“I’ll explain later.”
The air was warm and heavy with scents. We descended the stairs single file, Angie clutching the railing as the dim light made them almost invisible to her.
Downstairs, the cantina stretched across the finished basement. The last time I was here, the place was little more than a man-cave. Someone had put a lot of work into upgrades since then.
Three pool tables filled the far end of the room. Hazy overhead lights were added to create a warm, cozy atmosphere. A wide shelf behind the bar created space for bottles to be neatly organized, and there was also beer on tap.
Bev gave us a friendly wave from behind the bar, her blonde ponytail swishing back and forth. Dustin and Ross returned her greeting. I forced my chin in her direction, not wanting to spare her another look.
Angie wasn’t a she-wolf, but I wasn’t going to give her any reason to feel jealous. Bev wasn’t the most subtle with herflirtation, and even though I always turned her down, it didn’t stop her from trying.
Like many older shifters, she was desperate for a mate. The more dominant and strong, the better. She spent years waiting for her fated mate, only to end up disappointed. Now, she was on the hunt for a chosen mate.
I watched my brother sidle up to the bar, giving her his most charming smile. I hoped Dustin knew how serious she was in her search.
Angie stepped past a collection of small tables, spinning on her heel as she took in the space. There were still Christmas lights hanging off the speakers on one side of the room, the reflection glowing blue and red in her irises.
“Am I hearing Shakira?” She inclined her head toward the speakers. “I haven’t heard this song since I was in high school!”
“Trends are slow to make their way this far north. At least they finally stopped playing 80s music.”
She unzipped her coat, tossing it at me as she wiggled her hips. A grin spread across her face, and I was torn between wrapping my arms around her to feel her move against me, and throwing her over my shoulder to drag her back outside.
It was a Wednesday night, so the cantina wasn’t as packed as it could be, but there were at least half a dozen unmated males scattered throughout the space, and I couldn’t handle the thought of them looking at Angie.
“This is so cool!” she said, snapping my attention back to her. “I can’t remember the last time I did something fun.”
I exhaled slowly through my lips, bracing myself for an evening of fighting my wolf. Angie wanted to stay, so we were going to stay.
I dropped her coat over the back of a chair, pulling it out for her to take a seat. Ross and Dustin rejoined us, dropping four bottles on the table.
I snatched one up before Ross could take a drink, glaring at it. “That had better be a root beer.”
“Oh, c’mon. It’s just one.”
“Your whining is proving my point. Did Bev serve you a real beer?”
“She knows I can handle it,” Ross said, pressing his shoulders back.
He was tall, and he might get taller, but he still had filling out to do. As much as he wanted to keep up with us, he wasn’t ready.
I gave Dustin an accusing glare. “You bought it for him.”
“Like you weren’t drinking beer when you were eighteen.” Dustin rolled his eyes. “Quit the papa bear act and relax. We survived just fine while you were in Seattle.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and I didn’t miss the edge to his words. Something was going on with my brother, and sooner or later I needed to confront him about it.
I swiped three of the four beers off the table, carrying them back to Bev with a sigh. She approached me from the other side of the bar, brow furrowed.
“Something wrong with your drinks?”
“Did you know you were serving beer to my little brother?”
Her gaze zipped around the bar. Guilty. “Dustin is supervising him. Just one here and there.” She wet her lips, the nervous energy from her wolf making mine feel irritated.
I spent so much time with dominant alphas in Seattle that I’d forgotten how to interact with more submissive shifters.
Softening my voice, I asked, “Can you make us a couple of those blue mocktails Ross likes?”
