Chapter Nine #7
“You’re not right in the head.” Kevin sipped his coffee, eyeing Rio over the rim. “I’m not sure if I like that or should pat you down for hidden red flags. You seriously think an impala trashing your kitchen is a fun discovery?”
“I’ve seen worse.” Rio rested his fold arms on the table. “Last year a raccoon broke in and ate two entire cheesecakes. Came back the next night for more.”
Kevin snorted into his coffee. “Savage. I want to adopt him and name him Cheesy.”
“You’re safe here.” Rio could see lingering uncertainty in his mate’s eyes. “Nobody’s going to hassle you at Glass Oak.”
“Not unless your server revokes my coffee privileges.”
“Kenai just has to get to know you. He only teases the regulars.”
“And my father said I wouldn’t amount to anything. I leveled-up to regular-customer status overnight.”
The more his mate revealed about his past, even in jest, the more Rio wanted to wrap him in safety and hugs. It was no wonder Kevin had such a cynical view on life. He’d been raised by a self-loathing asshole who’d clearly viewed his son as a burden rather than a blessing.
Made him wonder just how deep Kevin’s scars ran.
“Next thing you know, you’ll be running the place,” Rio replied, then steered their conversation to lighter topics.
Kevin’s eyes brighten as he talked. He had had opinions on everything, from the best way to roast potatoes to why streaming playlists had made radio obsolete.
Rio listened to every word, every opinion Kevin had suppressed because some jackass had too many insecurities.
Kevin was enchanting, funny, and Rio was down bad. Even the sound of his mate’s voice had Rio grinning like an idiot.
Kenai returned, ready for the lunch order.
“Order whatever you want. Don’t worry about the price.” Rio winked.
His mate picked the steak sandwich then apologized for ordering the most expensive item on the lunch menu.
“I’ll have the same,” Rio said. “And a side salad.”
Kenai scribbled the order on his pad. “I’ll put your order in right away,” he said then hurried away.
A minute passed with nothing but the sound of diners talking and forks scraping plates.
“It feels weird,” Kevin said. “There’s a wolf after me, and I’m sitting out in the open like he’s not a threat. Is that another level-up or insanity creeping in?”
“It’s you finally feeling safe,” Rio said.
Kevin’s smile slid into something softer. “Is it really that simple?”
“Yes.”
His mate looked as if he wanted to believe Rio, but too afraid to hope.
When the food arrived, Kenai set the plates and salad down. “Hope you’re hungry,” he said.
Kevin dug into the sandwich. His appreciation was obvious from the first bite. “Oh my god.” He groaned under his breath. “A sandwich should not be this good. I’ve just become addicted. I’ll have to wash dishes to feed my habit.”
“I might be able to sway the owner into overlooking the cost.”
“You’re the owner, pussycat.” His mate rolled his eyes, the smile remaining.
Rio found himself smiling just watching the guy eat. It was almost primal, the satisfaction of feeding his mate.
During one of the lulls, Rio glanced out the window. The black SUV was back. Parked across the street.
He slid his phone out under the table and shot a quick text to Zeppelin. SUV parked out front. Watching. Then he slipped his phone away and turned his attention back to his mate.
Kevin appeared thoughtful. “I just trauma-dumped all over you, but you haven’t told me much about yourself.”
“Not much to tell. I was born in New Mexico. My family moved around a lot. I settled here thirty years ago and built Glass Oak with my bare hands.”
“That’s your idea of not having much to tell?” Kevin asked. “You built a restaurant from scratch while I can’t even build a model car without gluing my fingers together.”
“I like to keep things simple.”
Kevin took a bite of his sandwich, chewed, then swallowed. “Is that why you live alone in the woods outside of town or are you hiding a secret serial killer life?”
“You took off before I could show you my collection of bodies stored in the basement.” Rio fought not to laugh when his mate’s lips slightly parted mid-chew.
His expression was priceless. “Please tell me your joking or I’m filing for emergency custody of Cheesy.”
Rio shook with laughter, imagining his mate walking into a courtroom, the raccoon in a baby carrier strapped to his chest.
“Oh my god.” Rio pressed a hand to his gut. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.”
“Junior is not a source of entertainment,” Kevin sniffed.
Laughter shook Rio so hard, he leaned sideways in the booth. Kevin had collapsed into a fit of giggles, unable to hold back.
The raccoon conversation was hilarious, but not funny enough to shake him this hard.
It was a pressure valve finally being released inside of Rio. Not only for the situation with his mate, but decades of mounting bullshit being purged, thanks to his raccoon-loving menace.
Chapter Five
Movement caught Rio’s attention. Ameer had gotten out of his truck and was heading toward the door.
Goddamn it.
The thug adjusted his suit jacket and walked in like was an average, paying customer.
Amy was at the host stand and gave Ameer a bright smile. Her hand hovered over the menus as she shifted her weight. Her voice was polite, welcoming, unaware of the monster behind the pleasant smile.
“Welcome to Glass Oak. Table for one?” she asked.
Ameer didn’t even glance at her. He let his gaze sweep the restaurant, skipped right over the lunch crowd, and locked eyes with Rio. Amy opened her mouth again, maybe to try a different greeting, but by then Rio was already out of the booth and moving.
“Got it, Amy,” Rio said smoothly, stepping casually to block her from the parasite’s gaze.
Amy looked at him, gave a slight nod, then walked to the bar and started arranging glasses. Good girl.
The tension humming between them was thick, yet the humans didn’t seem to notice. Glass Oak felt safe, warm, the kind of place you’d bring your mom after church, not the kind to kick off a war.
Ameer seemed unfazed, standing casually by the door like he expected to be seated.
Rio stepped into his space. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.” He didn’t whisper, but his voice dropped enough to keep things private.
“Food smells good. Got my stomach rumbling.” His tone was good-natured, but those eyes promised destruction.
Ameer flicked his gaze over Rio’s shoulder, toward the booths. He didn’t bother to hide where he was looking. “Smelled something interesting on my way through town. Figured I’d stop in and see for myself. Place looks nice. Real cozy.”
Rio’s muscles coiled.
Eyes like Ameer’s never missed a thing. “Food looks delicious,” he said quietly, tone shifting into something cool and taunting. “Bet all kinds of people come through here.”
“This a shakedown? You working for the mob?” Rio chuckled. “Boss send you to fetch his food, errand boy?”
Ameer’s mouth tightened into a hard line.
His hands dropped loosely to his sides. “Coffee’s fine.
Cream and sugar. Place with an atmosphere like this, you’d expect to see better company.
” His gaze drifted pointedly toward Kevin then back to Rio.
“You running a petting zoo or just collecting strays?”
Rio didn’t take the bait. If Ameer wanted to measure dicks, he’d have to work harder. “We’re out of coffee.”
Kenai passed Rio’s left, two steaming mugs in his hand.
Ameer leaned in, barely noticeable unless you were looking. “That any way to talk to a paying customer?” he said in a low tone.
“You’re scum. Good enough reason for me,” Rio replied in the same hushed tone. “You’re only here to intimidate. If you want lunch, try the gas station. Or a kennel.”
For a heartbeat, neither man moved. The clang of a pan from the kitchen broke the silence. Somewhere in the back a server laughed too loud, muffled by a swinging door.
A sound filtered in over the din of the restaurant. Deep and guttural, with a great sense of timing. A cluster of motorcycles pulled to a stop out front, engines rumbling.
Zeppelin, Vaughn, and Quinn dismounted in perfect sync, moving like a pack should.
Zeppelin led, too tall and broad to be mistaken for anyone else.
Next to him, Vaughn paced a step behind, eyes already scanning the front of the restaurant.
Quinn broke off, peeling away from the other two and sliding into the front seat of Ameer’s parked SUV.
Ameer’s expression didn’t change. If anything, his posture relaxed. “Your security system’s cute,” he said, just loud enough for Rio to hear. “But muscle won’t always be around to save you.”
Rio twirled his finger. “Turn around and keep it moving or I’ll be cleaning your blood out of the grout.”
The guy was getting on Rio’s last nerve. This was nothing more than posturing, and he was tired of playing Ameer’s petty game.
The front of the restaurant went dead quiet. Voices lowered as forks froze mid-bite. It wasn’t the tension between him and Ameer. It was Zeppelin stepping into the sunlight from shade, making every everyone in the restaurant pause.
Vaughn entered at Zeppelin’s right, not as tall as his alpha, but no less intimidating.
Ameer straightened, stance still relaxed, his thumb hooked in the pocket of his pants. “Your backup has arrived.”
“Don’t need backup. They’re family, and family’s got your back.” Rio glanced behind Ameer. “Your back’s looking pretty empty.”
Zeppelin paused three strides in, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on Ameer. He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t have to. “You’re done here,” he said.
Ameer shrugged, appearing unbothered. He glanced at Rio and gave a flicker of a grin. “They always have to send an alpha.”
Zeppelin smirked. “I’m not here to save him. I’m just making sure my boy’s not outnumbered. Move along, unless you want to take the express exit.”
“Alpha like you…” Ameer mused, looking past Zeppelin. “You don’t get tired of playing nursemaid to so many losers?”