“I guess,” Jason said, not meaning it in the least. Because until he knew for certain that Riley wasn’t interested, he could still pretend there was a possibility.
“As for what to wear, those dark-wash jeans of yours show your ass off pretty damn well,” Jesse said.
Jason stared at him, astounded and appalled. Jesse was Matt’smate. Matt would tear Jason apart in an instant if he eventhoughtabout noticing Jesse that way.
“What? Can’t blame a man for looking,” Jesse said with a wicked grin. “And don’t sweat it over what to say—ask about his book if you can’t think what else to do with your mouth.”
Jason’s cheeks were warm again as he took a gulp of Dave’s tea. Even drinking something that tasted like dead leaves and stale raspberry syrup was better than telling Jesse he didn’t have a clue what he was doing when it came to sex. He was extremely familiar with the mechanics—he’d watched enough porn in his time—but there was all the difference in the world between watching and doing.
“Thanks, Jesse,” he said after a while, because somehow, Jesse’s lack of concern over the whole thing had helped. It was just showing a guy around town and answering his questions. And maybe asking one or two of his own, because he’d really like to find out more about Riley. Like, was he in a relationship? How long did he plan to be in town, and would he stay forever? Important stuff like that.
“Maybe you just sit there and tell me what to do, before we end up eatin’ the table,” Jesse said, taking the knife and uncut onions away from Jason. “Reckon my ribs will have caved in before you get to cooking anything.”
Mention of Jesse’s ribs totally didn’t lead Jason to imagine how Riley would look with no shirt on. He’d be tanned, the way his arms had been when he’d taken his jacket off and turned up the sleeves on his white button-down, and his muscles would be well defined, because that much had been clear from where his jeans clung so nicely to his thighs. Perhaps Jason would be able to touch that smooth skin and maybe even lick him, because he looked like he’d be lickable. And then Jason thought about licking him elsewhere. His stomach swooped, his mouth dried, and damn it, he was getting hard.
Heat crawled up his neck at the realization. He’dneverreacted this strongly to a real person before. Actors were different—safe, untouchable, easy to fantasize over in the privacy of his room. Them, and the kind of guys who sold razors or protein powder or smiled from travel ads, all shirtless and tanned and perfectly out of reach.
But in real life? In the past, guys he’d thought hot had always turned out to be arrogant, or didn’t tip, or had something else wrong with them, like maybe they hadn’t washed properly or were mean to their girlfriend. That first instant of attraction always fizzled straight out again.
Nothing had ever hit him like this. Not until Riley.
Even hisnamewas doing things to Jason’s body, making it hard to breathe.
“Reckon some alone time before dinner might be a good thing,” Jesse said quietly. “And then a shower, or Bryce’ll be up in your business all night.”
Which was a less than subtle way of letting him know that Jesse could scent his arousal, and if he could, the rest of the pack sure as hell would. Jesse was right—Bryce, their self-appointed expert when it came to sex, wouldnevershut up about it.
Burning with mortification, Jason pushed his chair back and slid quietly from the room, heading for his bunkhouse and privacy. Most of the time he loved being part of a pack, but right now, he’d give anything to be on his own in the middle of the Antarctic. He should be grateful for Jesse letting him know, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this embarrassed. Unless it was this afternoon, when he’d been so fixated on a pair of blue-gray eyes that he hadn’t a clue what Riley had ordered and had to go ask him.
When he’d come to Matt’s ranch and become a member of his pack after such a miserable, lonely time on his own, Jason had finally found his balance again. A pack. A place. People who never judged him for all the ways he fell short of being a wolf.
He’d never been able to let go completely of his quiet, wistful hope that maybe—maybe—he’d meet his mate one day. But he was a realist. With a pack this tiny, and Jason being who he was, it wasn’t going to happen. He’d told himself that so many times that he almost believed it. Still, sometimes, in the dead of night, he caught himself hoping, just a little. But it wasn’t like Jason’s mate would walk into the diner one day andboom—fireworks, rose petals, love at first sight and a passionate clinch in front of everyone. He knew that, and most of the time, he was fine with it.
Riley’s invitation had shoved him off balance again, knocking loose the calm he’d fought so hard for. A calm where he’d almost managed to forget how he’d longed for someone to look at him andchoosehim. To love him.
Even though he knew that was never going to happen.
Chapter Four
RILEY
The next day, Riley presented himself at the sheriff’s office in the center of town. He’d waited past midday, hoping that would give enough time for news of his presence to spread so he wouldn’t be cold-calling the sheriff.
The old red-brick building wasn’t exactly imposing, but the instant he stepped through the door, he realized how misleading that impression had been. Fluorescent strip lights blazed overhead, leaving no shadows, nowhere to hide. The sharp, chemical bite of printer toner hung in the air, mingling with the scent of stale coffee that had been left too long on a hotplate. The entire place seemed designed to discomfit and expose the guilty. Or maybe it was just Riley’s nerves making him feel that way.
The woman behind the desk met him with the same close scrutiny as the motel owner, her gaze piercing. She had the brusque, efficient air of someone who’d been running things foryears. He introduced himself and explained he was hoping to talk to Sheriff Urban about crime statistics for Elk Ridge.
“You couldn’t look that up online?” she asked, her eyes sharp through her half-moon glasses.
He bit back an exasperated sigh. She evidently didn’t miss a thing. “Well, of course Icould, ma’am,” he said, dialing up the charm, “but I was hoping, if the sheriff isn’t too busy, that by talking to him I could get a feel for the facts behind the figures.”
She made a distinctly unimpressed-sounding noise and told him to take a seat, while she went to see if the sheriff could be disturbed. He did so, looking around him. There were three untidy desks out here, all of them currently unoccupied, and then there was the scarily organized one that the woman had been sitting behind when he’d arrived. The nameplate on it saidJanice Underwood.
The door to the sheriff’s office opened again, and he looked up with a hopeful smile on his face.
“You’ve got five minutes,” Janice said. “And no more. Sheriff Urban’s a very busy man, Mr. Clark.”
Whatwasit with the people in this town and the way they told him what to do? He kept the smile on his face, picked up his messenger bag, and took a deep breath. It was time for him to meet the alpha of the pack.
