Protector Wolf

Somehow his words, and his now-challenging expression, definitely turned Maya into the one who was irritated. Maybe she should tell him she already had plans and go find Trev again.

But she really wanted to tell them about her night and at least find out if they’d heard the wolves.

She first hurried toward Rocky. “Good morning, boy.” She greeted the friendly wolflike dog by patting his head and scratching behind his alert ears. “And, no.” She turned to face the men. “I haven’t had breakfast yet. I’ll be glad to join you. I had a very interesting evening and would love to tell you about it.”

“And we’d love to hear about it,” Ryan said. The expression on his face didn’t change.

“How about Andy and Family’s?” Piers gave the name of a restaurant Maya had noticed a couple of blocks from the hotel, the opposite direction from the park.

“Sounds great to me.” Maya strolled around Ryan to stand beside Piers. She’d walk beside him, and hopefully Rocky, too, till they got there. Her conversation with Piers was likely to be a lot friendlier than if she spent the time with Ryan. Although she’d like to understand why. “Let’s go!”

Chapter 5 (#ue3d16736-dda2-590d-85ee-109b922a7ca1)

As he walked along the sidewalk behind his three companions toward his upcoming breakfast, Ryan wondered if this was a good idea.

Oh, yes.

What he’d really wanted to do, upon first seeing the lovely, upbeat—and foolish—woman was to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and tell her she could have been killed.

But he would give too much away by doing that. No, he’d have to be a whole lot more subtle, yet still find a way to get that chastisement across to her.

The sky was somewhat overcast this September day, the air a little brisk, although it would warm up later. He felt warm enough now, though, partly because of his suppressed anger—and concern.

What would have happened if she’d been attacked by the wolves? Those wolves would have undoubtedly been considered feral and dangerous and possibly hunted and killed.

And would Maya have survived such an attack? To his surprise, that mattered as much to him as—maybe more than—whether the wolves who might be fellow shifters would have gotten out of the situation okay.

They reached the restaurant. Unsurprisingly, Andy and Family’s was family style, and on this Friday morning it was crowded.

“Hey, there are a lot of people here,” Piers said unnecessarily. He’d turned to look back at Ryan, clearly giving him the opportunity to decide to go elsewhere.

“The food must be okay.” Ryan gave a brief nod to his aide. He was fine with staying here to eat.

“Probably.” Piers glanced toward Maya, who was still beside him, but instead of giving her the opportunity to say no Ryan moved past her to the glass front door.

Sure, they’d have to wait even to tell the people seating customers how many of them there were. But at the moment, having a lot of people around to eavesdrop on, after last night and the full moon and those howls and barks, could be pretty interesting.

And maybe he and Piers would be able to determine what to do next, who else to get chummy with, to confirm that at least some of those wolves were shifters.

They needed to go chat with the people they’d suspected were shifters anyway. If they had more ammunition, all the better.

But he believed he had a good idea of the wolves’ human identities thanks to their scents while he—and they—were shifted.

Would the Sharans be here for breakfast today, for example? It didn’t matter. Ryan had believed it was their scents he’d smelled last night. But he wouldn’t confront them here anyway.

He’d also had Piers check online to learn if there’d been any indication that the media—those who’d claimed to be members yesterday at Maya’s talk or others—had mentioned Maya, or last night’s wolves, in any paper or blog or broadcast somewhere but he had found nothing. Not yet, at least.

“What’s the wait time?” Maya asked the middle-aged lady holding menus who’d come by to check on how many people there were in each party.

“We’re pretty fast,” the lady said. “Probably no more than five minutes. You can wait right here and we’ve got an area on the back patio where we can seat you with your dog.”

Five minutes up here, in the crowd, with lots of gabbing people even before they took their seats. That could work in their favor, Ryan figured.

“Let’s wait,” he said, looking first at Piers. He turned to Maya and asked, “Are you okay with that?”

“Sure,” she said, then repeated, “Let’s wait.”

* * *

Standing behind the rest of her group in the waiting area line leading up to the rows of tables, Maya couldn’t help looking around at this crowd. The place resembled nearly every other busy family style restaurant she’d ever eaten at, with servers in the aisles and tables filled with people of all ages, some dressed as if they were heading to work on this Friday morning, and others as casual as she was in her shirt and jeans.

No, not all ages, she contradicted herself. The kids were fairly young. Their older counterparts might already be at school for the day.

But the conversations created a low-key roar, and she also heard the clink of silverware on plates and the clunk of glasses on tables.

Hey, if she didn’t know better, she’d wonder if her visit with wolves had elevated her own senses the way theirs were—like her hearing. But she had no doubt they’d enjoy the aromas around here more.

In fact, she looked toward Rocky. Sure enough, his canine nose was elevated and sniffing and—

She glanced up to find that Ryan was smiling at her, and this time it seemed genuine. Surely he couldn’t read her mind...could he?

“You hungry?” he asked. “I am.”

Apparently he couldn’t—although his question was definitely pertinent here. And her answer, partly thanks to the low-level aromas she could inhale, was, “Me, too. This is a good place to be hungry. But what about Rocky? Will he also eat here?”

“He had his breakfast back at the inn,” Ryan said, “but I won’t be surprised if he talks one or more of us into giving him some of what we’re eating, too.”

“Bet on it.” Piers was also smiling but his gaze drifted around the busy dining area as if he hoped to glom on to a table they could request. Which would have been unlikely even if they didn’t have Rocky along, since, although a few more people had been seated since their arrival, there were still a couple more groups ahead of them.

Maya made herself tear her gaze away from Ryan’s great-looking, angular face with just a hint of beard shadow, as if he hadn’t fully shaved that morning. Though those dark brown eyes looked a little tired, they seemed to be studying hers. Why? Hadn’t he slept well—and had he been out looking for wolves? And now, was he trying to figure out if she was telling the truth, that she really was hungry?

Absurd. And yet she thought she sensed some kind of question, or message, in his expression.

Her mind began churning around possible ways to lead into a conversation with him, get him to reveal what he’d done last night and what he was thinking. But before she got very far the restaurant hostess invited the last groups ahead of them in line to follow her.

They should be next to get a table—at least assuming the patio area designated as appropriate for Rocky to join them had a vacancy.

Rocky. He’d been sitting, examining the air around them and behaving like a well-trained dog, despite his resemblance to wild wolves. But something, maybe the movement of the people ahead of them, apparently got his attention, and he stood.

Ryan immediately tautened the leash attached to his collar, drawing closer to the dog. “Easy, boy,” he said.

Maya noticed then the people hurrying toward them from between the nearest tables, people who’d been at the bar yesterday and indicated their support of what WHaM stood for. The Sharans. Kathie and Burt, right?

Kathie was ahead of Burt and she looked first at Rocky, then at the people with him.

“Hi,” the short, attractive woman said as she reached them, smiling toward Maya. “So you brought that adorable dog who resembles the wolves you talk about to breakfast with you?” She moved her hand slowly in Rocky’s direction as if making sure he knew she was friendly.

Rocky started to rear up on his hind legs, but Ryan, pulling the leash gently and also pushing him with his other hand, got him to settle back down. “Sit, boy,” Ryan said, and the dog obeyed, though he began sniffing the air even more than Maya had noticed him doing before. Interesting. She didn’t smell even a hint of a difference in the food aromas around them and wondered what Rocky smelled.