Page 22 of Rejected Bullied Mate

"Penny for your thoughts?"

I blinked and looked up to find a man leaning across the counter toward me, grinning. He was handsome, with jet-black hair that fell into his eyes and a boyish charm that he used to his advantage.

"Just zoned out for a second," I replied, trying to smile back, "What can I get you?"

"You know what I like." His grin widened, and he winked at me.

"Sure do." I grabbed a cup and scribbled his name on it. Scott. He'd been coming in ever since I started, being overly friendly, bordering on flirtatious, but he was nice enough and tipped well. I didn't want to talk to him for long periods of time, but I didn't mind him too much, either.

"It's pretty quiet in here today," he observed as he looked around. "I guess I just missed the rush."

"You've got perfect timing, then," I said as I started pouring his coffee. "We've had a bit of a slow morning today, so you won't have to wait long.”

"I'm not just here for the coffee," he said, and I had to suppress a groan. Ugh. Shifters. Always so confident. And so persistent.

I'd been getting that vibe from Scott since the first day he'd come in about a week ago, and he didn't seem to be deterred by my lack of interest. The truth was, I was tired of shifters trying to get close to me. Not in a romantic way—word had gotten out that Samson had performed a mating ceremony with his Omega, and that we were basically married in the eyes of the pack—but other pack members tried their damnedest to befriend me to be on Samson's good side.

Even after I struck Pete, Curt, and Francine, other pack members didn't seem to be overly deterred from talking to me. It annoyed the hell out of me. I didn't want anyone to treat me kindly because they wanted something from me. It all felt so fake.

Scott didn't give off that same sucking-up vibe, though. He was full of himself, no matter how early in the morning.

I kept up a running conversation with him as I made his coffee, and he flirted with me the entire time. By the time I handed him his cup, I was already over him.

"Well, Scott," I said, hoping he would take the hint, "It was nice seeing you this morning."

"It's always nice to see you," he replied smoothly, "Maybe tomorrow I can convince you to have lunch with me?"

"Uhh..." I hedged, wondering what sort of maniac would try to hit on Samson's Omega, but before he could push the subject, the door of the cafe slammed open, and a tall, blond, pissed-off figure stomped in.

Samson, as if he'd been able to sense that I'd been thinking about him.

Scott's eyes flickered to Samson, and then back to me. "Well," he said, stepping away from the counter, "It looks like I've overstayed my welcome." He winked at me again, but I barely noticed, because Samson was practically steaming as he approached me.

"What in the hell is going on here?" Samson demanded, his voice low and dangerous. His blue eyes were locked onto Scott, who had moved to a table in the corner and was sipping his coffee without a care in the world.

"Nothing," I replied shortly. "What are you doing here?"

"I just stopped by to check on you." He leaned forward, and his voice dropped, "You know, since you've barely spoken a word to me since Saturday."

"You could, you know, call instead of barging in here."

"It looks like my instincts were right on the money." his words were a growl, and before I knew it, he was grabbing me by the arm so he could pull me against him, eyes fixed on Scott. "If this fucker is going to be sniffing around all the time, then I think it's time for you to find another job, mate."

"I'm not your mate," I said angrily, but I let him pull me closer.

He looked down at me, his eyes blazing, "Fine. Wife.”

I glared back at him, but he didn't flinch away from the challenge in my gaze.

"You can't run away forever, Kiera," he said quietly. "You're mine."

"Maybe by shifter rules," I shot back, "But that doesn't mean you get to tell me what to do."

"You know, this whole attitude of yours is getting very old."

"As is you being an asshole!"

"You might as well get used to that," Scott unexpectedly laughed from the booth where he'd been watching us. "Samson has always, and will always, be an asshole. Takes after his dad that way."

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