The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 150: Chapter 150

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
Hank’s brain had been seesawing between the overused curse word and the equally obnoxious, single-syllable word that had been stuck on repeat since he met the beautiful feline—mate.
Only, inside Hank’s overly obsessed mind, it was more like mate, mate, mate, slight pause, then, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Both words operating on alternating channels of repeat in his now throbbing head. What was he supposed to do in this situation?
Really, he should be pissed at Uncle Uzzi. The elderly Witch knew better than this. He was a stubborn bastard at the best of times, but did he have to bring this female into all this mating nonsense?
Hank had promised his parents, and that was the end of the discussion, as far as he was concerned. Fated mates had never been part of their infrequent chats. Of course, when he thought back to the cold relationship that existed between his mother and father, he cringed.
He could not recall a single memory where his parents held hands or behaved with affection towards one another. They hadn’t even slept in the same room. A fact he’d forgotten until just then.
A quick glance in the rearview, and he noted Annabeth looking out the window. Lost in thought, she was relaxed and oh so lovely. He took a moment to study her features.
Her oval face was so beautiful. Perfectly symmetrical, drawing his eye effortlessly. She had a stubborn little chin and a smooth, blemish free complexion.
Her eyebrows had the cutest little arch, and that bow of a mouth had him thinking dirty thoughts in no time. The things he would love to do to and with that mouth.
Dear gods.
Kak kak kak.
His Falcon agreed wholeheartedly. The raptor intent on staking his claim on the sexy little minx. When the little Lioness had mentioned her heat cycle, his cock had immediately stood at the ready.
One sultry, seductive mate in her heat? Why, yes, please. I will take her!
Why the hell wouldn’t he relish the thought? Just think of the little golden furred and spotted feathery young they would have! A beautiful mix of healthy, happy, well-loved offspring. And fuck yes, he knew immediately, she would be warm and loving to her young.
Maybe if he was lucky, to him as well.
Sure, it was way too early to assume the emotion for himself. She did not love him. She did not know him. But he knew instinctively she would love their babies.
Just as he would. He would never want his children to grow up in an affectionless, cold home. A home where the parents could hardly stand each other, much less, the offspring they’d created.
Like our home, supplied his Gyrfalcon.
Fuck.
That wasn’t true. Was it? And if so, why would he doom his children to the same fate?
Hank shook his head to clear it of all these unwanted thoughts as he pulled into Big Bob’s Hotel parking lot.
The Moose Shifter had a very peculiar sense of humor that led to his place resembling a sort of road sign cemetery. In other words, the guy stole road signs.
Sometimes, folks brought them to him, and he hung them up on the exterior of his joint. He sure loved a good joke, and Hank appreciated his sarcasm. As far as roadside hotels went, it was not luxurious. But it was clean, and the food was good.
“Big Bob’s Hotel?”
Hank stilled, waiting to hear derision or anger in her voice, instead, he was gifted with a soft snort as she laughed into her hand.
“Ha ha! Does that sign say ‘God’ and is it pointing up?”
His lips quirked up in a smile as Annabeth continued to read, and laugh, and yes, she snorted again too. What could he say? The sounds were adorable, and he might have slowed down so she could look her fill.
“Yeah, Bob is a character. His wife Rosa runs the diner.”
“Really? Good. I am starved,” she unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out of the car before he could open the door.
That kind of rankled his animal, but then she sighed and stretched, bending over in those short shorts to touch her toes. Her peach-shaped ass thrust out and his chest rumbled appreciatively. There was nothing compared to this woman’s shapely legs and curvaceous body.
Hubba hubba.
He growled again, hiding it with a cough when she whipped her head around. Honey-colored strands danced in the night air, like golden tinsel and her eyes glowed with her beast for a second. He was sure he saw her smirk before she straightened. The little minx knew exactly what she was doing to him.
Grrr. So let her already, his raptor insisted, but Hank shushed the animal.
After he convinced her he had it, Hank carried her luggage firmly in his hand, He also withdrew a package wrapped in brown paper from the trunk and walked beside her to the small building labeled office. The huge Moose Shifter was sitting behind the desk apparently sleeping, but his shaggy head shot up, and a smile graced his rough looking features the second he spied Hank.
“If it isn’t my favorite prince of the peacocks! Get over here,” growled Bob, pulling Hank into a hug, and lifting him clear off the ground.
“Ooof!” he muttered. “Put me down, you big Moose! Bob! Here, I got you something,” Hank grumbled, but he was grinning as he handed the brown-wrapped package to the giant.
“Looks like you got me two somethings,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at Annabeth, who blushed prettily, and giggled.
“Now, don’t you go gettin’ me in any trouble, Big Bob,” Annabeth laughed, and it was like wind chimes sounding happily in the breeze.
“I hear your Rosa is the best cook in these parts, or she would be if she had the best products.”
“How do you mean?” Bob’s smirk faltered as he unwrapped his gift.
The Moose took a moment to admire the road sign that read Mount Maverick: Only Folks with a sense of humor are welcome, because our Mountains Are Hill Areas.
Bob grunted a sound that was close to a laugh, then turned to the sassy little Lioness just as Annabeth started her pitch about Eat Well Live Proud. Hank had to hand it to her. She had grace and finesse, and she knew when to push and when to back off.
The fact she was smiling up at Bob and charming the pants off the Moose shouldn’t have bothered Hank. Especially not when Bob’s features softened, and he stared starry-eyed at the little minx.
The man was old enough to be her father and mated to boot. But Hank’s raptor still chirped incessantly. The Moose was too close to the female, too interested. Jealousy was not a good look on Hank.
He closed his eyes to count to ten—remember the yoga breathing.
Fuck. Off. His Falcon snarled.
Hank tried again to quell that possessiveness he’d started feeling over the pretty woman. He had no rights or claims on the female. But fuck, he was not expecting to be this easily riled by her.
“I see,” Bob replied when Annabeth was finished explaining all about her company’s offerings.
“Tell you what, I’ll get you guys a key for your room. Then you and Hank here can head over to Rosa’s for some grub. If she says yes, you got our business,” he winked.
“That’s great, Bob, but we need two rooms,” Hank supplied.
“Oh,” Bob said scratching his head.
“Sorry, I assumed. Gee, this is embarrassing,” he grumbled, “You see, the thing is, there’s a soccer tournament in town, and I am fully booked. Only have the one room left.”
Hank stilled. His Gyrfalcon whistled appreciatively, the sound morphing into a growl at the prospect of being alone with the curvy Lioness.
This could not be happening. He was already hard pressed not to pin her against the wall and have his way with her, but that would probably lead to all sorts of complications. As attractive as he found the female, she was not for him.
Confusion, lust, and a constant threat to undermine his overall peace of mind had Hank standing there like a moron, instead of answering his longtime friend. Bob scratched his head and cleared his throat again, but Hank just could not move for the life of him.
It was Annabeth who smiled brilliantly at the Moose and took the key, nodding her thanks. She also grabbed her roll-along suitcase from his feeble grip and walked, angrily, if her ramrod straight back was any indication, outside to the room they would have to share. Number one eleven right on the ground floor.
Fuck.
“Uh, thanks, Bob,” he muttered and hurried after her.
The seductive sway of her hips was hypnotic as she hurried along the concrete walkway. He knew from the set of her shoulders she was pissed, but the sour note of embarrassment that marred her otherwise delightful scent brought a hint of shame to him.
He’d done that to her. Put her in this impossible position, and he had no idea how to apologize for it.
“Annabeth,” he said her name once she arrived at the door to the hotel room.
“I’m sorry⁠—”
“That’s great,” she said flippantly, with her back to him. “You’re sorry. As usual. And I am hungry. Also as usual,” she added with a self-deprecating chortle.
“What does that mean?” he asked, baffled. “Was that some kind of remark about your weight? Annabeth, there is nothing wrong with you⁠—”
“Hank, please, I just can’t take this right now. I’m going to go grab something to eat. You can join me for dinner or not. That’s entirely up to you. I don’t want to hear what you think about my weight or my person, or anything about me right now. Be sorry or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going to stow my bags and walk to the diner.”
Her eyes were glowing, and fuck, she looked beautiful. But he’d hurt her again, and he’d never felt so low. This was an impossible situation, and Hank did not know what to do.
“I can sleep in the car,” he offered, though truthfully, he did not look forward to the prospect.
“Like I said, your call,” she replied, and left her suitcase against the wall, strolling past him without looking back.
Shit.
That could’ve gone better, he mused as he dropped his bag and walked after her. He had to hand it to her once again. Outwardly, the feline looked completely unruffled.
She smiled cheerfully at the few people milling about outside. There were a few kids in soccer gear accompanied by their parents. They were loitering around the parking lot and courtyard, kicking a ball while the parents hung out.
Fathers mostly. Without their wives. Males who seemed to think they could ogle his curvy little Lioness while their kids were busy dribbling their balls up and down on the sidewalk.
Hold up, he frowned.
She is not my little anything.
Is too.
Mine, his raptor insisted.