Chapter Three

Tobias

How could this possibly happen? Upon examination, I noticed what I should have before leaving the restaurant. The thermal bag had not been zipped. Of course. The delivery person usually checked the order against the food inside to make sure they had everything. It was a rule I put in place after a couple of goofs. Not that the cooks erred, but the delivery riders grabbed the wrong bags and took them to the wrong people.

So, I had no one to blame but myself for having not checked and then closed the bag. I'd been in too much of a hurry to meet this man to follow procedures. What a great example I'd been for my staff. And as to gaining a new customer—or not losing one if he had enjoyed our food before?

Incredible job, Tobias.

As my brain stopped yelling at me, I became aware of the fact that his hand was firmly in the middle of my chest, keeping me upright despite the mess I'd made of him from the top of his head to the tips of his bare feet. His black T-shirt was coated with hummus and chicken grease along with colorful spices on his gray pajama pants. His feet might have been sexy if they weren't coated with lettuce and feta dressing.

I wanted to die.

Or at the very least crawl into the darkness under the porch and hide until he went back inside. His hand burned into my chest as if there was no fabric between his skin and mine, and I felt the loss when he removed it to brush at the food clinging to his clothes. "That's personal service," he rumbled in that voice…who knew jackals could sound like that? "You okay now?"

Not really. "I-I'm not going to fall over, and have no more food to throw at you. I'm so incredibly sorry. This is not how we do business."

He chuckled. "Somehow I didn't think so. Everything smells good. Next time, just leave it in the containers, okay?"

My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. How could he stand there looking so completely in control when I'd been so incredibly unprofessional. "It was totally my fault." As if it was possibly anyone else's. "I forgot to close the bag. It has this zipper, you see?" I held up the empty thermal, showing him. "And if I had closed it, then when I tripped like a total klutz, you wouldn't have been all covered with food." He knows that! Or at least he could figure it out. "I'll get your clothes cleaned if you want to take them off, I can take them with me…oh goddess! I didn't mean it that way."

The man, Leon, stayed calm even through that insane tirade, but his eyes widened slightly, and he probably wanted to step back inside his house and lock the door.

But my mouth was running miles ahead of my brain. "You know I didn't mean that, right? About taking off your clothes. Not about cleaning them. I'd be happy to pay for the cleaning and I seem to have damaged your porch, somehow." I had no idea how, but one of the boards was out of place or broken. "I don't have a lot of money, but can I offer you free food for life? Or as long as the restaurant is open. If I keep throwing food on people, it may not be long. I'll write you a check. Wait…" I didn't have any checks on me. I didn't even have a personal checkbook, just the big one for the occasional company expense that couldn't be paid any other way.

He smiled at me and a dimple bit into his cheek. Leon was older than me, but I'd always found that to be a good quality. Just not…this much.

My bear was awake inside me, had been since the phone call, and he was growling at me. That was new. Maybe he was unhappy I'd made the mess, but he didn't usually have any interest in business sorts of things. No, what he was interested in was the man in front of us. And in a big way.

I rambled on for a while longer, making a bigger fool of myself by the moment until finally the man pulled his shirt over his head and set it inside the door. "Okay? Better?"

I know he meant about the mess, but when I said, "So much better," that wasn't what meant. His light dusting of chest hair was mostly dark but with a few strands of white, emphasizing the muscles and flat belly underneath. He did not have a young body but one of a mature shifter whose trim waist had suffered little over the decades.

His smile showed that he didn't miss my ogling, but all he said was, "You can make it up to me by having dinner together one night."

And did I say yes, as my bear insisted? As I really wanted to?

No…I turned and ran.