Page 14 of Love That Sass

His blood heated looking at the woman, and the clear understanding dawned on him she could mean the same thing to him. Mates were revered in Shifter culture, Dire Wolves especially since theirs was such a long lifetime.

Mine,his Wolf growled.

Chapter5

Fuck. Shit. It is her.

Gwendolyn Hoffer was his fated mate.

Well, she could be someday. It was her choice, of course, but it was too soon to broach that subject. Still, the words felt right. This was too new and Weylin wasn’t quite there yet. But he would be. Hell, he could see it approaching fast.

Gwendolyn Hoffer was important to him. Really important. His entire future was in her hands. Swallowing down his fear and nervousness, he nodded towards the pile of papers on Derrick’s desk and grabbed them. Weylin stood, scrounged for a pen. He handed the whole bundle to her, shivering when their fingers touched, and little shocks of lightning zipped through him.

“Um, well, here are some forms you’ll need to fill out. But you can do that at home and bring them in when you start.”

“When’s that?” she asked and seemed anxious.

Hmm. Why did she want to start so soon? He was curious. Weylin couldn’t help it, but Weylin wouldn’t hound her for answers. He’d overheard her mention financial obligations to her grandfather or something like that, but he’d stopped listening as soon as she started talking about her ex-boyfriend.

His Wolf hadn’t liked that bit at all. Double standard? Maybe. But he wasn’t a saint, he was a Dire Wolf and a possessive one at that. Still, it wouldn’t be right to steal her story by eavesdropping, so he’d gone in search of Derrick.

Of course, Weylin hoped, in time, she would confide in him. Maybe even lean on him for support. Yeah, he would like that. For her to trust him, to think of him as more than some shmuck who’d accosted her in a bar.

Shiiitt.

“Um, how about you start tomorrow, Gwendolyn?” he asked, liking the way her name rolled off his lips.

She looked around the hallway as he led her back to the bar. All traces of the bachelorette party were gone, but Sundays were still good bar days. Gwen’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as Patricia Golden arrived and jumped on the stage, where bands usually set up, leading a horrific rendition of the macarena.

“Wow. I mean, it’s only three o’clock in the afternoon,” Gwen murmured.

“Yeah, well, some folks start early, but uh, Patricia there is like family,” he tried, then gave up when the first scarf came off the older woman’s neck.

“Oh, I see, well, I am not judging. It’s nice to see a woman having fun,” Gwen replied, surprising him.

“Yeah, uh, oh damn, excuse me one moment, I have to stop her before she takes any more clothes off,” he murmured.

“Ha!”

Gwen covered her gaping mouth with her hand. Weylin wished he could watch her some more, but he had to fix this first. He shrugged apologetically and ran past her to the stage where he hoisted the older female Lioness off the thing before she could do more than shimmy out of one bra strap beneath her blouse, thank fuck. Really, it was way too early for the Lioness’ shenanigans, but maybe she was still in party mode from the night before.

“Give her here!” shouted a loud male, and Weylin willingly handed the woman over to her mate.

“Yes sir,” Weylin replied automatically.

King Donovan looked pissed as hell, but he nodded his thanks. Then, he tossed his errant bride over his shoulder, smacked her on the rump, and chuckled loudly as he hightailed it out of the bar, whispering something about a stripper poll and her repeating that little dance in private.

Whatever. It was just way more info than Weylin ever wanted to hear, especially about those two. Shit. Now, where did his mate go? He jumped when she appeared before him, offering a bottle of cold water in her extended hand. Weylin took it, thanking her automatically.

“Wow. I guess stuff like that really does happen all the time in this place,” Gwen murmured, worrying the chain around her neck as she sipped from her own bottle.

Weylin glanced down and saw it was a gold chain with a tiny diamond cross she held between her fingers. Pretty. He wondered where she got it. Damn, he was on fire with wanting to know more about her.

“You’re staring.”

“Sorry. Um, I like your necklace. That a cross?”

“Um, yeah. I got it for my Confirmation.”

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