Paws for Change (3 page)

“Oh,” Edwin whispered again.

Nodding, Dillan turned away and headed into the house. He glanced around with interest, taking in the rustic décor and Native American theme. The walls were a medium hue of tan that probably had some colorfully exotic name. There were hardwood floors throughout the rooms he could see, and with an open concept, that was plenty.

Dillan could hear Edwin’s soft steps and the whisper that could only be another shifter moving over wood, telling him the pair followed. He did his best to ignore the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It’d been far too long since he’d been on a pride’s land...or a pack’s, for that matter. Dillan reminded himself that he had Alpha Declan McIntire’s permission.

The big Irish African American had been understandably wary, what with his mate and adopted daughter in his home. Once his beta, Shane Alvaro, and enforcer, Carson Angeni, had arrived, he’d turn surprisingly warm. He’d even introduced his human mate, Lark, and their daughter, Sara, before they’d headed off to take the teenager to school.

“You have a beautiful home,” Dillan complimented, striding to the kitchen and helping himself to the coffee he saw filling the glass carafe. “Is this that weak shit you used to make?” he asked, turning to grin at Edwin.

“Whatever,” Edwin grumbled as he headed down a hall and out of sight.

Byron chuckled. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who can’t stand Edwin’s coffee,” he said. “No, I make the coffee. It’ll put hair on your chest.”

“Which is why I don’t drink it,” said a young woman as she strode into the room. With mocha skin and deep green eyes, she looked to be a mixed heritage of African American and Caucasian. She walked to the kitchen bar and settled on a bar stool. Then, she held out her hand across the bar to Dillan. “I’m Diana Ziegler, Byron’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dillan said, taking her hand. He gave it a quick shake before releasing it and focusing on removing a mug from one of the hooks over the sink. After pouring a mugful, he returned his focus to her and grinned. “I’m Dillan Shoreman.”

“Edwin’s godfather, right?” Diana replied, nodding. She tilted her head and sniffed, scenting the air. “Cat shifter. What kind?”

“Diana,” Byron scolded. “You know better than to ask like that.”

Diana scowled. “What? It’s not like I couldn’t just ask Edwin. What’s the big deal?” She focused on Dillan, lifted one brow, and smirked. “Is it a secret? Are you here because you’re going into hiding?”

“Your blunt curiosity is refreshing,” Dillan responded, chuckling. “I am not in hiding and it is not a secret,” he told her. “I’m a puma. Some would call me a mountain lion or cougar depending on the region we’re in.” He shrugged. “I’m a large tawny cat.” Winking, he added, “Much prettier than a wolf.”

Snickering, Diana shook her head. “Not
my
wolf. I’m a beautiful, deep tan color that matches my hair,” she said, feigning haughtiness as she flickered her light brown hair over her shoulder and tilted up her chin. A gleam of mischief lit her dark green eyes.

Dillan snorted. “Well, we’ll have to go running and see,” he offered.

Diana hummed for a second, then nodded. She turned and looked at Edwin, who’d just returned to the room wearing different jeans and a blue pull over. “Edwin can be the judge.”

“Uh, judge of what?” Edwin asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose. His brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you guys talking about?”

Byron snorted. “Diana thinks her wolf is prettier than Dillan’s cat. I guess we’re all going for a run later.”

“Oh, cool,” Edwin responded, grinning. “I can get some equations worked out while you guys play.” He winked. “Then I challenge you to a game of chess, Dillan.”

“You’re on,” Dillan responded, pleased that Edwin had kept up with the game.

“You’re going down, old man,” Edwin teased. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Bring it on, youngster,” Dillan quipped right back. He downed the last of his coffee. He held up the mug and saluted Byron with it before saying, “You’re right. Good coffee.”

“Ready to go, then?” Byron asked.

Dillan nodded. “Sure am,” he confirmed, turning away and rinsing out the mug before leaving it upside down in the sink. “Show me this town of yours, Byron.”

Byron snorted, leading the way out of the house. “There isn’t much to see.”

“So, you liked my straight-forwardness, huh?” Diana said, skipping a few steps to catch up to Dillan and walk next to him.

Amused at the young woman’s antics, Dillan nodded. “Yes.”

“Can I ride on your bike with you?”

Dillan laughed, knowing he’d walked right into that one. “Sure.”

Derek spotted the electronics store just as he pulled into the parking spot for the diner. Since he didn’t know what time a small town electronics store would close, he decided to run across the street to the store before supper. He still couldn’t believe he’d forgotten his phone charger.

Maybe it’d been an unconscious thing. Derek didn’t want to talk to anyone in his life right now anyway.

When Derek had walked out of his job’s office building Thursday evening, he’d left his phone off. He’d driven home, packed a few things into a sports bag, along with his shaving kit. After tossing everything into his car, Derek had started driving.

Derek realized he’d made an unconscious decision to head east when he passed a
Welcome to Nevada
sign. He’d driven until he could barely keep his eyes open. Pulling into a rest stop, he’d joined the trucks and other travelers parked in the large lot, pushed his seat back, and slept in his car.

The next morning, Derek had dug out Luther’s business card and punched
Stone Ridge, Colorado
into his GPS. Over more than a dozen hours later, his eyes burning from lack of sleep, Derek wanted two things...food and sleep. To make things even better, he’d attempted to turn on his phone and discovered it was dead. It’d been oh-so-tempting to toss it out the window and not worry about anything.

Unfortunately, Derek couldn’t walk away completely from his family. He couldn’t do that to his mother. Already he felt guilty for not calling her and letting her know he was okay. After Forest had kicked Deke out of their family, she’d become extremely overprotective, always wanting to know how he was doing.

Yawning widely, Derek rubbed his eyes with one hand as he hit the lock button on his key control. He strode toward the road, marveling at how there could be eight cars in the diner parking lot, but not one on the road. After glancing left, Derek stepped off the curb and headed across the street.

Derek reached halfway when he heard a high-pitched horn and the squeal of tires. Turning right, he gaped upon seeing a black motorcycle swerving around him only a few feet away. He stumbled back a couple of steps, his eyes wide. He tripped and, flailing his arms, he landed hard on his ass on the far side of the road’s sidewalk.

Gaping, Derek watched the man driving the motorcycle nearly topple, managing to catch his balance just in time. The woman behind the driver was cringing as she hunched close to the man, her entire body tense. Her grip on the man’s belt-loops were white-knuckled.

After righting the bike, the driver turned his head and focused on Derek. A feral glare turned down his dark brows and a snarl curled his goateed lips. Anger caused his green eyes to sparkle.

“Son of a bitch,” the lean, leather-clad biker roared. “What the fuck? Don’t you know how to watch where you’re going?”

Derek gulped. While he’d always thought of bikers as big, fat, and tattooed, this guy was none of that. He appeared lean and toned, what with the way the black leather chaps caressed his firm thighs.

Shaking his head, Derek frowned at his thoughts.

Geez, where did that come from?

Another horn honked and someone yelled, “Damn, man. Get out of the fucking road!”

Focusing at his surroundings again, Derek spotted the biker rolling his motorcycle out of the middle of the road and into the electronic store’s parking lot. He just stared as he watched the man offer an arm and help the young woman off the back of the bike. Derek hoped it was his daughter or something and not his girlfriend because there was a hell of an age difference between them. It had nothing to do with how his tired mind placed him on the back of the bike instead of the woman.

Good God, I must be exhausted.

“Hey, are you okay? I didn’t think I hit you,” the biker growled, suddenly all up in Derek’s space. The guy even reached out and took hold of his upper arm with one hand. “Look at me.”

Obeying the demanding voice, Derek struggled to focus. When had he gotten so tired? Maybe his first stop should have been a hotel room. He looked up just a bit, which didn’t happen too often with him being six foot two, and he stared into the biker’s eyes...which—oddly enough—appeared concerned.

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek muttered. “Fine, just tired,” he admitted. “I’m sorry for walking in front of you.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. His grip tightened just a bit. “Are you injured?”

“Uh,” Derek started in surprise. He yanked his gaze from the man’s intriguing eyes and glanced down, first at his arm where the man held him, to his elbow, which stung. Lifting his arm, Derek noticed a scrape from where he’d fallen. Several tiny beads of blood pooled on his skin. “Just a scratch,” he finally replied. “I’m fine.”

“Not fine,” the man rumbled. “We should clean that up. We wouldn’t want it to get infected.”

Some of the daze caused by fatigue must have lifted—because it surely couldn’t be how his blood was pumping fast in his veins by this man’s presence—for Derek finally managed to focus. He furrowed his brows and asked, “Wait. You just about ran me over. Now you want to clean my wounds?” Derek snorted. “Are you afraid I’ll sue you or something?”

“You’d lose,” the man replied, his voice full of certainty. The corners of his mouth curved up into a smile. “
You
were jay-walking.”

Derek scoffed. “Right. Like you’ve never done it.”

“I didn’t say I hadn’t,” the biker said with a grin. “I just never did it while half asleep.” He cupped Derek’s jaw and tilted his chin up a bit, blatantly inspecting his face. “When was the last time you slept? Truly
slept?
”

Now
there
was a loaded question. Tough to answer, too, especially with his mind muddied by not just fatigue, but by the feel of the warm, calloused hand touching him so intimately. He should be stepping away, breaking the contact.

Instead, Derek whispered, “I’m a lawyer. I always sleep with one eye open. Ya know?”

“That is a shame, handsome,” the biker rumbled, a calculating gleam entering his green eyes. “It sounds like you need a little rest and relaxation.” He tilted his head and swept his gaze over him. “Are you a local? Or just visiting?”

“Visiting,” Derek replied without hesitation. Holy shit. What was this man doing to his brain? It had to be the fatigue.

“You have a room around here?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. You’re in no shape to drive,” the man pointed out. “Hop on the bike behind me and we’ll get you to a bed where you can rest.” The man said the words as if expecting to be obeyed. He slid his hand down Derek’s neck, caressed his pulse point with his thumb for a couple of seconds, then released him. “Come with me.”

“W-Wait,” Derek muttered, frowning, getting frustrated with how foggy his head felt. “I need a charger.” Right, that was why he’d crossed the street.
Street.
“And what about my car?”

“I’ll make certain it’s brought to my cabin,” the man assured. He wrapped his right arm around Derek’s waist, and suddenly Derek found himself pressed against the leaner, taller man. “We’ll get you a charger, handsome. You’re dead on your feet. Let’s take care of your need to rest, first, hmm?”

“Um, okay?” Derek mumbled, deciding he was far more wiped than he’d thought. Driving, with his adrenaline up, he hadn’t realized he’d grown so fatigued. Now, though, after not even ten minutes out of the car, and all he could think about was finding a place to collapse. Except, wait... “Who are you?”

The biker didn’t answer until they’d reached his motorcycle. The young woman stood beside the parked bike, eyeing them both with obvious curiosity. “Everything okay?” she asked.

Derek’s strange helper nodded. “Fine, Diana. Will you let my son know I met my mate, and he’s not feeling the best? I’m going to take him some place to lie down.”

The woman, Diana, her eyes widened. “Oh.
Oh!
Yeah, sure.” She swept a gaze that, even in Derek’s sleep-deprived state, could clearly be called assessing. “Not bad, Tomcat,” she said, grinning at the biker, obviously teasing. “He’ll be a hottie once he’s had some sleep and doesn’t look like death warmed over.”

While Derek felt a blush creep up his neck, he heard the biker growl softly. Oddly enough, he felt his cock thicken in his jeans. Derek shifted his stance, trying to find a comfortable way to stand without drawing attention to his sudden, unexpected problem.

“That’s enough, Diana,” the biker scolded. “I’ll call Edwin in a little while. They’ll give you a ride?”

“Of course,” Diana replied. “See you around.” She winked cheekily. While jogging down the sidewalk to the corner, she looked over her shoulder, waved and called, “Have a good night!”

“Edwin told me she was a quiet, studious girl,” the biker grumbled, shaking his head. “Little puppy has some cheek.”

“Puppy? Tomcat?” Derek said their odd nicknames out loud. “Are you guys animal environmentalists or gang members?” They gave each other odd names, too, right?

Focusing on Derek, the biker gave him a smile. “Not environmentalists. No. My name is Dillan Shoreman,” he told him, releasing him and swinging aboard his motorcycle. “I’m here visiting my godson and his husband. I’ve rented a comfortable cabin in the woods. You’ll have plenty of peace and quiet to rest and regain your strength,” he assured, holding out his hand. “Climb aboard and let me help you.”

Derek couldn’t pinpoint why, but he obeyed. He gripped Dillan’s hand and used it to climb aboard the motorcycle. Settling on the small bitch seat, Derek remembered riding his buddy’s dirt bike years ago.