Mating Dance Page 4

  He didn’t speak, just calmly put his seat belt back on and steered the car onto the path. She regretted the words almost as soon as she said them. They were those of the sad, rejected girl not the woman she was now. Unfortunately, since her wolf had fixated on him so young, she had little-to-no experience with relationships. No one else had piqued her interest, and she had withdrawn further from the pack when Gramma had passed, not long after Marjorie and Stefan fled Los Lobos with their family.

  The last few miles jolted past in a cloud of disappointment and regret, but she had neither the courage nor the experience to reach across the divide she’d created. The atmosphere was stifling, and she sighed with relief when the truck pulled up outside The Den. There were a couple of other cars parked outside, and Rory made sure to unclip her belt this time before she leapt from the cab. Her dash for the door of the bar was in vain, however. Sander’s long legs ate up the ground behind her, and she found herself once again pinned between his body and a door.

  His big hand lifted the hair from her nape and warm, surprisingly soft lips brushed the lightest of kisses against her sensitive skin. Goose bumps prickled all over her body as he growled in her ear. “I’ll only let you push me away for so long, honey, and then there will be a reckoning between us.” Threat or promise, she wasn’t sure, the shudder racing through her not caused by fear alone.

  As though the intimate moment had never happened, he stepped back and pulled the door open. Smiling broadly, he gestured for her to enter the bar. Keeping her eyes downcast, she shot past him, drawing a relieved breath when she saw several people hovering around a couple of tables which had been dragged together in the center of the room.

  The voices of the matrons rose, drawing her attention to the hapless young man who was the current source of their consternation. Paul’s body language was defensive as he alternately nodded, shook his head, and shrugged in response to their barrage of questions. Transformed by his recent mating, the barman no longer cowered in fear but still looked uncomfortable. His ability to communicate in sign language had come to light, and several members of the pack were taking lessons in ASL. His hands were hampered by a tray filled with glasses and soft drinks, ruling out any chance of proper communication. Feeling sorry for the omega and keen for an excuse to put some distance between herself and Sander, she hurried over to the bar.

  Nudging between Miss Fern and Miss Claire, she caught Paul’s eye. He gave Rory a sweetly grateful smile as she relieved him of the burden. Swinging around, she used the tray to nudge the ladies back, creating enough space for Paul to make a break for the kitchen. Sensing the four women bearing down on her as she moved toward the table, she quickened her steps. Grimacing at Sander, she rolled her eyes, indicating she needed his assistance with the unwanted entourage. He smirked at her exaggerated expressions. Folding his arms over his broad chest, he remained lounging in the chair he occupied. Buster!

  She snarled silently, banging the tray onto the table before turning on the spot to face the music. Miss Fern, looking sassy in a powder-blue tracksuit accented with chunky turquoise accessories at her wrists and ears, gave her a beaming smile. She tucked her arm through Rory’s, steering her away from the table, chattering a mile a minute. “Aurora, darling. So very good of you to join us! I remembered what good friends you and Sander were, and you looked so disappointed at missing out on the committee. Bless his heart, he jumped at the chance to chauffeur you around.”

  Rory whipped her head around, glaring over her shoulder at Sander as the matron led her inexorably toward the door. He wiggled one finger at her in a mock wave before he paled as Miss Kathy plonked down in the seat next to him. Serves you right! Her attention returned to the door as a shaft of bright sunlight caused her to squint. Miss Claire held the door open with her back, both hands rummaging in the big pocket of her apron. The practical garment, hand sewn like most of her clothing, was a riot of orange and red poppies. The ever-present amber teardrop around her neck swung gently as she dug around, muttering to herself. She followed behind them, still digging as they headed toward Miss Fern’s old, but impeccably kept, compact. The apron pocket clearly occupied a different dimensional space. Various items were withdrawn and tucked back in, until, with a crow of triumph, Miss Claire brandished a wide-toothed comb and a length of ribbon.

  Trapped against the side of the car, Rory had no choice but to take the plastic-wrapped tray of cakes and sweets handed to her by Miss Fern. Miss Claire advanced with the comb, dragging it through the tangled bangs covering Rory’s forehead, making her squeal in protest. A sharp tug at the back of her head had her trying to turn toward the new source of torture.

  “Oh, hush yourself,” Miss Claire admonished, tying the ribbon around Rory’s head. The bright-blue ribbon pulled her hair away from her face. Miss Fern gave the back a few more hard brushes, bringing tears to Rory’s eyes. She patted Rory on the cheek, nodding with satisfaction. “Much better, dear. You have such beautiful eyes, but how would anyone notice them hidden under all this hair?”

  “I don’t want anyone to notice my eyes, Miss Claire. Nor any other part of me, for that matter.” She growled. They wore matching grins, more like Cheshire cats than wolves. Brushing past them, she stomped back toward the bar. Her childish fit of pique gave way to practicality. She still had her hands full with the tray of sweets, forcing her to wait by the door for one of the women to open it. Miss Fern rubbed her arm, a surreptitious gesture of kindness as she ushered her back inside.

  Most of the places around the table were occupied as she placed the tray onto it and sidled around to the empty chair next to Paul. The omega gifted her another of his sweet smiles, jotting a quick note on the notepad he held. Thank you.

  Lowering her voice to sub-vocal, she whispered back, “You’re welcome. Always safety in numbers.” A snicker came from the other side of Paul. Sander rested his forearms on the table. Everything in his body language indicated he gave all his attention to Miss Lonnie, who still huffed and complained, but his head cocked just enough she could tell he’d heard her comment.

  Miss Kathy drained her glass of soda, banging it down like a gavel as she let rip a belch of such magnitude it must have been dragged up from her boots. “What?” she snapped at the gawking group before turning her attention toward Lonnie. “Put a damn sock in it. So your favorite cuddly bear isn’t around, so what?”

  Lonnie bristled and tutted at her friend’s uncouth behavior. “Gee should be here,” she grumbled, not willing to let her point go. Her eyes fixed once again on Paul, and he smiled weakly, holding up the pad and pen before hunching over it to show he was ready to take notes. With a sniff and one final tut, Miss Lonnie started the meeting, describing their aims for the party.

  Rory leaned closer to Paul, half an ear on the matrons as they talked over each other. “Where’s Gee?” she whispered, aware Sander shifted closer on Paul’s other side.

  He arranged a meeting with Drew. Said there was no point being here when he knows they’ll get exactly what they want.

  Rory stifled a grin as she pictured the big bear grumbling about being railroaded by the matrons. A sharp cough drew her eyes as Sander tried to cover a bark of laughter. Paul smiled silently between them as he made another note.

  Besides, he’s scared half to death of Miss Lonnie. She pays him a lot of attention whenever she comes to the bar. Something about Gee asking her on a date when they were young.

  Eyes as round as saucers over the juicy tidbit, Rory risked another glance at Sander. His hand rested companionably on the young omega’s shoulder, a huge grin transforming him from handsome to downright gorgeous. He looked so light and carefree, the years rolled back before her. Gone were the shadows and lines of the past thirty-five years. Here was her Sander—brash, fun loving, and generous with his time. Offering friendship to all members of the pack regardless of their dominance.

  Thrum, thrum, thrum. Her pulse throbbed in her ears as she studied the man she had loved for most
all of her life. His grin softened, the humor melting to a stronger, richer emotion. Paul tapped his pen softly on his pad. Sliding lower in his seat, he surreptitiously tried to escape his unexpected position of third wheel.

  “Aurora? Aurora Jane!” Miss Lonnie rapped her knuckles on the table, startling Rory from her reverie.

  “I’m sorry?” She turned toward the elder, the stars in her eyes shattering when she realized everyone around the table stared at her.

  “We were talking about the decorations, dear,” Miss Fern interjected gently. “Lonnie wanted to know if you had any thoughts on the design, a theme perhaps?”

  Theme? Seriously? As of an hour ago, Rory had been ensconced in her nice, peaceful little cabin, believing she had successfully ducked the committee, and now they expected her to have a theme? “Umm, theme, theme, theme.” She rubbed her damp palms on her jean-clad thighs, desperate to gather her scattered wits. “I thought I would open it up to suggestions. Do a little canvassing around town, see what the consensus is. Also, umm, until I have the dimensions of the hall, it’s hard to know what I’m working with, how big it is.” With a concerted effort, she forced her mouth shut against the stream of inanity.

  “I’m sure that’s something Sander can help you with, dear,” Miss Lonnie said with a wicked smile as she turned her attention to the dark-haired wolf. “You’ll be happy to show Aurora how big it is, won’t you, Sander?” Turning in his seat, Sander took his sweet time as he studied her. His slow, lazy regard sent such a rush of blood to her cheeks, it made Rory light-headed.

  “Miss Lonnie, I can’t think of anything I’d like to do more,” he drawled.

  Hunkering down in her seat, Rory prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. With a soft sigh, Paul reached beneath the table and gave the back of her hand a sympathetic pat.

  It didn’t help. Nothing would help ever again.

  Chapter Five

  The conversation he had planned with Rory on the drive home didn’t happen. She’d left the table at the end of the meeting and headed on back toward the bathrooms. Impatience got the better of him after ten minutes of hanging around, and he asked Paul to check on her. When the young omega returned with a neatly folded bundle of clothes in his hands, he knew the time had come to admit defeat. Rory had shifted and run. Disappointing, as he’d planned on a few kisses playing an integral role in the conversation. It would keep. For now.

  Her clothing still sat on the passenger seat of his truck a week later. A lingering scent of cranberries and vanilla perfumed the cab, simultaneously soothing and rousing his wolf. The beast pressed hard for the hunt, and the man was close to breaking, but the pack seemed determined to put obstacles in his way. Sander had persuaded his brother to loan him a spare copy of the blueprints for the hall. He’d been trying to find time to pay Rory a visit and court her where there was no chance of interruption, no matter how well intentioned.

  The matchmaking efforts of the matrons hadn’t escaped his attention. They probably thought they were being clever in creating scenarios to push him and Rory together, and he had no complaints. As long as it didn’t cause too many problems. Miss Lonnie was as subtle as a sledgehammer with her outrageous comments. Miss Claire’s and Miss Fern’s mini makeover had amused him as much as it irritated Rory. They didn’t understand he was already sold on her just the way she was. He liked the edge of wildness about her, the independent streak she’d had to develop, living so isolated from the pack.

  Drew had summoned him the day after the committee meeting to outline the role he wanted Sander to undertake within the pack. The request was bittersweet. Although it spoke to the deeply protective nature of Sander’s wolf, it also served to remind him how badly he’d failed the last teen he’d tried to help. He also risked using his attraction to Rory as a way to avoid dealing with the recent past. It didn’t invalidate his feelings for her, but he’d never been a coward. He needed to be the best possible version of himself he could muster to be worthy of his quarry. His desire for her would just have to wait, hence his wolf’s restlessness.

  Some of the older teens in the pack were gaining a reputation for unruly behavior. There had been some unpleasant instances of bullying, with groups of young men preying on those they deemed weaker or vulnerable. Although an understandable consequence of the turmoil within the pack, the time had come to stamp-out to such behavior. They’d been witness to too much cruelty when only children and were struggling to adjust to the changes Drew demanded of them. Ryker had too much on his plate already, protecting the pack. Add in his mate’s pregnancy and he had little time and no tolerance for the escapades of a few young punks. His role as enforcer was often misunderstood. He’d been the ultimate bogeyman during Magnum’s reign, and having the pack fear him had been a tool to distance himself from others. When the binding ties of a blood oath could force you to kill another at a madman’s whim, it proved almost impossible to forge relationships.

  Recent revelations had proven just how dedicated Ryker was to protecting the pack, even at the cost of his reputation. Many of those who’d disappeared were sent to safety, not killed as most had assumed. Ryker’s mate, Saja, had begun helping with the efforts to trace the lost members of the pack and they were drifting home. Fear of the Enforcer was slowly turning to respect.

  Drew had decreed Sander’s experience made him the ideal candidate to run herd on the wayward youth. He’d asked him to design a program of activities and training which would instill discipline and a sense of responsibility, as well as helping the youngsters find a productive place among the pack. Sander knew from experience boredom and lack of attention were fertile breeding grounds for mischief, and his first suggestion had been greeted with enthusiasm by the alpha. It would require some alteration to the plans for the hall complex, nothing too major, but a couple of proposed meeting rooms would be sacrificed to create a youth club for the older teens and young adults in transition. Sander planned to make them responsible for the furnishing and decoration of the facility. He’d agreed on a budget with Drew, but the kids would have to decide between them what equipment they wanted. Having a safe place for them was the priority as well as giving them a sense of control over their environment.

  He’d discussed the plan with his brother over dinner the previous night and been surprised, but delighted when Ven had volunteered to help him with the group. His niece’s mate could be a prickly bastard until you got to know him. Ven had suffered terrible abuse as a young boy and his surly exterior provided a barrier against further hurts. Through the tender love of his mate, he had learned to shed the resentment and bitterness of his broken childhood. He would make a great role model for the boys, someone not too far removed from their age who wouldn’t take any shit. Stefan and Marjorie had offered suggestions of others who might be interested in helping out with talks and mentoring. They’d also discussed suitable work placements for those who showed an aptitude. Stefan had agreed to offer an apprenticeship with his construction firm, and Ven had offered shifts at the gas station as a way for the teens to earn a little money. With excitement for the project building, he was ready to make the next move.

  Knocking on the door of the schoolhouse, he was greeted with a bright smile from Adrie Scarlett, the head teacher. She had a tough job providing a suitable education program covering the spectrum of ages, particularly in such a small environment, and he admired her efforts. When he’d spoken to her a couple of days before, there had been a hint of relief in her voice. Student numbers were growing, and it would take some pressure off to have him bear some of the responsibility for the older children.

  “Mr. Burrows, it’s nice to finally meet you. Jessie has told us so much about you.” The petite brown-haired woman smiled with real warmth as she ushered him in through the door.

  “Sander, please.”

  “Sander, then, but you must call me Adrie. I can’t tell you how excited I am about the potential for the program. My mate, Ravage, runs the gym in town
and he’s volunteered a couple of free training sessions a week if it would fit in with your plans?”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “That would be fantastic. If it’s going to work, it needs to be a pack-wide effort. We have to demonstrate how much we value this generation. Giving them secure role models is vital, and in as many different environments as possible. The dominants need a positive outlet for their aggression, but I also want to make space in the program for the others. A healthy pack needs artists as much as it needs protectors.” He took a breath and laughed. “Sorry, my head is so full of ideas, I’m at risk of steamrolling everyone I meet!”

  “Not at all! We’ve had some great success with our gardening program with all the children. Caress has done a wonderful job with it. She’s been working closely with the teens so I’m sure she will have some valuable input.” Adrie led him to the section of the schoolhouse partitioned off for the older children. The chatter died down as she entered and addressed the class. “This is Sander Burrows. He’s rejoined the pack and will be running a new youth program here in Los Lobos. Please give him your full attention.” A light pat in his arm and she was gone, leaving him facing a variety of expressions from openly interested to downright hostile.

  Time to do my thing.

  The discussion with the teens went better than expected, the girls generally more willing to put forward ideas than the boys. He made a mental note of who hadn’t spoken as they would be his priority for one-to-one chats to ensure everyone’s voice was heard. A young man at the back of the room had spent more time staring out of the window than anything. A study in boredom. Sander was pretty certain he had heard every word though.

  He’d been the first to leave the room, and Sander had kept an eye on his direction. After speaking to everyone who stayed behind and fixing a time to review the plans for the club, he strolled around the back of the schoolhouse. His wolf perked up at the sight of a familiar, and thoroughly delicious, ass sticking up in the air as two women bent over one of the planting areas. Running into Rory was an unexpected pleasure, but he resisted his wolf’s urging to pounce, drifting instead toward the teen who sat apart, partially hidden between the trees.