Little Wolf (24 page)

“Don’t think I’m going to be like this every time,” Tim snipped at him while fixing his hair to how he preferred it, only to nearly trip over his feet when he met Nathaniel’s stare. “I mean it.” Tim blinked at him. “I’m not going to lose my shit over you all the time. I’m going to go to work and not continue to kiss you in the street. But because I can’t think straight right now and we are making spectacles of ourselves. Not because you told me to.”

Nathaniel’s answer was nonverbal and hard to explain. He pulled Tim to him for a moment, and rested his chin on the top of Tim’s head. He breathed, a weary, sweet sound, and then let Tim go.

Tim had a feeling if he’d been on all fours and covered in fur, he would have understood that perfectly. On two legs with a hard-on he had no idea how to respond, so he made his way across the street to the café with Nathaniel silent and hot behind him.

He didn’t risk a look back. He didn’t think his body could take it.

I
T
COULD
have been Nathaniel’s scent lingering on him despite his attempts to clean up, but for the rest of the day, Tim attracted attention no matter what he did. The café was crowded, even by its usual standards, and every single were, human, fairy, and whatever else seemed to be glancing Tim’s way. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the measuring looks from all of them, or the grins from Carl every time he caught Tim staring out the window. Even the baby wolves were there. They must have had the day off from school, because they spent the morning gathered around Tim as if fascinated by how he unloaded boxes. Albert in particular seemed to be on the verge of a question until Tim had him clock in and set him to work.

The point of being in this town was to be unnoticed, and instead Tim had managed to grind on their sheriff in full view of the citizenry. Of course word had gotten out. If he weren’t so annoyed at the attention, he would have been chewing his lip as he thought about what Silas would say when he found out, what Silas would do. But no one was giving him any time to think.

If people were going to judge Tim now that he was, possibly, Nathaniel’s current lover, or in the running to be, or would have been if he hadn’t come in his jeans like the virgin he was, then at least Nathaniel could have stuck around to glare at them. Instead he’d left the glaring to Tim, not even showing up around lunchtime.

Tim didn’t know the protocol for these things. But he thought people would have had more to say about it. He and Nathaniel had been in the street, in front of the sheriff’s station, when the kiss had turned into Tim gasping and shooting his load. Despite that, and all the stares, no one, not even Carl, said a damn thing.

Perhaps Nathaniel’s lovers were off-limits, or maybe it was the increasingly angry scowl on Tim’s face. He was still horny, he was still confused, Nathaniel still wasn’t there, and everyone in the damn county was in the café gawking at him. Tim’s angry expression probably defied description.

Trying to imagine the response from Silas did not put Tim in a better mood. His uncle was not demonstrative. He didn’t touch as Nathaniel and the other weres in Wolf’s Paw did, but Tim had always thought his uncle loved him. Ever since entering his uncle’s house, Tim had been educated in werewolf lore as well as human history, trained on how to run a financial empire. Now he realized he’d only been educated with what his uncle had seen fit to tell him, and a key aspect of were development had been denied him.

Tim might have discovered that being held down by a bigger were he trusted not to hurt him was a turn-on, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be controlled. Oh no, he had demanded Nathaniel keep kissing him, and Nathaniel had. Tim didn’t know what that meant exactly, but he was now in a position to find out, and he intended to.

Not that Nathaniel was around. By the time the Spring Thaw committee people came in looking for Nathaniel too, in the middle of
Diedre’s Secret
no less, Tim didn’t feel accommodating. No, he didn’t know where the sheriff was, and he didn’t see why they expected him to, even if it was lunchtime. Even if Nathaniel should have been there and wasn’t, because Tim had done something wrong, because his uncle hadn’t bothered to let Tim learn the first thing about werewolf mating.

He had a feeling if he stayed until August for the Full Moon Festival, he would find out more than he’d ever wanted to know. From the way the committee people were talking, the town would be packed with horny tourists, and all the available werewolves of Wolf’s Paw had to do their part, the sheriff especially. Tim had no idea why the committee felt the need to broach the subject with him, but after the third time they mentioned getting Nathaniel seen at the festival, Tim slammed a hand down on the counter. They went silent. So did Albert and the customer he’d been ringing up.

“No.” Tim had no right to say it, and yet he heard himself saying it. If that was instinct, then so be it.

“No?” The head of the committee was the mayor’s husband, as large and werewolf as could be, and no less intimidating for the sleeping baby strapped to his chest. “The sheriff does it every year. Last year we even got him to participate in the auction, but of course we wouldn’t ask that now.”

“What does that even mean?” Tim frowned at everyone but the baby. “You had better not mean one of those cheesy date auctions you see in movies.” Nathaniel would detest something like that. He had practically admitted to hating being the town’s sex fantasy. Tim narrowed his eyes. “Scratch that. You had
better
mean a date auction. If you were auctioning off anything else….”

“No! No, of course not.” The mayor’s husband wasn’t the only one to jump in to defend the town against accusations of pimping, but he was the only one to keep going. “However, if anything else happens after the date, it’s between the couples involved.”

“I am not hearing this.” Tim had made jokes about the town pimping out its weres, but apparently it was true. “I’m not hearing this. But if I
was
hearing this, my answer would still be no.”

The mayor’s husband—Tim wanted to say his name was Jerry—sighed but lowered his voice. “Look. A significant portion of this town’s revenue comes from our tourist season, in particular the festival at the end of summer. There’s always plenty of single weres happy with all the attention, but the sheriff, well….” Jerry smelled of caution and baby wipes. “The sheriff is a draw on his own. He has to at least be seen.”

Tim had known the tourist season was important, but not pimp-out-the-sheriff important. He pictured Nathaniel with his shirt open and his pants tight as he walked through a crowd of lustful humans and weres. He tightened his jaw. “No.”

He put a hand up before Jerry could argue or call the mayor and have her argue. “I recognize the financial benefit, but if you’re asking me”—though Tim couldn’t think why they were, except he had made out with Nathaniel in the street that morning—“the answer is no.” Tim licked his teeth but resisted the urge to keep them bared. He didn’t need to; Jerry and the others were listening. “Nathaniel will already be working during the festivals, I’m guessing. In fact he’ll probably be working nonstop through the entire summer with the extra crowds in town. He has enough to do without fending off the horny masses.”

Jerry was unappeased. Tim suddenly had no problem grinning at him. If they were dumb enough to ask for Tim’s opinion, they were going to get it. “Making nice with the public is good for a sheriff, and I can see how Nathaniel is a draw.” He enjoyed saying
Nathaniel
when no one else would. It reminded him that the faint scent of Nathaniel still clung to him and that the others could no doubt detect it even under layers of soap, which was probably the reason Tim had the momentary authority to make them listen. “But Nathaniel isn’t a normal sheriff, and he’s going to have a town full of agitated weres during a full moon to watch over. He’ll be there, tight uniform and all. But he’s not doing any auctions or any fake dates or kissing booths or whatever else you have planned.”

One of the others on the committee gave a twitch. So they
had
been hiding some other plan for the sheriff. Something they probably saw as harmless and which Nathaniel would have done for the sake of the town because he was an idiot like that.

Tim huffed in satisfaction. “So it’s settled. He puts in appearances as he’s working and nothing else, and I guarantee he’ll be polite and distant and the sexy man-beast in charge that he always is. You want more of a time commitment? Might I remind you there are other hot weres around? Have them do it. Albert?” Tim slid a glance over in time to catch Albert’s shy head bob.

Albert didn’t look toward Graham, but Tim would bet he wanted to. His tone was intrigued. “Kissing booth?”

“We don’t actually have a kissing booth. This is a festival for adults, and they tend to want more. A date. Conversation. A memory.” Jerry seemed to hold back saying anything else. Maybe he was aware that what he wasn’t saying didn’t put him in the best light.

“No one is pimping out Albert,” Graham broke in, in a more level voice than Tim would have managed at his age.

“Except Albert if he wants to.” Tim met Graham’s stare, waited a second, then turned to Jerry. “Whatever the adult weres in this town want to get up to with tourists is their business.” He waited a second for no real reason other than to make the others wait. The mere fact that they were waiting would give his pronouncement even more weight in their minds. Psychological warfare 101. “Your sheriff is too busy to be playing dream date. He’ll be out. He’ll be seen. And you managed to sneak pictures of him into the promotional material you send out.” The committee twitched again. Carl let out a gleeful snort that made Tim smile. “He’s on the website too, isn’t he?” Nathaniel probably knew that and pretended he didn’t. Tim didn’t need to pretend. “Fine. The sheriff is the fantasy. But that’s all he is. The real Nathaniel doesn’t have time for that.”

If Tim looked down now, they might remember they were talking to a little wolf with no authority in their town whatsoever. But part of being in charge was appearing to be in charge, so Tim didn’t move until they did, and then only to lean forward on the counter. “Was that it, or can I ring you up for something?” This episode of
Deidre’s Secret
should have Blake on again. He’d been gone for the past few episodes, having run away to lick his wounds or whatever after Carolyn had rejected him.

Jerry’s eyes widened at the dismissal. The sound Carl was making could have been laughter. Tim flushed all over, but then Jerry tossed his head and gave in. “That’s actually more than we were expecting to get this year, though of course you must know it will affect ticket sales to the singles dances.”

Tim blinked—once, twice—then set aside his questions about
dances
for later. He didn’t want to give away any more after winning this victory. “Yeah, well,” he bluffed, hoping he smelled confident, “don’t ask Nathaniel about it behind my back either.”

Jerry gave him a weird look but stepped from the counter. “No need to bark at me. I know better. I heard you were stubborn, but jeez.”

Tim wrinkled his nose and took a breath. It took him a minute to realize how tense he was. By then the committee was moving into the café, where a line was building up. Robin’s Egg was having a sexy moment somewhere with Cosmo, and neither of them were anywhere to be found.

“Whole town full of people looking for a piece of him and he would have said yes,” Tim spat quietly. “This town is fucked-up.”

“This town makes perfect sense. You’re the one who doesn’t understand.” For once Graham’s attention was not on a book.

Tim was not in the mood. “Oh, I get it. Nathaniel is possessive enough that one make-out session means they weren’t sure about him dating other people, and they wanted to see what I thought about it. The joke’s on them, because I’m hardly his mate.” Tim blew out an irritated breath. Albert swatted Graham’s hand down and shook his head when Graham seemed about to interrupt. “Anyway,” Tim went on, a touch too loudly, “I’m not going to be here. I’ll be gone by August, but at least Nathaniel will get a break from all that. How bad is the town’s financial situation if his appearance at a dance will make or break it? Honestly. These festivals existed before he was sheriff.”

The crystalline stillness around him made him go silent. Even Carl seemed momentarily frozen. “Gone?” Albert asked at last.

“But they’ll be back.” Tim turned away from the baby wolves’ round-eyed stares and found himself under Carl’s scrutiny. He had a perplexing urge to explain himself. “I learned from watching my uncle that people always want something from the powerful. That committee or some other festival committee will be back with another request. You had better not let them get away with anything shady if I’m not around. The town might need money, but there are limits. Remember that. Nathaniel wants….” Tim’s momentary smile was finally gone. “Nathaniel wants more than some fake date.”

“You got something to tell them, you can tell them yourself.” Carl got up to make the declaration, took his paper, and pushed his way out through the crowd, who all seemed to simultaneously remember they had other places to be. Except for the kids, the crowd began to vanish, one or two at a time.