Grif (Tales of the Were - Redstone Clan) (2 page)

With a deep breath that only made things worse as he inhaled yet more of her lovely scent, he steeled himself to look back up at her. The eyes that met his sparkled with intelligence, a surprising innocence, and expectation. She was waiting for him to place his food order, he realized with a bit of chagrin.

He’d been so preoccupied with her mere presence, he’d lost sight of his ultimate goal—lunch. It was a small goal, to be sure, but after the hell of the past few months, he’d learned to take one thing at a time, set priorities and see them through. To lose sight of even such a small goal as this, was a shocking misstep to a man who prided himself on his control of all within his realm.

Grif ordered the steak special without much fanfare, taking her measure and studying the hidden fire in her eyes. He would definitely like to experience that flame more closely, but he knew this was neither the time nor the place. He counseled himself to settle down, even as the fit of his jeans suddenly became almost too tight to bear.

This distracting female was worth examining further, he thought, as she brought him his food a few minutes later. He resisted the urge to flirt with her. The place was busy with the lunch crowd and he would no doubt be interrupted. He had time. He would wait until the place cleared a bit. Then he would make his move.

“Sweetie, I’m going over to Linette’s to pick up that cobbler for tonight,” Ed called loudly from the back as he left his diner. The lunch rush was effectively over and Grif watched the pretty waitress efficiently putting everything back to rights.

Only the table of werewolves and Grif were left inside now. And the woman, of course.

He watched as she went over to the booth against the window to clear some of the wolves’ plates away and ask them if they wanted desert. He had just turned to set down his coffee cup when he heard her gasp.

Grif turned back in time to see the largest of the male wolves grab her by the wrist and push his sloppy plate at her with enough force to make the food left on it splatter over her chest. The bad-mannered wolf snarled as he let her go and the plate dropped to the floor, shattering at her feet. She looked aghast but somehow submissive as Grif stood, ready to rip the wolf limb from limb.

The other wolves rose, facing him down.

“Stay out of this,” one of them warned him in a throaty growl. “It’s none of your business.”

The leader of the small group stood then too, throwing some bills at the woman’s face as he looked down at her. The wolves were all much taller than the small human. It really wasn’t fair for them to pick on her.

“We don’t want you here.” The werewolf openly growled at the woman, surprising Grif again. “Leave while you still can.”

He issued his warning as Grif moved closer to stand behind the woman, making his intention to protect her clear, but the wolves stomped out with a few snarls, making no more threatening moves toward her. When the last one was finally gone, Grif turned his attention fully to the woman. She was kneeling on the floor, trying to collect the pieces of broken china, but he stopped her nervous motions by placing one big hand over hers.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. You’ll cut yourself.”

He could see the tears tracking down her face as she accepted his help to stand.

“You’re right.” She surreptitiously wiped the moisture from her eyes and turned to get a dustpan and broom kept behind the counter. Grif just stood and watched her graceful moves, trying his best to puzzle out what had just happened.

He watched her, remembering how her hands were even softer than he had imagined, a tactile delight. He also realized that she had done something to piss off the local werewolf Pack and they were trying to run her out of town. Not good.

Something about this petite human angered the wolves, though as a general rule, shifters didn’t much bother themselves with the doings of humans. It struck him as odd that the wolves would try to scare off one small human female.

Whatever she’d done, it had to be something big. Something big enough to stir the wolves to anger and action. They’d made no bones about wanting her gone.

Unacceptable, he thought with an inward growl. He had only just met her. She couldn’t leave now. He would not allow those cocky wolf bastards to run her off. Not without learning what this was all about, at the very least.

There was something special about this little human and he wanted to find out what it was that drew him so irresistibly to her. He felt inexplicably protective of her, though he knew it was odd in the extreme that he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and keep her safe from all harm. Still, his instincts were screaming at him like the cat that lived inside his soul and he had learned never to go against his instincts. Every time he did, disaster soon followed.

He watched her, his gaze following her every move. She was shaking like a leaf when she returned to the mess on the floor. Stepping silently forward, he lifted the dustpan and brush out of her trembling fingers, letting his warm touch slide along her hands, offering that little bit of comfort. What he really wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and make love to her the most tender way he knew how, but that would have to wait. For now.

“Sit for a moment while I do this for you, sweetheart.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

He shrugged, trying to keep things casual while the protective beast inside him roared to life. “Let’s just say I don’t like to see a pretty lady treated so shabbily.” The beast wanted to stand between her and all harm, though he could not understand what it was about this woman that brought out his primitive side so strongly.

She smiled, but it was still a shaky smile. The threat of violence and confrontation had shaken her to the core, but even as he watched, she firmed her spine and a resolute light entered her pretty eyes. He put some space between them as he dumped the remains of the plate and what food he could scrape off the floor into the large waste bin behind the counter.

Snagging a towel, he handed it to her as he walked back, sitting on the opposite side of the booth. With a pointed glance, he indicated the food stains on her voluptuous breasts, charmed when she flushed from neck to forehead.

She used the towel to try to wipe some of it off and he did his best not to watch as the damp towel pressed over her breasts, desperate not to picture his hands taking the same path without any layers of cloth between them. As it was, his jeans already fit a bit too snug, just from the delicious scent of her. He had to focus.

“So do you want to tell me what that was all about?”

She shrugged, keeping her attention on her stained blouse. The way that towel and her hands were rubbing over her generous curves was making him painfully hard, but there were more important matters to settle first.

He decided in that moment, that he would have her—at least once before the wolves ran her off. The cat in him purred at the thought, but he had to be realistic. The wolf Pack ran this territory. There were way more of them than he could counter alone and he was new to the area to boot. By rights, this territory was theirs and if they didn’t want this pretty human female in it, they would probably succeed in getting rid of her.

But not before he got in her pants. He hadn’t had a woman since moving into the cabin, and even before that, he’d never bedded a human. He knew nothing could come of it, which was good in a way. He didn’t need any more complications in his life at the moment—especially of the female variety, but just the idea of a good romp with this woman stirred his senses in a way nothing ever had before. He vowed he’d have at least one night with her in his arms before he let her slip away.

“It’s an old dispute,” she said finally, shrugging, drawing him back to the matter at hand. It was obvious she didn’t want to tell him why the wolves wanted her gone, but he would find out, he assured himself.

He changed tacks. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” He offered her a friendly smile and noted when she relaxed a bit with the seeming change of topic.

“My grandfather lived here most of his life. He died recently and left me his place. I just moved in.”

“So you live here in town?” He tried for a casual tone and apparently succeeded.

“No, I live out on the edge of the res.”

“You’re at least part Native, then?” His eyes roamed hungrily over her fine features, noting the proud Native American genetics in her strong cheekbones and dark eyes. But her eyes weren’t brown. No, they were a deep, dark, foresty green. Instantly, he was fascinated by their hue and sparkle.

“I’m only a quarter Northern Arapaho, but grandpa made sure of my status with the tribe when I was born. They’re not exactly welcoming me with open arms, but they know grandpa’s wishes and I’m so far out from the center of the res, they easily forget I’m there.”

“I live in the mountains too.” Volunteering information about his life wasn’t something he did often, but this woman brought out all kinds of new behaviors in him, he was fast learning. “I don’t get into town much except when I need supplies or work.”

“What do you do?” Her question was tentative but friendly. He sensed she wanted to talk about anything and everything but the confrontation that had just taken place.

He shrugged, understanding her need to push aside the ugliness of the past few minutes.

“I do odd jobs, mostly. I know carpentry, plumbing, electric, that sort of thing.” He didn’t mention the scale on which he’d done those jobs before the tragedy that drove him and his little sister into the mountains. That life was behind him now, at least for the time being, but the knowledge remained with him

“Boy, I wish I knew that stuff. Grandpa’s house is just about falling down around me.” She laughed and a trickle of sensation danced along his spine. “It’s all I can do to keep the generator going.”

His brows lowered, concern stirring hot and hard. “That’s not good with winter coming on.” All his protective instincts came to bear as he thought of her all alone out in the freezing cold woods with no heat or light.

She shrugged. “I’m not rich. I don’t have much money to put into fixing things up.”

He saw his opportunity and dove for it. “How about I come out to check your generator tomorrow. I don’t like the idea of a woman alone in the snow with no power.”

She looked cautious for a moment and stood from the table. “That’s very kind of you but…” she laughed with a hint of nervousness, “…I don’t even know your name.”

He remained sitting, not wanting to loom over her, needing to put her at ease. Holding up his hands palms outward, he smiled his most innocent smile. If a predator like him could ever look truly innocent.

“I understand. A woman can’t be too careful these days. I think Ed might vouch for me, though. I’ve done odd jobs for him a time or two since I came to town. And for some of the other shop keepers. I could give you a list of references, if you like.”

It was all true, too. He stayed in his fur as long as he could, but when he was human, he had to keep busy. Doing odd jobs gave him some sense of satisfaction and kept his mind from the pain that haunted him—at least for short stretches of time. He’d fixed Ed’s kitchen wiring a time or two and done carpentry jobs for some of the shopkeepers and homeowners in the area. He was popular, partially because he charged so little for his services, and partly because he did such a good job. He’d earned a decent reputation with the townsfolk and knew she’d find that out easily enough if she asked around.

“All right, I’ll ask Ed what he thinks.” She moved back behind the counter, almost defensively.

Standing from the booth, he resumed his seat at the counter. “It’s good to be cautious.” He nodded as she topped off his coffee. “And my name is Griffon Redstone. You can call me Grif.”

She smiled then, wiping her hands for a final time on the towel. “I’m Lindsey Tate.” She held one petite hand out over the counter for him to shake.

He took it with barely suppressed eagerness. Her skin was so soft. Her neatly manicured fingernails were short and attractive in a way he hadn’t expected. His palm tingled against hers for the moment out of time she allowed him to hold her captive. Not wanting to scare her off, he released her much sooner than his inner beast would have wished.

“I’m going to be in town for the rest of the day.” He rose slowly, unwilling to scare off his prey before the chase had begun in earnest. “Talk to Ed and maybe Wilma over at the dress shop, or Pete the barber. I’ve done work for all of them. I’ll be back in for a late dinner before heading back up the mountain. You can let me know if you want my help then. Or just leave a message with Ed.” Settling his beat up Stetson hat on his head, he dug in his pocket for his wallet.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For before.” She came around the edge of the counter to stand in front of him.

He touched her soft cheek with one long finger, unable to resist. Her eyes dilated in a way that told him she enjoyed his touch, but it was too soon to push her, so he pulled back with a smile. “I hate to see anyone hassle a lady.”

She nodded tightly at the reminder. “And thanks for the offer to come look at the generator. I’ll let you know, but—” She seemed to blush a bit as she hesitated. “Um, how much would it cost me?”

She’d already told him she wasn’t rolling in dough, and something inside him softened. “To get your generator running? Consider it my public service for the week. You can pay for parts, if you like, if any are needed. But if you need any other work done on the place, I can give you an estimate after I see what’s what. Ask Ed and the others what I charged them. I think you’ll find I’m fair.”

“Why would you do that for me?” she asked in wonder, her thoughts slipping out apparently uncensored.

He tipped his hat as he left payment for the meal plus a generous tip on the counter by his plate. “You remind me a little of my sister.” Pain lanced through him as he thought of the young woman whose life had been cut brutally short. “I think you’ve got some of the same spirit she had. If she were in your shoes, I would’ve liked someone to have helped her if they could.”