Finn nudges him with the toe of his boot. “Do you need anything before we head back to work?”
Seeing me set down the backpack with his cell phone in it, Deek shakes his muzzle side to side, just once.
Finn bends down to pat him between his held-low ears. “All right. Take care. You know how to reach me if you need to.”
With that, Finn takes me by the elbow and starts to steer me to the door.
But I stop. “Hang on.” Finn releases me easily, and I turn back to Deek, dropping down to my knees and petting his ruff. “You know, Maggie said you were only there to bring something to Charlotte. Thank you for that. That was really nice of you.” Not sure what else to say, I grab either side of his cheeks and bring his head up so that I can kiss him on his big nose.
For one second, his shocked eyes meet mine. But they dart away just as quickly, and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, so I let him go. “Bye, Deek.”
To my surprise, he turns into a man. A very, very naked man. He stays crouched in an obvious bid to protect his modesty.
Quietly, he says, “Thank you. And Susan, I…” He shakes his head. “Have a good rest of your shift.”
His eyes are level with mine now, and he glances at me just long enough to catch my smile.
He answers it with the barest, weakest curving of his own lips—but he’s smiling back at me. He’s looking at me while he does it—and something low in my center stirs nicely.
Slowly, I stand back, giving him a last wave. I join Finn at the door, not noticing his appraisal. Not catching the considering glance he turns on Deek.
And I definitely miss the way Deek shakes his head stiffly, eyes down, an act of guilt-ridden negation, before he turns werewolf once more and sprints for the basement.
CHAPTER 23
SUSAN
Before I make it to the door, Finn excuses himself to thump down to the basement to have a private word with a clearly defeated-feeling Deek. But then he’s leading the way to his car and he drives us back to work, where I punch in and head to the hostess station so they know I’ve returned and I’m ready to take tables.
It’s a busy afternoon. I’m rubbing my sore wrists, thinking I need to start wearing a wrist brace to save me when I have to carry the large food trays, when Finn snags me off the floor.
“Kelly, can you take the floor for a minute?” he calls out.
“Sure thing,” she replies, confused.
And I share her puzzlement. “What’s up, Finn?” I ask. “It’s kinda crazy right now. Kelly is going to get swamped if I don’t—”
“This won’t take long,” he assures. “And in about two minutes, you’re going to take her place and send her over here. Take this.”
He holds out a white washcloth.
I take it. “Okay—”
That’s when I realize it’s not a washcloth. Holding the little thing in my hand, I see it has tiny straps, and it’s… an itty bitty tank top. I shake it out and find the pub’s logo emblazoned across the left breast—a wolf head silhouetted in front of a full moon.
“Thanks?” I say. “With Deek’s fur coat, we’ve got the house set to sub-zero so I’m more likely to wear sweaters to bed, not tanks, but—”
“That’s not for bed,” Finn cuts in. “That’s your new uniform.”
I stare at him. I swallow. “Like… this goes under a shirt?”
He gives me an affectionately patronizing smile. “No.”
I stare at him harder. My fist is squeezing the tank top so sternly it should puff into thin air, it’s tiny little self-pulverized. “Please be joking.”
Finn tips his head and his lips curve up in a wide grin. “Not about this.” He jerks his chin at where I’m gripping the thing. “Do me a favor and don’t crumple that shirt up just yet.”
“This isn’t a shirt!”
“The ink is fresh: I just got it from the printer’s shop next door. They’re doing up a bunch for us. Costs us eighteen dollars a go.”
I gasp and bring the tank top up. “It costs eighteen dollars? For this?”
His eyes drop down to the level of my breasts. My breasts, which aren’t used to being publicly displayed in tank tops that cover less than bathing suits. While I lean over tables and across customers to deliver food and drinks. This is a disaster. “It’s going to