Page 15 of Enemy Wolf

I blinked and looked up to find Kaz waving a hand in front of my face, his brow knitted with concern.

“You just spaced out for a minute.” He dropped to his haunches to become eye level with me. Apparently, I’d sat down on an empty keg at some point. Kaz’s wings fanned out slightly, as if to shield me. “You okay, Shi?”

“Yeah!” I forced out a laugh, stretching my mouth into a smile. “You know how it is. Just running through the perpetual to-do list.”

Kaz’s face relaxed, and he reached out to pat a friendly hand on my knee. “You work too hard.”

“Nothing I didn’t sign up for.” I stood up from the keg and took a quick peek inside the cold box. “We all set?”

“Uh, yeah.” Kaz cleared his throat, rising to full height again. “You’re all hooked up for tonight.”

“Thanks! I can’t wait to taste that bourbon stout, I know you’ve been barrel-aging it for years and—”

“Can I take you out to dinner?”

The question came out in a rush of syllables that I didn’t fully process at first. When I opened my mouth to say, Sorry, what?, that was when it hit me, and no sound came out.

Kaz’s wings were pulled in tight to his back, the dark red feathers stiff as he waited for a response. His face was carefully blank, but he wouldn’t have asked me if he was hoping for a no, would he?

“Kaz...” I trailed off while my brain sputtered, trying to think of a rejection that would land softly in the midst of everything else toiling in my head. The poor guy had no idea he was asking me out at the worst possible time.

“Kaz, you’re awesome, and we have a great working relationship, but—”

The angel raised his palms with a kind smile. “It’s all good. I can take no for an answer.”

My heart sank because while he was smiling in a no-big-deal kind of way, his wings had drooped.

“I promise it’s nothing against you or the fact that we work together,” I insisted. “I’ve just...got a lot going on, and I’m not dating at all right now.”

“Sure, I get it.” He started stacking kegs, moving them fluidly through the air like they weighed nothing. “But if you ever change your mind and want a night off, let me know.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “And it would be just dinner. No expectations other than that.”

“I know. And thanks, Kaz.”

I had zero doubts that Kaz was a perfect gentleman, but there was a roughness to him that was unique among angels, and that certainly had appeal. Like all of his winged brethren, he was gorgeous. But those tattoos and the physicality of his work certainly put him more, well, down-to-earth. And that said nothing of the fact that he was kind and respectful to everyone, without that air of superiority many angels seemed to have.

Kaz would make someone very lucky one day. But even without all of my drama going on, and despite how much I adored him, I could never see that person being me.

For some reason, Orson’s cold eyes and scowling face popped into my head, and my heartbeat quickened at the thought of him.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair,” he said, the mood turning awkward as we just stood around.

“Wait,” I protested. “Why don’t you stay and hang out for a bit while we open? The customers have been dying to meet the brewer who makes all their favorites.” It wasn’t a lie, but I also felt really bad about turning him down. “Plus, you never know. You might meet someone.”

Kaz chuckled, shaking his head dismissively, but his wings lifted and flared out slightly. “Alright, I suppose I could hang out for a couple drinks.”

“You’ll have fun, I promise.” I squeezed his forearm. “We always get a great crowd on Friday nights.”

* * *

Four hours later, Stout & Spirit had every seat filled and was standing room only. Laughter and conversation filled the space with a warm, uplifting energy. One good thing I could say about werewolves? They were happiest when brought together, and that showed in the smiles, the backslapping and playful shoving, the dice games on the tables, and the beer constantly flowing.

Riley and I were constantly running back and forth—pouring, mixing, loading and emptying the dishwasher, but we were having a blast. I knew this crowd, and they had always been good to their bartenders. People brought empties when they ordered more drinks. They told jokes and stories while they waited. Everyone was in a good mood.

Kaz sat at one of the tables with long benches on either side and had invited an angel friend to hang out. I didn’t know the guy, but he was your standard-issue angel, gorgeous with long brownish-blonde hair that belonged in a shampoo commercial. The two angels were hanging out in mixed company—males, females, humans, and werewolves. One human woman couldn’t keep her eyes off Kaz, and he seemed to return her interest, occasionally chatting with his friend or one of his beer fanboys, but most of his attention lingered on her.

Atta boy, Kaz, I thought, wiping down the bar for the millionth time.

A good chunk of Howling Death were here as well, and the group of massive leather clad werewolves formed their own little ecosystem at another table. I described them like a black hole to Riley, and she laughed in agreement.

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