Page 2 of Meant for Them
“Here, let me help you, don’t want you to slip again.”
“Oh my god, are you laughing at me? Asshole.”
I get up too quickly and immediately slip again. This time though, in my haste, I reach for the mop bucket that’s still got a little bit of brackish water in it, tilting it over right onto my face.
Fuck me.
“Here, I insist.”
Oh, he’s definitely laughing at me now.
I’m not happy about it, but this time I accept the hand that’s offered, kick the now-empty bucket in irritation, and nearly eat shitagain, except that Mr. Hero Pants grabs me by the waist and stops my momentum immediately.
“Maybe you should just stop moving for a second until you get your bearings.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He’s got me pressed against him, and unfortunately, it feels nice.
“There are worse ways I could be spending my morning, that’s for sure.”
When I do pull away from him, I reach for a stack of napkins and pat my face off, then promptly move the wet floor sign closer to the door so I can mop the mess up again and stow the bucket.
Thankfully, I have an extra t-shirt in my backpack, but my bra is soaked so I’m just going to have to go without it for now. I’ll decide later if I give a fuck about that.
After fixing my hair in the shitty office and wiping myself down with a pack of baby wipes, I head back out to the counter, only to see that the pretty man is still standing there, still needing me to assist him.
Great. Really, just fantastic. “Which pump?”
He stares at me. “I beg your pardon?”
I motion to the gas pumps outside, trying to make out which one his car is parked at.
“Oh, uh, I don’t need gas.”
“No? So you just parked at a pump and wandered into the shop to kill some time then?”
He snorts, extending his hand. “I’m Alex.”
“Cool. You need smokes then? They’re bad for you, you know.”
He shakes his head, getting the memo there will be no hand shaking going on, and pulling his back to his body. “You like working here?”
I make a show of staring at where the stupid mess was I just had to clean up for somebody else, look around the rows of junk food and the awful fluorescent mood lighting, and then give him my best, brightest smile. “Gee, it’s fantastic! Dreamlike!”
“I don’t mean to overstep—"
“Good, then don’t.”
He cracks a half-smile, then leans forward on the counter, folding his hands inches away from me. “My sister owns a company and she’s looking for girls. You’d be perfect.”
He pulls a business card out of a fancy leather wallet and slides it over to me. While reading the words engraved on it, my eyebrows climb so damn high on my forehead that I’m worried they might fall off my face. “Pretty Little Miss Maids? Oh my god, your job offer is to clean naked for strangers? Yeah, no thanks. I’m good here.”
I try to slide the card back, but his hand stops me, covering mine up. He’s warm and his hands have just a bit of callus to them, but that’s not what has my heart racing.
It’s the fact that what I ignored before when he helped me up is a bit harder to ignore when I’m staring into gray eyes and tan skin and holy fuck…fuck fate, that fickle bitch.
Did I mention wolves have fated mates?
His eyes blow out, pupils overtaking the pretty gray color, and his breath deepens. “Interesting.”
