Two Minutes (Seven Series Book 6) (4 page)

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Authors: Dannika Dark

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BOOK: Two Minutes (Seven Series Book 6)
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He folded his arms. “That’s false advertising.”

“So is makeup,” she said, “but you don’t seem to have any arguments about that.”

Denver twisted his mouth. “Actually I prefer
au natural
, but whatever. Plus this sorta matches my eyes. Chicks dig the whole matching thing.”

He pushed away from the wall and stepped over the bench to my left. Suddenly it felt awkward sitting beside him. I wasn’t a little girl anymore, and Denver wasn’t my watchdog. My heart thundered in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

When his arm accidentally brushed against mine as he reached for the rolls, butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I took a discreet breath and glanced over at him. When had Denver stopped being my best friend and become just a really hot guy?

“I’ve missed those dimples,” William said. “Adorable trait on a woman. Wouldn’t you agree, Denver?”

Denver silently pointed his fork at him, and William continued smiling while he sipped his soda.

“Let Auntie Naya take care of everything,” Naya continued, scrolling through her phone. “I have some nice boys in mind.”

Lynn set down her knife. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Without looking up, Naya answered. “Don’t worry, mama. Humans only. I have all kinds of contacts.”

Hendrix and Lennon shrieked with laughter and we turned to see what was going on.

“Why is he
wet?
” April asked in a tone that implied she was afraid to know the answer.

Spartacus walked into the room, periodically stopping to shake his hind legs and spraying water all over the floor.

Austin sighed and leaned back, tossing his fork onto his plate. “All right. Who left the toilet seat open?”

I grimaced. “Sorry. I think that was me.”

Naya quickly got up and opened a drawer.

“Not one of my good dish towels!” Mom said in horror.

When Spartacus disappeared under the table, three of the men shot up from their seats.

“That thing better not rub on me,” Denver said. “I just put on my good jeans.”

When the doorbell rang, Naya straightened her back like an arrow. “That must be Nadia! I’ll get it.”

“Don’t bother,” Denver said, rushing behind her. “We’ll just skip introductions and head out. I don’t need the pack grilling…” Denver’s voice trailed off when they left the room.

Reno pulled the long bench away from the table so he could crawl under it. He emerged with his arms extended and the drippy feline at the end. The cat made a raspy meow and then stuck his tongue out.

“Holy smokes,” April said. “Don’t you dare come back in here, Reno.”

“Don’t worry, princess. As soon as I put him in the dryer, I’m going to take a bath in bleach.”

A few chuckles sounded and Lexi went to get some paper towels. “Welcome back, Maizy. Just another glamorous day in the life of the Weston pack.” She got on her knees and began wiping up the water spots.

William hadn’t moved from his seat and continued cutting his steak into tiny pieces. When he finished, he patted the palm of his hand against a bottle and put a few dollops of steak sauce on the edge of his plate. As he did that, he was looking up at me from beneath those wolfish brows, grinning. William had an unusual way of dressing—as if he’d bought clothes from two centuries ago at a thrift store. His shirt was baggy with strings that tied loosely across the chest. “I thought you’d be coming home from England with a ring on your finger.”

I smiled playfully and softened my voice. “None of them were good enough for me.”

His brows rose. “Indeed.”

“What about you? Anyone special?”

He took a bite of steak and smiled with his eyes. “Say, if you want to go out on the town this evening, I have the night free.”

William had gotten a job years ago as a consultant. He had such an amicable personality and a talent for resolving conflict that Packmasters began hiring him to give advice on interpack relationships where they were struggling. Sometimes disputes could be resolved easily by adjusting rank or changing responsibilities, while other times a packmate would have to leave. After a while, Packmasters wanted advice on how to deal with conflicting personalities within the house, or a difficult second-in-command.

“That sounds like fun, Will. Maybe we can get a group of us to go out.”

“Where would you like to go?” he asked.

Only one place felt like home. “Howlers.”

Chapter 3
 

The minute we walked into Howlers, Rosie dropped a tray and ran across the bar to give me a hug.
“Oh, honey, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Rosie had been waiting tables at Howlers for years and was like an extended part of the family.

I laughed and stepped back before she squeezed the life out of me. “I’m just glad there was nothing on your tray.”

She jutted her curvy hip to the side and looked me up and down. I was becoming self-conscious about all the appraisals I’d been receiving.

“Ay Dios mio! Look how you’ve grown!” She touched my wavy hair. “You should let me curl this.”

“You think?”

Izzy lightly slapped her hand. “No makeovers, Rosie. She’s beautiful just the way she is.”

Something I’d heard all my life living with the Weston pack. Even though I had a slightly crooked tooth on one side, even when I went through a growth spurt at age twelve and didn’t quite fill out like all the other girls, and even at fourteen when I got acne and didn’t want to leave my room. No matter what, I was always perfect in their eyes.

“What’ll you have?” Rosie asked. “Lemonade?”

“See if the bartender knows what a Moscow mule is.”

She giggled and pursed her red lips. “I’ll tell Frank. What if he doesn’t know?”

I shrugged since I wasn’t serious, but I knew how Rosie liked to challenge Frank’s knowledge of mixed drinks. “Just a beer is fine. I suppose I need a grown-up drink for my first night back in town.”

Mom and Trevor had offered to stay home and keep an eye on the kids, which was kind of nice. I loved hanging out with my mom, but not so much in a bar. Aside from that, it wasn’t her scene.

I turned around and watched Reno holding April in his arms—her feet dangling off the ground. He planted a kiss on her mouth and smiled with closed lips. She reached up and touched the crinkles around his eyes, kissing him back before he set her down.

April was more reserved than the other girls, a little shy around men, but always friendly and smiling. It seemed as if Reno loved her even more than I remembered growing up. Was that possible?

I sidled up to the barstool and took a seat.

“Game of darts. Who’s up?” Jericho called out, swaggering toward the game room.

Izzy raised her hand. “Ooo, me! I promise I’ll go easy on you this time.” She waggled her eyebrows before zipping ahead of him and looking over her shoulder.

Jericho pinched her behind. “Bring it on, Sexybelle.”

“A Moscow mule, huh?” Frank flashed me a look of irritation. The light caught the silver strips of hair on either side of his head, making him seem older than he actually was.

I pulled a bowl of peanuts in front of me and offered him an apologetic glance. “Beer is fine.”

He wagged his finger at me. “I’m going to look that up when I go home. Next time you come in, order it.”

I looked over my shoulder toward the back of the room, behind all the tables. Wheeler was racking up the balls at the pool table while Austin, Lexi, and Naya chalked their sticks. They were playing in teams, though I couldn’t tell if it was couples or men against women. A few men standing nearby caught sight of Austin’s tattoos and backed up a step. In the surrounding territories, those who didn’t know Packmasters by their faces knew them by their markings.

William stole the seat to my left and pulled the bowl of peanuts toward him. “It’s a good thing you traveled young. I’m sure it was difficult to be away, but it becomes harder to do the older you get.”

“Why is that?”

He licked the salt from his fingers. “Older things tend to grow roots.”

“Mom planted the idea in my head pretty young. It wasn’t easy to leave as a teen, but I guess at the time it seemed like a big adventure and a whole lot of freedom. I’m fortunate; I can’t thank her and the pack enough for paying for my education.”

William ate another handful of peanuts. “Life is an education, perhaps the most important one you’ll ever receive. Just look at my situation with how I came into this pack.”

“I was young when that happened with Ivy.”

“Indeed. But it worked out for the best. Caleb moved to second-in-command, and I found a pack much like the one I grew up in. Like you, I traveled young. Common for young wolves after going through their first change. It’s important for us to get out and experience life, because those experiences are going to come into play when we finally return home.”

“How so?”

William ate another peanut and then pushed the bowl away. “Austin was once a bounty hunter, and that groomed him for a leadership position. He learned patience, authority, independence, but also how
not
to lead a pack based on the lowlifes he caught. Same with Reno.”

I laughed and sipped the beer Frank had set down. “And Jericho with his music career?”

“I think it taught him who he didn’t want to be, what’s important in life, and who matters. We glean a little from our experiences—especially the blunders.”

“A valid argument, but I don’t think it applies to me. I didn’t have anything exciting happen while I was away.”

He turned to face the room, his elbows on the bar. “Maybe that was your lesson.”

Yeah, I learned how alone I felt in the world no matter where I was, but I didn’t tell William that. He probably already knew. Just sitting there in the bar, smelling different colognes and perfumes mingling, hearing an old Aerosmith song, and listening to the laughter of people I’d known all my life filled me with so many conflicting feelings. I didn’t have a father, and the only reason the pack had taken us in was because of Lexi. I’d never met my older brother, Wes, who died before I was born. I knew my pack had a sense of love and obligation to me, but my mom was right. What kind of life could I have living with them? I was a girl with one foot in the human world and the other in the Breed world, and neither one wanted me. What would happen if I met a nice human guy and brought him home to meet the Cole brothers? It was unavoidable that no matter whom I chose, I’d have to tell him my sister was a wolf. Grounds for divorce?

William snapped his fingers in front of my face. “You moved back home and you’re still a million miles away.”

I clutched his shoulder and rested my head on it. “I’m sorry. It’s just overwhelming to be back home.”

He kissed the top of my head. “If you need anyone to talk to…”

“Thanks.”

I could never confide in William. I loved him to bits and he gave sound advice, but we’d never been close like that. Not many girls want to confide their deepest and darkest secrets to their brother, and that’s what he was to me.

“Oh shit,” William murmured so low I barely heard him.

When I turned around, Denver was strutting in our direction with a gorgeous woman on his arm. Gorgeous was an understatement. She had stunning blond hair that put mine to shame—silky and floating on air. She smiled wide with her perfect teeth, and then my gaze traveled down to her black dress, which was nothing more than an outline of her body. It hugged every scandalous curve and showed off her long legs, which glowed as if they’d been rubbed with the most exotic oils known to mankind. She looked like one of my princess dolls come to life, her onyx teardrop necklace drawing attention to her perfectly shaped breasts.

Heads turned.

William jumped between us and I couldn’t see Denver anymore.

“Hey, Will. This is Nadia, my date. Nadia, this is William, my packmate.”

“How do you do,” she said in an elegant voice, accented in Russian.

Urgh!
I just wanted to hurl peanuts at her. Even the perfume that wafted off her was sophisticated and refined.

“A pleasure,” William said politely as he bowed.

He not only bowed lower than normal but also stayed down longer than necessary for a greeting. When I glanced up, Denver was looking at me with the same startled expression as Spartacus, so I thumped William on the behind with a flick of my finger.

William sat back down. “Denver, I’ll let you finish introductions.” When he turned to drink his beer, I wanted to curl up and die.

Denver took a step closer to Nadia and curved his arm around her narrow waist. “Nadia, this is Maizy, my uh…”

“I believe…
packmate
is the word you’re searching for,” William offered.

Denver had failed to introduce William as the third-in-command, undoubtedly so no one would outshine him. I could sense it had rubbed William the wrong way.

Denver sliced a hot glare at him. “Maizy, this is Nadia Kaz… Kaizer—”

“Kozlov,” she corrected. Nadia assessed me, her gaze critical, and I didn’t appreciate it. “Are you a new addition to the pack, or are you on your way out soon? Let me know if you’re scouting for a pack. I happen to know a Packmaster in search of a good bitch.”

“Too bad you’re not available,” I muttered.

William made an abrupt sound, and beer dribbled down his chin and onto the bar.

“Would you repeat that?” she asked in a tone that told me she’d heard exactly what I said and was hoping to challenge it.

“If I were a parrot I might. But as it stands, I’m a human.”

Her eyes widened and she jerked her neck back. “You take in
humans?
” she asked Denver. “To
live
with your pack?”

Denver shrugged indifferently. “They’ve been with us for years.”

His eyes caught mine and our gazes became tangled—neither of us able to look away. My heart thumped against my chest and anger heated my veins. He was so dismissive, as though I was no better than the old leather sofa that’d been sitting around in our living room for years.

Nadia pinched his chin and steered the direction of his gaze. “Let’s go find a quiet place to talk.”

When they turned away, Nadia walked two steps ahead and shook her hips with each step, causing her ass to swing like the bells of Notre-Dame.

“She forgot to bring a leash for her date,” I growled.

William glanced over his shoulder. “Mustn’t let it bother you. Denver’s been dating for centuries, or haven’t you noticed?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were stirring the pot.”

A half smile curved up his cheek. “A good stew always needs stirring. Tell me about the men you’ve dated.”

“English men are different. They like to sing when they drink, and they seem a little more reserved than Americans, but maybe it’s just the crowd I hung out with.”

“Did they treat you well?”

I took another sip of my beer. “I guess. Everyone made me aware of my American accent. I got a lot of heat when I first moved there and was still using words like y’all or fixin’. I dropped some of those words from my vocabulary after a couple of years.”

“I noticed. People will always find a way to single you out because you’re different. Mustn’t let ’em get to you. Why don’t you mingle with the pack? I’m going to see if anyone is up for a game of darts.” William winked and strolled off with an air of confidence.

Meanwhile, I was fixin’ to order another beer.

***

 

After losing count of how many beers I’d ordered, it occurred to me how stressed out I’d become over the Denver situation.

Now, completely inebriated, I suddenly gained newfound confidence. The kind that had me staggering over to Denver’s table.

I’d never cared much about fashion. As a kid, I used to wear lots of princess dresses. But after hitting my teens, I realized how insignificant I was in the world of Breed. I had no friends my age, didn’t go to school, and therefore had no reason to dress up. Style just became something I associated with people who had someone to impress.

Nadia’s sable-brown eyes lowered to my frayed jean shorts, and I saw a familiar look on her face. The kind women give when they realize you’re not a threat to their game. I wanted her to say something bitchy so I could find a valid reason to hate her.

“Do join us,” she offered.

Denver suddenly scooted his chair to the left and put a few inches of air between them. “Where’s Lexi?” he asked, searching the room. “Why don’t you hang out with her?”

I gracefully sank into the chair and crossed my legs. “Because I’m no longer an adolescent who needs to be shooed away from the table when the grown-ups are talking. Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Maizy, I’m on a date, and your pupils are spinning like pinwheels. How many beers have you had?”

I pulled his beer toward me. “You never call me Maizy,” I murmured. “Why did you stop writing?”

Denver leaned forward and pulled his beer away from me. “I don’t think this is the time.”

“Well I do. I think this is the perfect time to address why I’ve been sending you handwritten letters since I was sixteen, and you decided five years ago to stop writing me back. Five years. Don’t you care about me anymore?”

“That’s bullshit.
You’re
the one who fucking left.”

“To go to school!”

“Plenty of schools here.”

I stood up, fueled by alcohol and crumbling inhibitions. “And you had plenty of opportunities to come see me. Every time I came home to visit, you were never around. I can’t believe you just cut me off like that. Oh God, what am I saying?” I covered my face.

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