Page 16 of Shifter's Dream

Reed laughed, but only a little. “He said those words?”

Sage nodded. They headed into the back together, their arms full of dishes. “He might actually be a time-traveler from the 80s, so don’t get into any phone booths, small sheds, or DeLoreans with him. But other than that, I think he’s normal.”

Reed dropped her dishes, grabbed her plates of food, and headed back out, telling Sage one last thing before she hit the swinging door. “Not interested, Sage.”

“Troy,” Sage said back. “His name is Troy.”

Reed went through the door, the name pinging around her mind. Troy.Troy.

She liked it.

Reed hummed through her section, focusing on work, keeping an eye out for … forTroy, so he wouldn’t surprise her and she would have a chance to head the other way if he tried to talk to her.

Her section cleared out quickly and she cleaned up, watching for glasses that needed refills, and for the front door to open. MaybeTroyhad left.

She had only one thing left to do before she could take a break. She entered the small alcove behind the dance floor to lower the lights and set the music. Finished, she turned to go.

A tall man with dark hair a touch longer than most of the cops wore it, approached her. He was handsome and clean-shaven, except for sideburns that were just a touch too long.

“Can I help you?” she asked, using her waitress voice, the cool one that kept the cops from pinching her ass.

Too late, the cut over his eye made her realize it was him. It wasTroy, but with a freshly-shaved face. He gave her a smoldering look and moved in close to her, all the way into her personal space. She backed into the alcove, not thinking, staring at him.

It was like staring at the forest.

“Troy,” she breathed, all of her defenses giving way at his nearness. She felt like she knew him.

“You smell ammmazing,” he said warmly, darkly, on a rolling rasp that made her gasp. She could not reconcile that deep and growly voice and the careful way he spoke with a man who had said, “I can provide for her,” to Sage. He took a deep breath in through his nose, then stared at her. She couldn’t say a word. She could feel heat rolling off his body, making her sway toward him slightly.

His eyes flashed. “Your name,” he said, maybe demanded. She needed to catch her breath for a moment to know. She couldn't quite place his accent. It wasnotnorthern Illinois. She didn’t answer him, but instead, stared at the place on his face where the mustache had been. His lips were soft, his mouth kissable. She liked his look both ways, with the mustache and without it.

Troy touched the spot on his face. “I shaved it for you,” he said, speaking slowly, enunciating every syllable in a way she’d never heard. It wasn’t an accent, it was an affectation. It made him sexier, like she could feel the words fanning over her skin. Her body heated from the inside out, and she resisted the urge to fan herself.

Rule number 26!Reed screamed inside her mind.Brand new rule starting right now! Never date a man who shaves his mustache at a bar because he thinks you didn’t like it!

She shook her head, finding her voice. “I don't date cops,” she told him with finality.

He watched her intently, devouring her features like she was a piece of fine art and he’d paid good money to get into the museum.

He didn’t respond to what she had said at all.

Reed put her hand up and prepared to steamroll past him, just get away from him, push at him if she had to, anything to be able tobreathebut at the same time, he put up his hand like a mirror, like he thought she wanted to touch him, and he wanted to touch back. She pushed his hand away, but at the moment his warm hand touched her cool one, a sense of calmness and purpose filled her that made all the confusion fall away, if only for a moment. His eyes flared an orange like fire, looking like they were reflecting a flame in her own.

Reed pulled her hand away and rejected everything she thought she saw and felt with a hard and bitter certainty. She was imagining things. She did that.

Her skin still tingled, her body still heated.

Troy leaned in close and snarled one word.

“Mine,” rolled out of his mouth, the word reverberating with a deep animal growl in the small alcove, hitting her from all sides.

For just a moment, she knew exactly what he meant, and for just that moment, she believed him.

10 – She’s a Flight Risk

Troy crowded his female trying to catch the nuances twisting through her scent emotions, ignoring the people behind them, ignoring the music and the crowd and the competing scents. By some miracle, he got a mate and she was right there in front of him. She’d touched him, and in that moment, he had known her utterly. She’d been made for him, and him for her. They would fit each other’s pieces and smooth each other’s edges, if she would only stop rejecting him.

The only thought in his mind was pleasing her in any way he could and he tried to think of how to tell her that, but the words did not come. He tried to think where to touch her, but she didn’t want to be touched.

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