looked at him, even while telling him he was ridiculous or that he had bad taste in suits. It made his blood hot, driving him crazy, and at the same time he had the feeling she truly did not like him, which made the whole thing at once confusing and exciting. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Yet, this time, he wanted to go to her for solace. He wanted to take her out for a drink and just talk, not banter. He wanted to tell her about the wolves, and the worry that was a constant itch under his skin. But they didn’t just talk like that. They chatted lightly, playfully antagonizing each other until she demanded he leave or she went on a break or he caved and left by himself.
They weren’t friends.
He found himself wishing they were, and instead of going to bother her, Connor brooded on his own. He resisted the urge to talk to Eric and Nathan about the wolf thing quite yet. He had to keep in mind that him talking about a problem was different from the others talking about a problem. If the alpha was worried about some troublesome wolves it was a real issue, and they would make a big deal out of it. Better to keep it to himself for now, just until he knew for sure if it really was an issue or not.
After dinner, Connor retired to the guest lounge. There was a good crowd and some of them recognized him. He was forced to chit-chat with some of the important guests, making sure they felt special, before finally finding a dark booth to himself with a glass of that brandy he liked.
When Connor spied Brooke walking through the door, he brightened up quickly. He waved her over and saw her hesitate, standing frozen in the middle of the lounge. She had changed into her regular clothes; her jeans hugged her hips and her ass. Her cozy red sweater fell slightly off one of her creamy white shoulders. Connor’s mouth watered.
There was a group of businessmen at a table and one of them whistled at Brooke. They were already half-drunk. She sneered at them and sighed, heading straight for Connor’s table. Rage mixed with the alcohol shooting through his blood. He was nearly overtaken by a desire to punch the whistler for even daring to come at Brooke that way, but he resisted. He took it as a good sign that she was headed this way.
“You’re joining me,” Connor stated firmly, feeling far too pleased as Brooke sat across from him in the booth. He waved the bartender over.
“Not like there’s much choice,” Brooke said, gesturing at the rest of the lounge. It was pretty crowded, but Connor did spy a few empty seats Brooke could have taken and felt his smile widen.
The bartender came over. Connor nodded at Brooke, who ordered a gin and tonic. Then it was just the two of them.
Connor threw back a sip of his brandy and said, “You seem tense.”
She huffed; her jaw clenched. Her head tilted to the side, eyes flashing in a way that reminded him of a wolf shifter. He shook the thought off; he was trying to take his mind off the wolf shifters, not continue to obsess over them the way he had all day.
“Just some...family stuff,” she said, sighing. “I have a young cousin. Told him to stay out of trouble, but did he listen? No. He’s going to get us all…” She glanced up at him as if only just realizing he was there. “Nevermind.”
“Oh, I know how that is,” Connor said. “My brothers, they’ve been better since they all fell in love, but even now they’re not exactly easy.”
“Exactly,” Brooke muttered. “I just… It’s hard being in charge sometimes.”
“Are you in charge?” Connor said, tilting his head.
“Maybe not here,” Brooke’s cocktail came and she took a long swallow. He watched her shoulders drop and her brow relax. “But in my personal life, yeah. With family I’m definitely in charge. I don’t mind it. It’s just a lot sometimes. A lot to be responsible for.”
“I know how that goes,” Connor said easily.
“No, you don’t,” Brooke said, and he looked up in surprise. “I mean I’m sure you think you do. But you have more money than you could possibly ever need and you’re powerful. You have nothing to worry about. You don’t know what it’s like at all.” She glowered at him, lips