Taming Heather [Cariboo Lunewulf 1] (21 page)

Stephen scratched his stomach, successfully managing to untuck his work shirt even further from his slacks. He frowned at her.

“You’re actually dating a werewolf?” This time when he spoke, the group of people around them at the bar stopped talking, glancing from her boss to her.

Heather felt the heat rush over her cheeks. Joey took his arm off of her and shifted from one foot to the other.

“Don’t make such a big deal out of it.” He tried to lighten the moment. “She can do what she wants with her personal life.”

Heather was all too aware of several people around her staring at her, and then the whispering started. Her stomach twisted in knots, and she put her glass of beer down on the bar counter. She wasn’t sure she was ready for Stephen to make a scene over this.

“Not when you hit the front page.” Stephen put his glass of beer down too. He scowled at her. “If I had known this article hit such a personal level because you were talking about your boyfriend, things would have been different.”

“How would they have been different?” Heather asked. “The facts are accurate. It’s a damn good article. You can’t deny that.”

“That’s not the point. The last thing the newspaper needs is bad press because its best journalist is doing a werewolf.”

“That’s not fair.” She said the first thing that came to mind, which she had always done when she got mad about something. “I’m a good writer. That article has nothing to do with my personal relationship with Marc.”

She managed to keep her voice low, wishing more than anything that they weren’t having this conversation in a crowded bar. And that so many around them seemed to be obviously eavesdropping. More than anything she wanted to turn around again, assure herself that Gabe was far away from them, that he couldn’t hear their conversation.

Werewolves have heightened senses. He’s probably easily hearing every word.

“You may see it that way. But think about the public, Heather.” Her boss was suddenly all business. He shoved his stubby fingers into his pants, working to straighten his shirt. He didn’t succeed in tucking it all the way in, but shuffled around in the effort. “If word gets out that you wrote that article, and your impression of being able to get into the mind of a damn good cop are actually because you’re sleeping with a werewolf…well, that just won’t sit right.”

“What I do, or who I see on my own time is my own damn business.” Now Heather did raise her voice. She didn’t like where this conversation was heading—not one damn bit.

“No, my dear. That isn’t how it works. You want the fame of being a successful journalist, then you take my advice. Keep your ass clean. Break it off with that werewolf.” Stephen gave her that look that she knew all too well. “Humans and werewolves just don’t mix.” He sliced the air with his hand. “Everyone knows that.”

It was the way he turned his lips into a thin line. The hardened expression he gave her. He was royally pissed off. “You two have a good night. Suddenly I’m not in the mood for drinking anymore.”

Stephen turned, and headed out of the bar. Heather turned, her entire insides collapsing as she sighed heavily and rested her elbows on the damp bar counter.

“This isn’t fucking fair.” She ran her fingers over her face, hating the fact that she was in public at the moment. “Joey, I’m going to get out of here too.”

“You want me to give you a ride home?” He gave her back a quick massage, as always, the good buddy she loved working with.

She shook her head, remembering at that moment that she’d ridden with him from work to the corner bar.

“I think the walk back to my car might do me good right now.” She stood, and then reached into her purse to grab some cash for her drink. “All I want to do at the moment is wring Stephen Boswell’s neck. He has no right to tell me how to live my life.”

“Maybe if you just keep a low profile about it,” Joey suggested, and then shrugged.

She was glad at least that he didn’t judge her. Giving his arm a quick squeeze, she turned to leave. Her attention riveted down toward the end of the bar where Gabe had gone. He was surrounded by a group of women, all of them appearing to adore him while they laughed easily at something he’d just said. But he turned, giving her his full attention. She looked away quickly and hurried out of the bar.

The cold night air shocked her senses, but it felt good at the same time. The downtown area was well-lit and there were a fair amount of people walking the sidewalk considering it was dark, and would only get colder as the night wore on.

She hadn’t made it half a block when loud footsteps behind her had her looking over her shoulder out of curiosity.

“Who was the human who had his paws all over you?” Gabe caught up with her easily, falling into stride alongside her.

“I’m flattered you left all of those women for me,” she said instead of answering him.

“Werewolves take care of their own.” He looked down at her with eyes so similar to Marc’s.

Gabe was a damn good-looking man. His features were similar to Marc’s although his face looked gentler, like he hadn’t spent a moment of his life worrying about anything. His words sank into her slowly. Her tummy did a little flip-flop.

“You consider me one of your own?” she asked, and crossed her arms against the night. The cold air wasn’t bothering her though. If anything, her insides steamed with anger—anger at herself and at her boss.

“Marc does.” He didn’t elaborate.

She looked up at him, his expression blank. She couldn’t tell for the life of her what he was thinking. It was obviously a family trait.

“Well, my car is just down at the newspaper. You don’t have to walk with me.”

He didn’t answer, just stayed in stride next to her. Locking his hands behind his back, he gave her a scrutinizing stare.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question was that?”

“Who was that pup who had his paws all over you?”

Heather smiled. She could get real used to this protectiveness. There would have been a point in her life, not so long ago, when she would have told anyone who asked her about her business where they could stick it. And with her boss, and Margot, she might very well still do just that. But Gabe suddenly sounded a lot like Marc. It was like he too was putting a claim on her, allowing her into their small den. She really liked how that felt—like she belonged.

“I work with him. Joey is my photographer.”

Gabe didn’t say anything, just continued to walk alongside her. She felt like she had an oversized bodyguard. For such a tall man, he moved quietly, making her feel very small next to him.

They reached the next block and continued on in silence. Gabe wore a popular cologne, unlike Marc who never seemed to mess with such stuff. She hadn’t even noticed any bottles of aftershave or anything at his house. He was a soap and water kind of guy, needing nothing else than his natural charisma to turn a lady on. Damn, even dirty and in uniform after a day’s work, Marc was sexy as hell.

“I’d like to think that your thoughts have lingered toward my littermate, and that the smells of lust on you aren’t because of me.” It almost sounded like he was teasing her. But when Heather looked up at Gabe, his expression remained masked.

She remembered Marc telling her that he’d shared women with his brothers in the past. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and she turned her attention toward the street, hating for Gabe to see her blush.

“I’m not sure I like the fact that you can smell every emotion I’m feeling. It’s almost like you can read my mind.”

“Who says I can’t?” Now he was teasing, she could tell by how his blue eyes suddenly danced with laughter when she quickly looked up at him.

“Well, you aren’t so hard to read either, mister. Don’t think I don’t know why you are walking me to my car.” She really had no clue. But she could pull a bluff along with the best of them—at least she hoped that she could. “You don’t have me fooled for a minute. You’re no gallant gentleman.”

“Well, hell, you figured out already that I plan on seducing you?”

She almost tripped over her shoe. Gabe grabbed her arm, stabilizing her while she stared up at him, her mouth suddenly too dry to speak. His touch was gentle, yet firm. With his muscular physique, sporting a skintight T-shirt, and snug-fitting jeans and cowboy boots, there was no doubt in her mind he could have taken home any of those girls at the bar, if not several of them. As short as she was, and still in her work clothes, she knew she didn’t hold a flame to any of them. Her mind stumbled for a quick response, and came up lacking. She absolutely sucked at the flirty one-liners.

“Certainly you’re accustomed to men hitting on you. Hell, you had two men with you at the bar just now,” he said quietly.

“I’m not accustomed to any such thing.” She pulled her arm free of his grasp, and started walking faster toward her car. Suddenly she wanted to get away from this chick-magnet. “And I work with those men. We were out having a drink after work, nothing else.”

“That’s a damn good thing.” He nodded, his expression relaxing.

She looked ahead of them again, her mind anything but relaxed. If Gabe had wanted to establish that she didn’t make a habit of picking up men, maybe that explained his satisfied expression. Obviously he cared about his brother.

Heather didn’t have a lot of experience with a tight family. Hers was anything but that. After her mother died, her father had kept to himself, keeping food on the table, and a roof over her head, but that was about it. Emotions weren’t something she grew up with. Caring about family members wasn’t something she knew a lot about. She let out a sigh, her insides in such turmoil that Marc’s brother walking alongside her put her on edge.

Again her thoughts strayed to Marc. She could ask Gabe where he was right now, change the subject to something she’d enjoy talking about. This was his brother after all, she might be able to learn more about him, learn more about werewolves. Anything to end her embarrassing moment.

“Do werewolves change when they’re having sex?” She had the question out before she realized she’d once again touched on a subject that had her blushing furiously.

Gabe would think her an absolute fool before they’d even reached her car.

“I mean…when they’re with other werewolves?” she added, deciding she would just have to get accustomed to the heat in her cheeks.

Gabe stopped walking. They were on the edge of the parking lot to the newspaper and she wondered if this was as far as he’d walk her. But when she looked up at him, the stern expression on his face brought her pause.

“Marc changed while fucking you?” he asked, obviously having no problem talking about sex.

Well, she was the journalist. Asking questions was part of her job. She took a deep breath, matching his gaze, telling herself she’d come this far. She would damn well take advantage of being alone with the younger brother and get some answers.

“Well, not completely,” she told him.

He looked over her head, seeming to stare into the distance for a moment. “Only when they are mating,” he said finally.

“When they’re mating?”

He nodded, his manner seeming almost cold suddenly. For a moment, he had the hard look of his twin brother.

“When a werewolf mates, it’s for life. We bond and it can’t be undone. If Marc has changed while fucking you, then you are his bitch. That can’t be reversed.”

Her insides flip-flopped so hard that for a moment she thought she might be sick.

“But I’m not a werewolf,” she muttered, not sure if she was sick to her stomach from excitement, or fear.

“I’m sure you could take the matter to the pack leader. The law is written down. But I doubt seriously it mentions anything about whether the mate has to be werewolf or human.”

Chapter Sixteen

Paperwork sucked. Beyond a shadow of doubt, it was absolutely Marc’s least favorite part of his job. Sitting behind a desk wasn’t his thing. Unfortunately, getting everything done in his car sometimes simply wasn’t an option.

And now, after talking to Gabe on the phone, he felt even less like finishing up all of these forms. He needed to get out of here.

More than anything what he needed to do was find and talk to Heather. Gabe never should have discussed such things as mating with her. Granted, from what he understood, she’d brought up the subject, but damn it, that didn’t matter. If things were fucked up between him and Heather now, he’d have his brother’s ass.

It sounded like several things were brought up in this supposedly brief conversation Gabe had had with Heather. None of them sat well with Marc.

He growled at his computer screen, deleting what he’d just typed. At this rate he’d be here all night.

It seemed like he was all thumbs on his keyboard. But his mind kept straying to what Gabe had told him when he’d called briefly after leaving Heather.

Out of everything Gabe had rambled on about, the one thing that worried him the most was when he’d shared what he’d overheard in the bar.

“She told her boss she was seeing me?” At first Marc had swelled with pride, picturing his little bitch standing there announcing that she belonged to him.

“Yeah, and it pissed him off. He walked out on her.” Gabe had explained that Heather’s boss had made a small scene, raising his voice loud enough to attract the attention of those around them. “The place was full of humans but a few of our pack were within earshot. She left right after that and I decided it best to make sure she was okay.”