door, fumbled with my keys, unlocked the door, then shut and bolted it. When I peeked through the side window, Ronan nodded and finally turned to leave.

Leaning back against the door, I grinned to myself and surveyed my emotions. No fear, no hesitation, nothing at all hindering me from wanting to launch myself headfirst into this relationship. And that’s exactly what I planned to do.