Shift Work (Carus #4) (27 page)

Yeesh!

I slapped my palm against my forehead. Repeatedly. Wick’s thoughts on this matter were irrelevant. And who he was with didn’t change anything. I’d made my choice and whatever was going on right now was between me and Tristan. I had to wipe thoughts of Wick completely away.
Wick was then. Tristan is now.

Andy, you’re killing me.
Tristan’s voice filled my head. Usually deep and smooth he sounded rougher, more gravelly.
Are you coming in?

“Yes.” I spoke to the door.
Yes.

The door swung open and a disheveled angel in baggy sweats stood before me. A plain white shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and fit body. My first instinct was to run my hands up his six-pack, tracing each defined muscle before resting on his strong pecs. His citrus and sunshine scent laced around me, the honeysuckles of his leopard teased my mountain lion and beckoned for her to come play. My pulse picked up and warmth flushed my body. Uncharacteristic stubble darkened Tristan’s face and accentuated his piercing blue eyes. I wanted to drown in their pools of sadness.

“I’ve missed you.” His jaw clenched and yellow flashed in his eyes. His Alpha power rode him hard not to play docile or patient with me. His fists clenched, yet he remained immobile, waiting for me to say something, do something.

His strength over his animal still impressed me.

“I need your help,” I said.

He rocked back on his heels, and his lips flattened. “Andy—”

I held my hand out to stop his protest.

He growled.

“I know it’s a dick move to ask something of you when I asked for time, but I really do need your help. It’s not for me.”

“Stan?”

“Yeah.”

Tristan sighed and then stepped aside. “Of course, I’ll help you. Come in.”

In the living room, I quickly outlined the story and what I needed. Tristan simply nodded and led me to his bedroom.

“Um…” I looked around. For the first time, Tristan’s house was completely void of pride members and various items lay strewn across the place giving the whole home a messy appearance. Not that I cared. I was in no position to judge housekeeping skills. The only time my place looked spotless was when I procrastinated from getting other things done. Or I expected guests.

“I sent them all away,” Tristan muttered as he dug around in his drawers and pulled out clothes. “They’re taking vacations, visiting family, or staying somewhere else. A lot of the pride kept their places from the Ethan days. Sometimes even felines need a break from their prides. We’re a small group. The ones who work for me are staying in the rooms at the office.”

I nodded, not that he could see me. The majority of the pride lived at Tristan’s since Ethan’s death. The silence and emptiness of the place bore down on me like a lead blanket.

When Tristan threw the blue shirt I loved so much on the bed, he spun to face me. “I will find a way for you to forgive me.” His gaze drilled into mine.

I looked at my feet.

Coward
, my mountain lion hissed.
Not submissive
.

No, but not nearly as dominant as Tristan.

“I want to,” I muttered.

“What?”

“I want to forgive you. I want to get passed this, but…” Feradea help me! I sounded like a broken record. How many times would I push a good man away?

“You need time to process?” Tristan bit out. His tone was soft, but it carried an edge. As if he understood why, but didn’t like it. “I’ll give you whatever you need, Andy, but don’t push me away. Let me help you.”

“You are helping me.”

“Not just with Stan’s stuff. With everything. Let me be here for you.” He reached out and gently squeezed my shoulder, letting his hand slide down my arm until he held my hand.

“Where are we going?” I asked

Tristan raised his dark brow.

“You’re pulling clothes out of your dresser. You’re not the type to make up an excuse just to change in front of me.”

Tristan’s lips twitched into a smile for the first time since I arrived. His white teeth flashed as he released my hand.
Whoosh!
He shucked his sweatpants off, and his shirt followed to provide a world-class view. With a solid defined six-pack, my gaze naturally followed the indented V down to…

Perfection. A view that was all mine, if I claimed it, if I marked the soft skin of his fragrant neck during the throes of passion.

Mine
, the mountain lion hissed.

The falcon squawked.

“We’re going to my office,” Tristan said as he pulled the blue shirt on and stepped into dark denim jeans.

Going commando.
Feradea, help me.

Tristan had never taken me to the office, saying he didn’t like to mix business with pleasure. I understood. The SRD and VPD headquarters hardly made for good date destinations, but curiosity nipped away at my mountain lion and my mind, and I would’ve found some excuse sooner or later to visit Tristan at work and have a looksee.

Now, it seemed, an excuse wasn’t necessary. It was show and tell day at the office.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“It’s strange, isn’t it? You stand in the middle of a library and go ‘aaaaagghhhh’ and everyone just stares at you. But you do the same thing on an aeroplane, and everyone joins in.”

~Tommy Cooper

The simple-styled business building with reflective windows and four stories loomed over me as we approached. Kayne Security Solutions owned its name and offered a bevy of personal and business solutions for safety and security of people, information, possessions, and property. Electronic security systems, personal security detail, temporary guards—it provided everything for a pretty price. I searched it on the internet. Months ago.

No wonder Tristan drove the latest hybrid sports car, and ripped out of designer clothes with little thought. He did very well for himself.

The drive over had been quiet, but tense. Even with the windows cracked, Tristan’s delicious scent bottled up in the confined space. Part of me wanted to launch my body across the center console and lick him all over like a lollipop, and the other part of me drowned in self-loathing that I’d even consider jumping the man when I hadn’t figured out how I felt about our situation. If Tristan’s leather seats could’ve swallowed me whole, I would’ve gladly welcomed it.

Now, as we walked to the main doors, the man beside me vibrated with warmth and love. I wanted to reach out and touch him. But I didn’t. Why? Why did I hold back? For something he did in his past before he knew me? For having to serve a sadistic Master Vampire that made Lucien look like Bambi? For having the strength to be honest with me instead of trying to hide his shame? For some convoluted belief I should be angry and upset at him when all I wanted was…

“Penny for your thoughts.” Tristan held the glass doors of his company open for me.

“I’d really like to understand my brain someday.”

Tristan chuckled and followed me in. He reached down and clasped my hand. The contact of his skin sent tingles up my arm. I didn’t let go. I squeezed his hand back as we walked through the sparse lobby.

A long receptionist desk with an elevator to the right and a door, presumably the stairs, to the left sat on the opposite side of the lobby. Cameras tracked our progress along the dark slab tiles. The little motors purred as the machines moved along with us.

“Hello, Mr. Kayne,” a middle-aged receptionist with graying brown hair and kind eyes greeted us. Her gaze flicked to me briefly, before dropping to our joined hands. Her smile broadened.

“Hello, Suzy.” Tristan smiled back. “This is Andy.”

Suzy nodded and stood. Reaching over her desk, she offered her hand and I shook it. Chamomile tea swirled around in her nutty scent. Shifter, not Were. Feline, but not leopard, mountain lion, or bobcat. I couldn’t put my nose on it, but asking, “what are you?” would be rude.

“Ocelot,” she whispered with a wink.

I grinned and nodded, but my internal badass recoiled. I kept my happy-to-meet-you face plastered on, while my mind raced. How had she read me so easily? I’d kept my expression pleasantly neutral. Only Tristan still gauged my internal musings with ease. Since the tattoo shop receptionist, I’d made more effort to shutter my emotions from my expression. Had my face become an open book for others to read despite my best efforts? My feras bristled.

I searched the receptionist’s face, but she wore an open smile, and her kind eyes held no calculations.

No. She hadn’t read me at all. My own insecurities were bubbling up. Suzy probably got asked the “what are you” question all the time, and knowing I could tell she was something, decided to throw the truth out there.

Tristan pulled me toward the right. When we stepped into the freshly-scented elevator, Tristan called out to Suzy, “Hold any calls. I’m here on personal business.”

“Got it,” she replied. If she said anything else, the closing doors cut her off.

“Seems nice,” I said. A lot nicer than Angie. But why would Tristan choose an older, kinder receptionist over sexpot Angie with the good looks and killer body?

“Clients come here to feel safe. Suzy is open and honest. She puts everyone at ease. Angie has a lot of qualities, but that’s not one of them.”

I snorted. “I didn’t realize being a bitch was a quality.”

“Angie…she’s had it rough. When we were under Ethan’s control…” His mouth flattened into a straight line, and his muscles tensed. “I tried to protect her, and everyone else in my pride as much as possible, but she’s an attractive woman. Bad men took notice…”

I held my hand up. “I get it.” And I did. It made my heart soften a little toward Angie, and a lot toward Tristan. His sad gaze told me who he blamed for Angie’s suffering. I needed to lighten the mood.

“If she keeps pushing me, though, Tristan, you’re going to end up with a cat fight.”

Tristan’s lips twitched, and his gaze flicked to me before he leaned forward and pressed the button for the third floor.

The elevator jerked into motion.

“This place is bigger than I expected.”

“There’s a room behind the receptionist desk for training. The basement has parking, supplies, and artillery. Second floor is offices, meeting rooms, storage, et cetera. Third floor is where most of the grunt work is done. It houses the IT department, our security programs, and all our surveillance footage. Fourth floor is housing, where a number of us stay after long missions or during intense projects. It’s like a floor in a mini-apartment building.”

I nodded and acknowledged him, but my mind had travelled someplace else. The small elevator offered little in the way of air circulation. If the car had been bad, this was worse. Tristan’s scent accumulated into an overwhelming concentration. So potent, my head spun. Speaking was impossible. The citrus and sunshine melded with honeysuckles on a hot summer’s day. I wanted to wrap his scent around me like a blanket and roll around. I wanted to sip raspberry mojitos, and have sex on the beach. Have him plow—

“Andy?” Tristan turned toward me, his eyebrows pinched. He took a long drag of air and shuddered. His eyelids half-closed and a purr erupted from his chest.

Well, damn. Guess he knew where my mind went.

He leaned toward me. “I’ve thought about taking you in this elevator every day at work. Pinning you against the wall, with your long legs wrapped around me…”

I melted. Something clenched. Heat pooled. I shut my eyes and swallowed. Deep breaths pulled in more of his intoxicating scent. My head swam with possibilities.

“Only one problem…” His smooth voice drifted off.

My eyes snapped open. “What?” I croaked.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened.

“The ride’s too short for what I have in mind,” he finished, before hauling me out of the small compartment. If the elevator ding hadn’t announced our presence, the air rushing out with our scents and the smell of our arousal certainly did.

Multiple men and women—some Wereleopards, some Shifters, some norms—all glanced up from their computers. The supes in the room shared smug glances and knowing looks. With a flash of a few red dollar bills, I was pretty sure money exchanged hands. Guess our little elevator interlude didn’t go unnoticed.

The floor held multiple cubicles and large screens adorned the walls, some showing images from this office, some displaying unfamiliar rooms and people.

“Olly?” Tristan turned toward a beefcake with no neck. Wereleopard, and one of the pride members. Tristan had mentioned his second-in-command a few times.

“Yeah, boss?” His gaze darted to me, quick and calculating, probably assessing whether I’d hurt his Alpha again.

I kept my posture relaxed and my face open. If Tristan and I made this work, I’d become a part of the pride.

Olly’s gaze dropped to our clasped hands, and a small smile broke his stern expression.

“I texted you about Tancher Pharmaceuticals,” Tristan said to Olly. “We got anything on them?”

Olly’s grin widened. “We installed their entire security system.”

Tristan nodded. “I’d like everything we have on them, on and off the books, sent to the IT conference room.”

Olly mock-saluted and winked at me. Tristan didn’t seem insulted or shocked. He simply nodded again and pulled me to the room at the back of the floor.

Tristan motioned for me to precede him, and I stepped into the small conference room with no windows, three monitors on the wall, and a large rectangular table surrounded with ten large office chairs.

“Have a seat. Olly will get us the information soon. I’m sure he started compiling it as soon as he got my text. Very efficient.”

I quirked a brow. Tristan seemed tense.

“You smell so good,” he said. “If you don’t sit down and distance yourself, Olly might walk in on more than his paygrade allows.”

I smirked and pulled out one of the chairs. At least I wasn’t the only one hypersensitive and aware. Tristan grabbed a laptop from the cupboard, plugged in, and booted up.

“We should talk,” he said without glancing up.

“Thought we were talking.”

Tristan grunted and tapped away on his keyboard. “About your family. Whether you’ll let me help you find them. I have the connections. About whether you can forgive me.”