Alpha's Moon (Shifter Ops 1)

Rafe falls into step beside me. “Once you saw Sears with her, you couldn’t get over there fast enough. Is he bothering her?”

“Yep.” I don't say anything else, but Rafe can probably hear my teeth grinding.

“You didn’t punch him in the face. Pretty impressive restraint.”

“Yeah, I should win a prize.” I rub a hand over my face. Seeing Sears with Sadie made me want to shove the guy’s head in his trunk and slam the door down on him. Repeatedly. And then throw her over my shoulder and carry her back to my place, caveman style. For protection.

And orgasms. I want to give Sadie Diaz all the orgasms. Enough pleasure to make her forget that guy ever was in her life.

“You wouldn’t really visit her classroom, would you?”

Rafe shrugs. “Why not? It’s community service. We have to give something back to Taos.”

“Do you think that’s smart?”

Rafe turns to me. He tilts his head. To his credit, he takes the question seriously. “What do you think, soldier? You think your wolf can behave around a bunch of five and six-year-olds?”

I swallow. I think I can keep my wolf reined in but don’t want to promise anything. “Probably shouldn’t risk it.”

“Objection noted. But if we go, you’re coming with us. I won’t let your wolf get out of line. And I think it’d be good for you.”

I nod, shocked.

Then my alpha points a finger in my face. “But stay away from Sadie Diaz. That’s an order.”

My wolf growls, and I stifle it before the sound can rumble out of my chest. “Yes, sir,” I say stiffly.

“It’s the right thing to do, Deke. Humans aren’t for us.” He searches my eyes before nodding and walking away. I follow more slowly.

Humans aren’t for us.

I could argue with him. There are a few wolf shifters we know who have mated humans. Not that I’d ever call them up and ask them how it works. It doesn’t matter, not in my case.

I’m too feral to ever be trusted with a human female. Especially not one as gentle as Sadie.

Sadie

As soon as I’m home, I take out Rafe’s card. Black Wolf Security. It lists his name, Rafe Lightfoot. There are two numbers, office and cell. After a second of hesitation, I call the office. A recorded woman’s voice invites me to leave a message, so I leave my name and number and the details of the career day.

A minute later my phone vibrates with a text. “This is Deke.”

I grab my phone and clutch it to my heart. This is exactly what I hoped would happen when I left a message on the office phone instead of calling Rafe directly. I know Deke gave me his number, but after the way we left things last time, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear from me.

“How did you get this number?” I type out and send before I get nervous and delete it.

No answer.

“Just kidding. I was teasing. I’m glad you texted,” I type quickly.

Still no answer.

And then my phone rings. I fumble with it and almost drop it before I answer.

“Hello?” My voice is breathless like I’ve just run a marathon and then up a flight of stairs. Which is exactly what I’ll tell Deke if he asks why I’m out of breath—that I just got back from a run.

“Babe,” he drawls, low and deep, and I feel it in the pit of my belly.

“Hey,” I say with a smile in my voice and collapse slowly backwards onto my bed. “You got my message.” I’m too excited to tease him about it.

“Happened to be in the office.”

“I hoped you’d get it.”

He makes a low rumbling sound. A chuckle? I can’t tell. I bite my lip before I blurt out that I’ve selected him for my rebound fling. So much for playing my feelings close to the chest.

“Thought you were calling Rafe about a career day not me,” he chides gently.

“I was. But maybe I wanted you to get my number.” My insides scrunch with my boldness. It’s not like me. It’s like I’m braver around Deke. Or my feelings are too strong to hold in.

After a pause, he says in a rougher voice, “I already got your number. The night I gave you a ride.”

“Oh right, you’re one of those tech guys who can figure everything out.” It’s my turn to chide. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“You didn’t give me your number directly. And you’ve already got a stalker.”

“You’re not a stalker,” I say quickly. I don’t like the dark, almost painful tinge to his voice. “So, I get the feeling your biker peeps don’t like me.”

“What?” Deke asks after a pause.

“Your peeps. Friends or posse or whatever.” I dance around calling them a gang. They seem tighter knit than friends, more like family. Brothers. I remember what Charlie said about them being in the service together.