Page 22 of Love That Sass

He thought having a human mate might fuck things up for the Pack, and he wasn’t having that with his own mate being ready to drop her pup any day now.

It wasn’t fair. But again, what could he do about it? Weylin just wanted the same opportunity to have his own happily ever after ending that Derrick and several of the other Dire Wolves in their former MC had found. Was that so wrong?

“One part vodka, then add fresh lemon juice,” she murmured, probably thinking she was speaking too low for him to hear.

If he was human, that might have been true. But he wasn’t.

And therein lies the rub, he mused, with an expression of distaste on his face.

Still, it was cute the way she recited each recipe as she worked, even if she presumed it was to herself. Gwendolyn was going over a list of signature cocktails featured at Serious Moonlight that Sheila had given her when Weylin walked into the bar.

Technically, he was not supposed to work today, but he’d asked Derrick to switch his schedule, so he had every shift she had. It was the least his Alpha could do. Lucy had supported his request, for which she had his eternal gratitude. The Alpha fem was a hopeless romantic, and she’d argued that Gwen could hardly fall for Weylin on her own without being near him.

Smart lady.

Three days had passed, and so far, nothing. That meant Weylin had seventy-two hours of staying within her periphery. It damn near killed him being so close, and yet so far. Sure, Derrick took pity on him, giving him the same schedule just to get him out of his hair.

But that wasn’t enough to get the sexy as all get female to look his way. Weylin stifled a yawn. He was running himself ragged following her home and standing guard outside her door in his Wolf form every night.

What else could he do? That place was a hellhole frequented by all types of unsavory folks. Humans were bad enough, but he scented one or two supes in the area, and that did not sit well with him at all. He wished he could just take her home with him to the Pack House, but that was a no-no.

Even if Derrick allowed it, Gwen wasn’t anywhere near ready for him to reveal the truth about himself, let alone what she was to him.

“You got this,” Sheila said.

Gwendolyn nodded and lifted the cocktail shaker, mobbing it back and forth at ear level. She was in the process of prepping one of every cocktail. Something all new bartenders had to do before they could pass muster.

He was pleasantly surprised watching her work. She had real potential. There was music pumping through the speakers, country western tonight, and there was already a pretty nice early dinner crowd. Some dudes were seated at the bar drinking beers, and a group of older women were having martinis and sharing a tapas tower. But none of it seemed to mess with Gwen’s concentration.

Weylin had been keeping a close eye on her, and for a religious woman, she was not easily shaken. Thank fuck. When she’d told him that about herself, he thought maybe he had misheard. Why on earth would the Fates match a rounder like him with an angel like her?

Someone messed up, or maybe Derrick was right, and he got it all wrong. But nope. Weylin spent the last few days trailing her on two legs and four and he was more certain than ever. Gwendolyn Hoffer was supposed to be his.

“Weylin, can you take over? I’m going out for a bit with Leo to check our venue,” Sheila called, breaking his train of thought.

He blinked, gaze shooting right over to where Gwen was pouring her next drink. She didn’t even bother to glance at him. Shit. What was wrong with him? Did she find him unattractive? Too burly? Maybe she just didn’t go for redheads.

Sad and dejected, he walked over to where the two females worked, staying on the opposite side of the bar. He just didn’t trust himself to be any closer to her than that.

“Yep, I got it,” he replied softly.

He sat down on a barstool and watching Gwen with a steady gaze. She glanced at him. Barely. It might have been a trick of the light. But he thought he saw her brown eyes widen for a moment. His Dire Wolf hummed with approval. Maybe she was aware of him on some level, at least. Even if she’d been doing her best to act like the other day hadn’t happened.

He'd practically spent the entire day with her. After a friend of the Pack set him up with an established U-drive account, it was nothing at all to wait for her to order a car. He’d been surprised at the destination, but it did not matter. He would’ve driven her to Timbuktu if that was where she wanted to go.

She didn’t know it, of course, but the feisty female was safe as could be with him. The fact she seemed to relax in his presence after some initial awkwardness warmed the beast within him. She hadn’t expected more from him than a ride, but when he walked her inside and voiced his intentions to stay with her, she seemed grateful.

Poor thing, having to go through all that alone. He didn’t know how she did it. Being born in a Pack meant you had people with you to back you up, bolster you, and offer support whether you wanted it or not. It was a choice sure, but Gwendolyn did not have that option.

Now she does. We’ll be her Pack,his Wolf inserted.

His mind kept wandering back to that day, and he wondered what he’d done wrong to make her keep her distance ever since. Maybe Weylin had been too much, forcing his company on her by waiting in the hallway while Gwendolyn went inside Pop’s room. Or perhaps, he hadn’t done enough. The not knowing was eating at him, and the Wolf was getting antsy.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, he couldn’t help but overhear the doctor’s prognosis. It was not good, but the older man was comfortable at least. No pain, that was what she’d begged, and Weylin’s Wolf had raged at that.

“Well?”Gwen’s soft voice asked the doctor, and Weylin heard the plea behind her words.

“No change, Ms. Hoffer. He is comfortable for now, but the most recent scan showed a series of minor strokes. It is highly unlikely Mr. Hoffer will get out of bed again. I am very sorry,”the doctor stated.

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