Chapter Ten

Jamie

“Is there a place I can put my bags?” The man with an armful of bracelets and one of those expensive smart watches on his wrist barked out as though one of us was the concierge at his beck and call.

“Of course.” Franklin didn’t miss a beat. “I take it your trip wasn’t pleasant?”

The man, gorgeous with the exception of his attitude, smirked, never sparing me a glance. “That would be the understatement of my life.” His dark hair was longer on top and shaved on the sides. A typical fade cut. His button-down shirt was a bit wrinkled in the back, I noticed, as he turned. Probably from a plane trip plus the car ride from the airport. The rims of his ears were blazing red and not for the reason I would’ve liked.

He held onto two leather bags that looked like they cost more than what I made in a month. A few different-style earrings pierced his ears at odd places. One right through the middle of his ear.

“Would you like me to bring your bags to your room so you can eat?” Franklin asked. “We have a feast here.”

The alpha, from the scent of him, wafted toward me. Usually alphas smelled like the woods. Oak and cypress, along with grass and sun. Not this one. He was bourbon and cigar smoke, making me wish he’d wrap that smoky drunk scent all around me—let me drown in it.

While he considered Franklin’s question, he finally met my gaze. He dropped his bags on the floor and stepped one foot back. For a split second, I thought the tall and slender man might make a run for it. My wolf picked up a tinge of sour and metallic fear. Fear? He was scared of little old me with my half-eaten dessert in front of me?

There was something else going on.

He scanned the offerings of the table. After a long day, the food must’ve called to him, but he ground his jaw and turned back to Franklin. “Would it be okay if I went upstairs and took a quick nap? I would fall asleep right at the table.”

Franklin clapped the guy on the shoulder. “Of course, Eddie.” Eddie. Huh. The only Eddie I knew was the late Eddie Van Halen. Still, he did give that rock-star vibe.

I would bet he could be rebellious when he wanted to.

“Should we keep the food out until you come back down?” I asked, taking the liberty. Franklin and I had become fast friends and, I felt comfortable around him and in this place.

“Yeah. I’ll…eat later. Can we please go now?”

With that, the man stomped up the stairs after Franklin, nailing me with one last look before he disappeared from the room. He had two bags, but even one of them was double the size of mine.

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. Franklin had a legendary matchmaker reputation among shifters, but this time, he might’ve been dead wrong. The man that stumbled into this place was civil at best and rode the line between nonchalant and rude.

One more sentence, and he probably would’ve tumbled right over that line into the land of downright jerk.

“What’s his deal?” I asked Franklin when he sat down.

“Well, that’s going to be cold.” The owner frowned at his coffee mug. “He’s had a long trip and a longer day. Seems that traveling doesn’t agree with him.”

I sighed. “Still, that’s no reason to take it out on others.” Despite my ice cream making a puddle on top of and around my cobbler, I ate the rest. It was too damned delicious to waste. I needed this trip away. I was in a gorgeous home with a friendly host and, from what I could see earlier, I could lose myself in the land surrounding this place. A walk with no destination in mind sounded like a fantastic idea.

Franklin nodded. “People deal with things in different ways. Perhaps what’s rude for us isn’t for him. The last thing we want to do in this life is to hold others accountable for the rules we have for ourselves. Not fair to them or us, and it makes us…irritated.”

Irritated. Exactly the right word.

Mentally, I cursed. This was the man Franklin thought was my mate?

Sure, my wolf was curious, but there was no world-turning, stomach-flopping, tornado-inside-me reaction that I thought my beast would have.

“I suppose we all have bad days,” I concurred.

“It’s true.”

“We’ll leave a small spread for my new guest. Are you as good at putting things away as you are a sous chef?” Franklin paused, grinning. “You’re not one of those males who stuffs entire slow cookers and pots into the refrigerator, are you?”

I snorted. “No. I can find the ketchup and everything.”

Franklin let out a hearty laugh, throwing back his head. “Good man, Jamie. Good man.”