Dire Wolf Mates - Chapter 104: Chapter 104

Everything had been going along just fine. Or so he’d thought. But overnight, something had changed. Gwendolyn had started avoiding him in earnest after that day. He felt raw and confused, his Dire Wolf, too.
Weylin hated to admit it, but he was a little bit butt hurt by the whole thing. Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. What she needed was someone with patience and understanding, but what the Fates stuck her with was him.
Weylin was OG love ‘em and leave ‘em type. He never had a serious relationship, flitting from bed to bed like a bee flying from flower to flower. At least he hadn’t bedded any of their staff.
Oh, he’d had some minor flirtations with one or two waitresses. But that was as far as it went. Even he knew not to shit where he ate.
Then there was the biggest impediment to his pursuing Gwendolyn, and that was the fact she was human. How he was going to get over that obstacle was a mystery to all, him included.
Weylin was a damn monster. These days, he was barely keeping his animal under control. It was way too soon for any normal to understand, but Gwendolyn Hoffer had already burrowed her way into Weylin’s untried heart. Bottom line was he never felt this way about a woman before.
Warm. Fuzzy. Possessive. And yes, horny as fuck.
But it was more than that. He was curious about her. Wanted to learn what made her tick. He just had to get near her first, but she’d bolstered her defenses and was locked up tighter than Fort Knox.
It was hell on his nerves. He felt as smooth and suave as a pimple-faced virgin at the school prom whenever he was around Gwen. This was not his usual MO, for fuck’s sake.
Weylin had his share of hot women. But not one of them held a candle to Gwen. Now that he had met his mate, they were just bodies in the dark. He had been open and honest with them, of course. He was Wolf, not a dog.
Dire Wolf Shifters never stayed in one place long enough to form permanent attachments. Until now. Hell, when Derrick had announced his intentions to settle down in one spot, plant roots, Weylin had initially balked.
Note to self: Send the Alpha a beef jerky bouquet and a thank you card.
Well, if he claimed his mate, maybe he would. For now, he would keep that notion under wraps. Derrick was being too much of a cockblocker to deserve any meaty goodness.
Second note to self: Send myself a beef jerky bouquet because I am awesome, and I am gonna win my mate.
Yeah, that was more like it! Weylin could not be more grateful for his Pack setting up shop in this little slip of a town in New Jersey. This place had presented him with something to work for. A goal. His mate.
Mine.
Gwen’s natural strawberry scent reached his nostrils, and his lips flexed in an easy smile as he breathed her in. So tempting. Sweet. Fresh.
“Ready,” she said, excitement ringing in her voice.
“All done?” he asked as she finished pouring the last drink into a martini glass.
It was a twist on a lemon drop martini made with a brand new local label, Crescent Moon Gin. It was a new branch of the Bite label owned and operated by Mason Lane, a member of the Macconwood Wolf Pack. Good people. Good Shifters. And the guy made fantastic spirits far as the Dire Wolf Pack was concerned.
“Yep. All done. Lemme know what you think,” Gwen replied, biting her lip as he sipped drink after drink, washing his mouth out with water between sips.
Weylin was a consummate professional. Fated mate or not, he had to take his job as a co-owner of Serious Moonlight, er, seriously. He opened his senses before each sip, allowing the depth of the flavors, the essence of the alcohol, and the ratio of sweet, tart, and bitter to filter through as he tried each one.
Holy, Fuck. The woman was a rockstar.
Mine.
“Shit.”
“Shit?” she asked, frowning hard.
“No, no,” he blurted. “I meant it like, shit, girl, these are fantastic!” he told her with a grin.
Just like that, his sassy sweet Gwendolyn lit up before him. He’d be a liar if he said it meant nothing to him, that way she had of glowing at the smallest of compliments. He’d bet she wasn’t used to them, and damn, but he wanted to change that. She deserved compliments. Lots of them.
“Really?” she asked, her lips turned up in a mirror image of his own expression.
Weylin nodded, his heart warming at her obvious pleasure. He liked she was so happy when he complimented her. Wanted to see what else he could say or do to bring that look of joy to her face, that hint of radiance to her caramel eyes.
“Truly. You nailed them!”
“Yes! Okay, so do you think I can handle the back bar tonight?” Gwen asked.
The back bar was Lucy’s usual haunt, and since Gwen was filling in for the Alpha fem, Weylin did not have an issue with it. She’d been tending bar the last three nights beside Sheila and the she-Wolf had nothing but glowing reports on how the curvy little normal had handled herself. Apparently, her sassy mouth was a source of amusement with the females of the Pack.
Takes one to know one, he mused. Not that he’d be saying that out loud. Those Pack females scared the shit out of him. Any sane man would say the same, of that he was certain.
“Think you’re ready to go it alone? It’s Saturday, you know. Our busiest night,” he told her.
“I’m ready, and you know I need the tips,” Gwen replied, no guile in her voice.
He knew she was working hard to pay for her Pop’s care. Hell, he wished he could just give her the money, but it was too soon for that. He tried hinting at a loan and she damn near turned to ice. He read between the lines. Gwen would not take any handouts from him.
“Alright. You can take the lead in the back bar. I’ll be checking in on you from time to time, but don’t be afraid to call out if you need something.”
“Okay, but if you come back here, who will handle the front?” she asked.
“Saturday, remember? Me and Cole will both be at the front bar, but I’m manager tonight. If there is an issue, I will deal with it.”
She had her hands on her hips but was listening to everything he said. If he didn’t know any better, he would think she was a Shifter the way she practically growled at him with her normal little voice. She had grit, that one. Grit and sass, and fuck, was it sexy!
“You’ll be keeping tabs on me. Got it,” she said. “I won’t let you down.”
“You couldn’t if you tried,” Weylin whispered and rubbed the back of his neck.
Tonight was going to be a long one. He probably needed to let the Wolf out before the crowd started coming in. Weylin was shifting into his Wolf every night, but he was staying outside her room and that was not the same as running.
The animal needed to let off some steam. Usually, his choices were to shift and run in the woods or find some woman to fuck when he got this antsy. He didn’t want anyone but Gwen, and she was nowhere near ready for physical intimacy, so shifting to his monster won out.
“Oh, my shirt came in,” Gwen told him with a grin that stopped him in his tracks.
She was so damn pretty. Her hair was down, and curls were raining down her back and shoulders, so bouncy and sexy. He was dying to feel them between his fingers. Wondered if they were coarse or silky. He would bet on the latter, but damn, wouldn’t he love to find out for sure?
His attention was snagged by Gwen as she held up the teeny weeny excuse for a t-shirt that Sheila had ordered her. Weylin frowned hard.
Fuck.
There he was, hoping he wouldn’t have to smack anyone upside the head tonight, but it looked like that plan was flying right out the window. The woman was fine as fuck in baggy tees and cotton pants. But he had forgotten all about the Serious Moonlight uniform—if you could call it that.
Thank you very much, Sheila. Fuck.
“Hey, you don’t have to look like that. It will fit me,” Gwen retorted.
Her posture had gone ramrod straight, and the scent coming off her was bitter, like she was angry or hurt. Fuck. She was obviously mistaking his momentary pause for something it wasn’t. But that was all his fault. He should have explained better.
“Hang on a second, Gwen⁠—”
“No need. I understand by your expression what you are thinking, but let me tell you something, people come in all shapes and sizes.”
“Gwen, I think you misunderstood, and I know that’s my fault, but if you just let me⁠—”
The woman was not letting him get a word in edge wise, and fuck, it was difficult for him to stay focused. Her eyes were bright, and her hair was flying as she waved her hands around as she spoke in true New Jersey fashion.
“I know the shirt looks small, but Sheila said it stretches. And yes, I realize I am a big girl, but that is no one’s business, but mine. I have tended bar before, and let me tell you something, Mr. Body Beautiful, my boobs usually detract from my belly, so you don’t have to worry about me. I will do just fine with your customers. The rest of me will be behind the bar. I won’t embarrass you or the business,” she said each word with a hushed fury that both startled and turned him on.
Damn, but she was feisty. Gorgeous in her fury, too, but she had it all wrong.
“Gwen, I gotta tell you, I have no idea what you are talking about,” he growled.
“Listen up, because I will only say this once. Words have power, and I believe in being kind to my body and my mind. Now, I realize I don’t look like you all, but can I help it if I wasn’t blessed with whatever superior physical genes your entire friend circle was blessed with? I mean, I have never seen so many tall, muscular, good-looking people in one place in my life. But that doesn’t mean I will shame you when I put on the uniform⁠—”