Chapter Nine #2
“A bed, my mate, and privacy. But I’ll settle for the first two.”
Zack blinked, lips slightly parting at the visual that popped into his head. “Are you trying to make me work with a boner?”
A purr rumbled in Colton’s chest, low enough for only Zack to hear. His gaze lowered to Zack’s groin, then slid up his body in the filthiest way possible. He could practically see the scene playing out in Colton’s head.
“Drag me onto the tabletop and I’ll kick your ass,” Zack warned, reminding himself why that was a bad idea and not exactly what he wanted.
“Spoilsport,” Colton grumbled. “Since I can’t devour you, I’ll have coffee and whatever you recommend.”
“Pancakes are good. So’s the omelet.”
“Dealer’s choice.” Colton leaned back, arms spreading across the top of the booth, completely at ease, reminding Zack of the morning they’d met. “How’re you holding up?”
Face burning hotter, Zack glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. “Fine. A little sore.”
“Only a little?”
“Sorry you didn’t screw me into a coma?”
A low rumble of laughter rolled out of Colton, and Zack nearly dropped his order pad. This was dangerous. Being this close to him in public, trying to act professional when every nerve ending remembered what those hands felt like, what that mouth could do—
“Stop melting my brain, kittycat.” Zack retreated before he did something that would get him fired and possibly arrested.
Jace intercepted him at the counter with a knowing smirk. “Try not to lose your pen this time.”
Zack’s humiliation knew no bounds in this place. “He’s…a friend.”
“Uh-huh. Might want to say it with a little conviction next time. Besides, friends don’t look at each other like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like they’re ready to test the structural integrity of that booth.” Jace grinned. “He’s looking at you right now like you’re the waffles to his syrup. Cream to his coffee. Yolks to his eggs. If that’s friendship, I’ve been tragically shortchanged my entire social life.”
Jace strode off. Shaking his head, Zack put in Colton’s order. Unable to resist, he peeked over his shoulder, pulse skyrocketing. Jace was right. Colton looked like he might volt across the diner and—
“You fall asleep standing up?” Axel’s booming voice shattered Zack’s fantasy.
“I’m willing everyone’s order to materialize in front of them.”
“Five wrong orders at five different tables in under a second. Congratulations on your new personal best,” Axel grumbled.
“I’m fast-tracking my way to employee of the month.” Zack lifted a fresh carafe from the warming plate.
“You’re not even on the right racetrack.” Axel grabbed Colton’s ticket, muttering about hiring actual waitstaff instead of daydreaming mannequins. Zack tuned him out the moment he caught Colton’s gaze again, that predatory hunger still blazing in those impossibly magnetic eyes.
With zero resistance, Zack sauntered toward him, hips possibly swaying. From the way Colton’s eyes darkened, the effort was very much appreciated.
“Food’ll be up in a few.” Zack poured the coffee with a steady hand.
“Thanks, Blue.”
That feeling of being watched prickled along Zack’s neck.
Leaning down slightly, he lowered his voice. “There's someone in my section. Two-seater in the corner. He’s been staring at me for a while now.”
Colton’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in his posture. Not tense, exactly, but more alert. “Staring how?”
“Like they’re trying to memorize my face. Won’t make eye contact, super fidgety, ordered coffee and nothing else.”
“You want me to handle it?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Frustration leaked into his voice. “Probably nothing. Could just be someone having a bad day.”
Without being obvious about it, Colton shifted in his seat, angling himself so he could see the corner booth in his peripheral. A few seconds passed before he pulled out his phone, tapping something quickly.
“What are you doing?”
“Sending a photo to Grayson. He’ll run it, see if anything pops.”
“That seems... extreme.”
“Better safe.” Colton’s gaze met his, steady and serious. “I’m staying until they leave.”
* * * *
Colton waited two beats before pushing off from the booth.
Outside, light spilled over wet pavement, the aftermath of earlier rain leaving everything slick and shadowed. Heat refused to break, heavy air sticking to every inch of skin, and somewhere behind him, cars hissed through shallow puddles on Main.
He didn’t look like he was following. Years in security had taught him the value of acting casual. He squinted through the overcast glare, checked his phone like he had somewhere else to be, then trailed the stranger with just enough space to make it look like a coincidence.
Even rounding the corner, the guy never once glanced back.
Colton studied the quick, twitchy movements.
Shoulders hunched up around his ears. Hands deep in the pockets of his cheap windbreaker.
When strangers passed on the sidewalk, the guy ducked his head and sped up before easing back to a self-conscious shuffle.
Probably didn’t want anyone to see his face. That was a classic tell right there. Colton’s mouth tugged in a half-smile. People almost never gave away so much in public.
He let the gap widen and slowed to check out a window display, pretending to focus on a rack of discount sunglasses. Over the top of a mirrored pair, he caught the flash of his target ducking around another corner.
Colton moved. Didn’t hurry, didn’t give himself away, just kept the guy in sight while ignoring the muggy air sticking his shirt to his skin.
The stranger was fast. Not a jog, not a hustle, but feet carried him down the block like he was on a damn mission. Maybe he was. Colton clocked the direction—a couple of blocks east, straight toward a chunk of town with only a handful of businesses, most of them not open this early.
Colton’s boots squelched once on a loose patch of sidewalk, but he slowed and let the distance stretch. No reason to draw attention. Guy never once looked behind him. Even better. Not a trained tail, then.
He kept his own stride even, pausing at a crosswalk when the light was red, pretending real hard he was just another resident on this gloomy-ass day.
The guy ahead ducked his head, hands gripping pockets. Shoulders hunched.
Colton trailed, keeping an even four car lengths between them. He didn’t dare risk getting too close, not while the sidewalks were this empty. Rain kept most people inside, save the idiots who had places to be and the predators determined to blend in.
A shadow flickered across the next block, caught his eye. Grayson, standing under the battered green awning of “Paul’s Pawn & Gun,” face buried in an honest-to-god newspaper, but his eyes flicked up as Colton gave a quick jerk of his chin toward the target.
Grayson’s body shifted. Years of working together meant they didn’t need to talk. He fell back from the corner, eyes locking on the fidgety bastard, and started tailing him from the opposite side of the street.
Target never so much as hesitated. If anything, he picked up the pace. He skirted the edge of the curb, dropping into a slumpy stride, and kept heading east.
Grayson hung back, held up a phone, acting like he was checking the time, but his eyes tracked every step.
Colton’s muscles tensed, ready for the chase. Instead, the rain picked up, starting as a gentle tap and then building again until droplets misted every car in sight.
Guy didn’t even raise his collar.
The rhythm of the street swallowed Colton up, just another guy hustling along. The rain left a wet, grimy line along the curb, water dripping onto his boots from weeds growing through cracks in the sidewalk.
The stranger stopped at a battered Ford, wrenched the door, and slid behind the wheel.
Colton didn’t even bother glancing that way as he rounded the intersection, but he caught the plate out of his peripheral and sent a quick text to Grayson.
The lion shifter would remember the numbers. He didn’t miss details.
Grayson watched the car idle. “Go check on your mate. I’ll see where this guy runs off to.”
Colton watched his team leader head to his truck parked a block back, but his eyes never left the rust bucket of a car as it rolled off the curb and cut through traffic.
Waited until the car vanished, then doubled back the way he’d come, the walk feeling twice as long. The town had that washed-out, post-storm look. Sidewalks slick, windows fogged, and the air heavy enough to lick off your skin.
Inside the diner, the customers were quieter now, the breakfast crowd thinned to a handful of locals.
Zack was nowhere in sight.
Every muscle wanted to launch itself into panic mode. Colton scanned the booths, the tables, kitchen pass window, nada.
The counter was bare except for a smeared napkin and half a slice of pie. Jace had vanished into the kitchen, Axel was hunched over receipts, ignoring everyone.
Maybe he’d gone on break. Maybe the creep from before had circled back and—
Zack stepped out of the bathroom, hands sliding into the back pockets of his jeans. He looked up in time to snag Colton’s gaze, then flashed a grin so bright it damn near knocked Colton on his ass.
Any tension spun off like old cobwebs.
Zack barely got the first word out before Colton kissed him. Just a quick flash of tongue and teeth, a grip on the back of Zack’s shirt that said you’re not going anywhere, not now or ever.
“Missed you.” Colton’s voice came out rough.
“You weren’t gone that long.” A tiny smirk.
Their eyes locked, and Colton’s stomach went low and hot. He wanted to pick Zack up and carry him out of the diner, but judging from the way Axel eyed them, now wasn’t the time. “Everything good here?”
“My life is a whirlwind of bad tips and hotcakes, but otherwise, yeah.” Zack grinned, voice going just a tad wobbly. “Unless you count the guy who ordered a bagel and then, I shit you not, tried to return it.”
Jace snorted. “Don’t get him started on the bagel conspiracy.”
Zack leaned in, whispering, “Did you catch the creeper?”
Colton shook his head. “Lost him. Grayson’s on it, though.”
“He was my size. I could’ve taken him.”
That earned a real laugh out of Colton. “Next time, Blue.”
Colton claimed a seat by the window, watching the street and the slow drag of traffic. There wouldn’t be a next time. He would make sure of it.