Chapter One
1024 Words
“Come on!” the woman shouted, clearly frustrated.
Not that Lyra could blame her. She really couldn’t since the woman had probably spent the last three hours waiting in line just to get told that she wasn’t getting in.
Nick, the six and a half foot tall bouncer and member of the Zaymond Pack, gave a small barely noticeable shake of his head. That one move was the only thing that proved that he wasn’t a statue. He wasn’t big on sudden movements, but cross him or try getting past him into the Luna club, the hottest dance club for shifters and humans in Boston, without his permission and you’d be lucky if you remembered your own name in the morning, that and how to walk.
“Do you know who I am?” the woman suddenly demanded, probably deciding that she needed to change her tactics from pathetic pleading to outright b***h if she had any chance of getting inside the club. Nick gave her a tired sigh and a small jerk of the chin, gesturing for her to step aside.
“It’s freezing out here,” Margaret complained once again as they watched the scene unfold safely from across the street.
“Well, you wouldn’t be freezing if you’d hurry up,” Lyra pointed out as Margeret bent over to fix the straps on the pair of hooker-red high heels that she’d finally decided on over an hour ago. Margeret's response of course was to stick her tongue out at her even as lyra shot her a wink and a smile.
Lyra wasn’t really in that much of a rush. Thanks to her shifter blood she was actually rather toasty right now. The fact that she could wear a cute little black cocktail dress that ended just above her knees and black high heels two days after a major snow storm was a definite plus. She hated trying to coordinate a coat with her outfit and then have to worry about paying for coat check and not losing that damn claim ticket. It was way too much hassle for a girl’s night out.
She adjusted the two casserole dishes that she was holding so that she wouldn’t get anything on her dress as she waited for her good friend, maybe acquaintance was a better term, of two years to finish fixing the small clasp on her shoes. Once Margrete was done, Lyra unceremoniously handed her back the dish that held the homemade apple crisp and started across the street. Margeret took the casserole with a grunt and a frown.
“I still can’t believe that you think bringing dinner to a bouncer will get us in any quicker,” Marg grumbled, clearly still not seeing the brilliance of this plan.
Lyra sighed. Humans.
They really didn’t know how this world really worked.
As much as Lyra would love to explain to her friend the rules about shifters, she couldn’t.
It would put Margie at risk. Not to mention that Lyra didn’t feel like taking two days off from work, so that she could heal, after the nearby Packs punished her with a good old fashioned ass whooping.
Especially since she’d just earned a killer promotion at work, hence the need for the girl’s night out.
“Trust me,” Lyra said as she headed across the street. She didn’t even bother with the line. She already knew that she was getting in.
The annoying woman was still trying to get in, but this time by offering Nick a bribe of fifty dollars while he simply forgot that she even existed, and nodded to the pair of shifters behind her to enter.
Lyra ignored them as she looked at Nick. She raised the glass lid off the chicken and rice casserole that she’d brought with her and waited for it.
It didn’t take long before Nick was c*****g his head to the side and focusing on her. His nostrils flared as his eyes zeroed in on the large casserole dish in her hands. Lyra was barely three feet away from him when two large hands shot out and relieved her of the heavy casserole dish.
Nick brought the dish up to his face and inhaled deeply with a look of utter rapture on his face. He being a man of few words kept his questions simple.
“Cora?”
Lyra smiled at her cousin as he replaced the cover on the casserole almost reverently.
The large man was madly in love with only two things in this world.
Number one was his barely five foot tall mate, Cora.
Second, was food and his absolute favorite food was his mate’s cooking.
Not that Lyra could blame him. Before she’d come here tonight she’d had three helpings of that very delicious casserole and had another two helpings waiting for her in her apartment when she was ready to call it a night.
“Yes, and,” lyra said as she reached for the casserole dish that Margeret held and barely managed to turn around before Nick swiped it from her hands, “apple crisp.”
Nick looked down at the dish and she could swear that he’d just whimpered. “Ice cream?” he mumbled, he asked sounding hopeful.
Did his lip just tremble? Ah, wolves and their food.
She placed a comforting hand on his arm only because he was a mated male.
She didn’t have to fear getting a lovely little surprise that would just totally wreck her night and of course he was her cousin so the last part didn’t even matter because seriously, ew.
“The ice cream would have melted,” she pointed out as gently as she could.
He looked as though he was about to argue that point so she pulled out the small can of whip cream from her equally small purse and placed it in the pocket of his leather jacket.
That seemed to please him, somewhat.
She also knew that he was waiting to hear a little reassurance to help him get through the rest of his shift so she gave it to him.
- Writer
