Dodger crossed his arms over his chest and considered how he was going to handle this one. Through the window, he could see the pretty lady had turned in her seat and she and her mother were watching them with matching confused expressions on their faces.
He should’ve just walked away. He’d learned over the years that was the best way to handle these situations, but Delta was so confused, and she was genuinely nice, and she worked across the street, and he didn’t want her losing a favorite lunch spot.
Dodger stood and grabbed his menu off the table, and strode right past the woman, yanked open the door and waited for Delta.
“What are we doing?” Delta asked, her voice wrenched up an octave.
“Eating inside today,” he said gruffly. He tilted his head. And Delta, bless her, got a steely look in her eye and stood, grabbed her own menu and her jacket and then stomped right past him. “Bar,” he advised her. There was an open door near it where a couple men were unloading a delivery truck into a big fridge, so he had an escape to try and keep his wolf calm, and the cold breeze would save them from the heat.
Pissed, he pulled out his wallet as Delta sat down on a bar stool. He threw down a hundred-dollar bill and told the bartender, “We’re werewolves, we want no trouble, we’re just hungry, I will give you a hundred-dollar tip to just get us food and a couple beers and then we will leave this place like we found it.”
The guy behind the bar had frozen with his eyes on the cash but defrosted enough to look over Dodger’s shoulder at the server. “I’m taking these two.”
“Seriously?” the server asked in a shrill voice.
The guy sighed and looked at Delta apologetically as the rude one stormed off through the kitchen door. “She’s new.”
“Thank you,” Delta said softly. “We really don’t mean any harm.”
“You’re fine. I’ve seen you in here before. What can I get you?”
“Three beers,” Dodger muttered.
“Oh, I don’t want beer,” Delta said. “I have to work.”
Dodger pulled a face. “Those are for me. Order your freakin’ iced tea, I don’t care.”
Delta blinked hard, and looked at the non-alcoholic section of the menu, then ordered a peach iced tea. Yack. He would rather drink piss.
“We can’t serve three alcoholic drinks at a time,” the bartender explained.
“I’m walking two of them over to the table behind us for those ladies.”
“Oh. That’s cool then.” The bartender poured three draft beers of their specialty they brewed in house, and Dodger did as he’d said, and took two beers back to the table by the window.
He nodded to the mom. She had the same pretty eye color as her daughter. He set the pair of beers down in front of them and swung his attention to the woman from earlier. “Thanks for being nicer than most people in this town.”
She looked like she wanted to say something, but her lips parted, and nothing came out.
He didn’t need a thank you. Dodger walked away. Honestly, he had no idea what had possessed him to do that. He’d never bought a human a drink in his life, but her being genuinely kind outside was a stark contrast to how the server had treated them, and good deeds deserved rewards.
Even if it had been a prank, or a joke she and her mom were pulling on him, at least he felt good walking back to Delta.He cast the server a glare as she came out of the kitchen with what looked like a manager. That manager didn’t want any of this smoke though. He lowered his gaze immediately and said something under his breath to the server.
Yeah, that’s what he thought.
Irritated, Dodger took a long drink of his cold beer and set down the half-empty glass. “What do you want?”
Delta sighed. “You’re manners are atrocious.”
“You called me at the crack of dawn, telling me you need to talk to me. Telling me it’s important, so I took two hours off work to be here, in this human restaurant, conversing with humans. That feels pretty rude to me.”
“I want to talk to you about the tension between you and Nathan.”
“Oh my God, really?” He chugged the other half of his beer and nodded when the bartender glanced his way. Another, yep. He needed another if he was going to do an emotions-talk with this female. “Tell me what you want to tell me.”
“Well, actually I wanted to hear about your feelings.”
“Shoot me,” he muttered, and looked over his shoulder at the woman near the window. He should’ve asked her name.
