McQuade: The Lone Wolf Takes A Mate (7 page)

“Rose
, this grinning buffoon is Briggs, a gigantic pain in the butt.”

“Don’t
listen to him, honey. I bring nothing but pleasure to a woman, no matter how we might be doing it.”

He
winked and Rose felt her cheeks grow warm when she realized what he was insinuating. McQuade growled, drawing her attention. He looked…odd.

He was proba
bly regretting staying so long.

“Well, t
hank you both for changing my tire. It saved me a lot of time and trouble.” Maybe she could keep the spare on for a few weeks and postpone getting a new tire if she only drove when absolutely necessary. She recalled the sensation of being watched when she’d left her apartment this morning and just now as she returned home. Nope, scratch that idea. She was getting a new tire as soon as possible.

“Oh, you’re
very
welcome, sweet thang. If there’s ever anything else ole’ Briggsy can do for you…”

This time McQuade’s low growl brought a wide smile to Brigg’s face.

“Um, I can make some coffee if you both would like some.” She also had a few chocolate chip muffins left over from her baking yesterday. They weren’t nearly as good as her chocolate cake, but they weren’t bad. Wanting to escape McQuade’s watchful eye, she turned toward her kitchen. It was a small space with a fridge, stove and sink and not much else. The coffee maker was slow and had a tendency to kick on and off. Most days she didn’t bother with coffee at home since she could snag a cup from the nurse’s lounge at the hospital.

“S
ounds great, Rose.” Again it was Briggs who answered her. McQuade stood in brooding silence.

Wh
at was he thinking? Was he regretting fixing her tire, coming over today or rescuing her altogether? His continued silence made her palms sweat. She wasn’t good at the male-female dynamic, having zero experience in that area. “I have some muffins, if you’d like some.”

Great. The fat woman was trying to ply two of the most amazing-looking specimens of manhood she’d ever seen with food.

Like that would work.

“Even better.”

Briggs again. She watched as he slapped an unusually stiff McQuade on the shoulder before following her to the small kitchen, where he stood in the doorway. He was almost as tall and broad shouldered as McQuade, but he did nothing for Rose. He was looking at her with such puppy dog eyes, though, she couldn’t help but smile at him, which seemed to upset McQuade even more.

“I’ll just
get them—the coffee and, um, muffins....”

“We don’t have time for coffee.”

McQuade’s gruff tone stopped her as she reached for cups. Bringing her hand down, she gripped the countertop, waiting for the inevitable ‘so long’. She really didn’t want them—him—to leave.

Stop it, Rose,
she chastised herself, slamming the door on the intense emotions churning inside of her. She barely knew the man. Building romantic fantasies around him was surely going to get her poor heart in trouble.

“Oh, yes we do
,” Briggs rubbed his hands together, his grin growing wider. “It’s been a long day.”

Rose looked from one man to another. She didn’t want to be nosy and
ask what they did, but she couldn’t help wonder what they did do, how they spent their days...and nights. Her eyes went helplessly to Briggs’ face.

As if he could read her thoughts, Briggs offered,
“We’re enforcers for our pack.”

“En
forcers?” Rose questioned, her brow furrowing thoughtfully. She really knew very little about wolves and shifters in general. Other than patching up one or two of the younger ones over the years at the hospital, she’d never really had reason to discover more about them.

“Kind of like police officers
, sweetheart,” Briggs explained patiently.

“No,
” McQuade snapped. “Not kind of. Exactly like police officers. We deal with the same senseless shit they do.”

Rose’s
heart plummeted. So that’s why he’d been so quick to help her last night. She was nothing more than a responsibility—a carryover from a job that came as natural to him as breathing. He’d simply felt responsible for her. Her safety. That was all.

“Geez, McQuade.” Briggs admonished him
with a look that told Rose he was as surprised by McQuade’s tone as much as she had been. “Have manners much?”

Rose
sent the man a grateful look, then turned back to the cabinet. She was going to serve the coffee and offer the muffins freely. Her emotions, on the other hand, were going back under lock and key before she made a great big fool out of herself.

She poured the two cups of coffee and pushed a small jar of sugar across the counter. “I, umm, don’t have any cream.”
She gave an embarrassed chuckle. “I haven’t had time to go to the store.”

“No problem, babe,” Briggs winked at her. “Real men drink their coffee black.”

Rose grinned at the big man. He was nice.

“Are you working today?” The gruff question from McQuade wiped the smile from her face.

She looked down at her scrubs covered with a day’s worth of hospital grime. “I just got off for the day. I work four on, three off.”

He nodded.
“Go get your coat and I’ll drive you to pick up your car.”

She hesitated. The man plainly did not want to have anything else to do with her. Should she swallow her pride and allow him to help her for a just a little while longer? Thinking of her bank balance
, she realized she didn’t have a choice. She offered another small smile and turned on her heel and headed for her bedroom. “Help yourself when it’s done. I’ll only be a minute.”

The sooner she got this done, the better. Then she could put a certain
surly, yet swoon-worthy wolf right out of her mind.

And pigs would learn to fly.

She went to move past McQuade, but he didn’t step aside, forcing her to edge around him, her front brushing his side. Once inside her bedroom, she let the shiver that had started as soon as her body touched his roll over her. The man was potent.

As soon
as she left, McQuade opened the cabinet where Rose had reached to retrieve the cups for the coffee. Both mugs were chipped around the edges and bore the stains of years of use. The cabinet held two other mismatched mugs, a couple of plates and bowls, a pan with a loose handle, a beat-up old skillet and not much else. There were no dirty dishes in the sink and no room for a dishwasher in the tiny space. He opened the other cabinets and let loose a long string of low curses. All he found was a half-eaten box of cereal and a few cans of vegetables.

Briggs, catch
ing on to his friend’s machinations, opened the fridge, scanning the meager contents quickly. Then the freezer. There was hardly any food in the house. “Daa-aamn.” The word was drawn out.

McQuade shut the last cabinet. “My sentiments exactly.
What the hell is she eating?”

“Not much by the looks of this.”

McQuade thrust his hands through his hair, feeling an overwhelming urge to pound something.

Briggs ushered him away from the cabinets.
“Come on, man. This isn’t something she’d want either of us to know.” He looked around the small space then picked up a round container near the coffee pot. “Didn’t she say something about muffins?”

McQuade’s
wolf growled and he knew his eyes flashed gold. Outside of protection, the feeding and care of a mate were top priority. Anything or anyone who hindered that was considered a threat.

Briggs laughed at his
friend’s predicament. While McQuade might still be denying Rose’s importance, his wolf was apparently fighting to claim her, with or without the man’s cooperation. “Down, boy. I’m sure there’s plenty in here for her.”

McQuade grabbed the
open tin from his friend’s hand. His lips tightened when he saw there were only two muffins left. Replacing the lid, he put the container back where Briggs had found it. “That’s not the point.”

Briggs leaned against the counter and took a drink of coffee. He
grimaced at the taste. The beans were old and the flavor was horrible. “What is the point, pal?” He nodded toward the bedroom where Rose had disappeared. “I thought she wasn’t even a potential fuck.”

Before he could stop
himself, McQuade’s hand closed around the other man’s throat and, just like that, his wolf was in control. He didn’t know which surprised him more, the fact that his wolf had taken control so quickly or the fact his friend was actually laughing.

“Damn
it, Briggs.” McQuade dropped his hands, shoving back to lean against the wall.

“Don’t sweat it, man.” Briggs poured the coffee
down the drain and turned off the ancient pot.

It took less than ten
minutes for Rose to reappear. She’d pulled on a clean pair of jeans topped with an oversized green sweater. She’d simply brushed her hair, letting it fall from the center part to brush against her cheeks. She wore no makeup, not trying in the least to impress him. He smiled and she shifted uncomfortably as he continued to stare

McQuade
couldn’t stop himself. He remembered what she’d looked like at the bar. He’d first seen her—and desired her—when she’d looked like a drowned rat. Now she looked like the picture of sweet innocence.

And he only desire
d her more.

“You
really don’t have to do this,” she said. “Changing the tire for me was enough. I mean, you have no idea how much you’ve helped already.”

McQuade had a pretty good idea
. She lived in a ratty little apartment measuring no more than ten feet by ten feet over a smelly garage. She had a beat up love seat–a full size sofa would never fit–the boom box he’d discovered last night when she was taking her bath, an end table and two small bookcases.  She must really love to read because she had a lot of books. Some were text books she’d no doubt had to use for her nursing classes, along with several tomes on history, religion, self-help, and mythology. One shelf held a variety of paperback books. A few were sci-fi, mystery, and crime drama. Most, however, were romance novels with half-naked men and beautiful women gracing the covers. None of them were new. Nothing in her apartment was new. He was glad he’d taken the time to replace the tire. He’d actually replaced two. He’d wanted to replace all four, but thought that would be overdoing it just a tad.

Besides, if he’d replaced all four,
she’d be more likely to discover what he’d done.

“Let’s go.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Rose protested one more time, wishing there was another way. She could tell from his attitude he really wanted to be done with her.

“Shut up, Rose
, and get your keys.”

She
snapped her mouth shut, biting back the urge to tell him to go to hell. Her pride was in shreds, but she had to accept this one last favor. She was used to doing things on her own, for herself. She’d never had anyone else to depend on. Besides, once she got her car back, he’d be free of her for good.

The thought did not cheer her the way it should have.

“Hey, easy, bro.” Briggs protested again on Rose’s behalf.

Mc
Quade glared at his best friend. He knew he was being a dick, but couldn’t help himself. He’d never felt this way before—like his skin was too tight, binding him, while his wolf fought to be free. His entire body tingled as if he was standing too close to an electrical current.

On top of all of that, he wanted to hurt something—or someone. A bar fight would be just the thing. Unfortunately, they weren’t anywhere near a bar or any other type of trouble.

Wrong. Trouble was standing there looking at him with big brown eyes.

Not bothering
to answer Briggs, he took Rose by the elbow and ushered her out the door, holding her arm tightly as they ascended the rickety stairs. Another damn thing to worry about. How was he supposed to keep her safe when everything around her was a disaster waiting to happen? With a scowl that matched his dark mood, he directed her to the black SUV parked in front of her building. Opening the door, he gestured for her to climb in. When she hesitated, he heaved a quiet sigh as humor washed through him, turning his scowl into a smile.

How could one woman wring so many emotions out of him?

“What’s wrong, shorty?”

Rose blinked, disconcerted by his sudden change in attitude.
“Hey, I can’t help it if the whole world is made for giants.”

With apparent ease,
McQuade lifted her, setting her on the expensive leather seat.

“Thank you.”

Her voice was notably breathless, the husky timbre making his dick stand at attention. When she reached for the seat belt, he pushed her hands aside and clicked the nylon strap in place. This close to her, he could smell her arousal. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her sweet fragrance, intertwined with his scent.

The urge to taste
her had his head moving infinitely closer.