A Wolf in Hiding - Charlie Richards Page 0,29

start the grill.” He left through a sliding glass door.

Elroy turned to Dermot, who was putting sugar in the cup of coffee. “Is it okay to ask what he’s grilling?”

“Probably a little of everything. Steaks, burgers, brats,” Dermot told him, licking his lips. “Your friends have any dietary restrictions we should know about? Allergies?”

Shaking his head, Elroy felt his stomach rumble. He was ready for some of all of that. Then he spotted Sebastian drinking from a mug and remembered him saying he was going to get a cup of coffee.

“Vampires eat real food?” Elroy blurted out the question, then slapped his hand over his mouth. With a groan, he grumbled, “I swear it’s the meds messing with my brain to mouth filter.”

Sebastian chuckled, joining him at the table. He sat down across from him. Over the next thirty minutes, he explained about vampires.

Chapter Ten

When the doorbell rang, Dermot clenched his hand around the coffee mug handle. His heart rate spiked a little, and he forced himself to take a deep calming breath. He knew who would be on the other side of the door.

Pack did not ring the bell.

Declan had an open-door policy during the day. If it was evening, the person would call first.

That means it’s Elroy’s friends. Time to make a good impression.

Assuming they don’t recognize me.

Dixon rounded the table, heading for the kitchen. As he passed, he rested his hand on the back of Dermot’s neck. For just an instant, he squeezed, offering silent encouragement. Then Dixon was in the kitchen making himself another cup of tea.

“Want more, Elroy?” the beta called.

“Uh, yes, please,” Elroy replied. Then his attention drifted toward the archway leading to the front room. “Hey, guys. Glad you could make it.”

Camilla paused and took in the pale blue cast on his leg before letting out a soft cry and rushing toward Elroy.

It took every ounce of self-control Dermot possessed to stop himself from getting between them. Instead, he watched as Elroy’s friend threw her arms around his mate’s neck and hugged him. Hearing Elroy grunt, then hiss, he clenched his free hand in a fist.

His wolf growled in the back of his mind.

“Hey, Camilla,” Elroy greeted. “Easy does it, huh?” His mate urged his friend to unwind her arms. “Don’t jostle the leg. It’s only been a few days.” When Camilla’s brown eyes took on a hurt look, Elroy took her hands in his. “It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming.”

“Well, of course, I would come see you,” Camilla stated. She glanced around at all the people before leaning close and whispering, “Gotta make sure you’re actually here of your own free will.”

Dermot knew that if he hadn’t been a shifter, he wouldn’t have heard her whispered words. Hell, so did probably every paranormal in the room, although the conversations didn’t cease. For the most part, everyone began filtering out of the kitchen and dining area, probably to offer the illusion of privacy.

Schooling his expression, Dermot pretended he hadn’t, although it pissed him off. He reminded himself that she was just being a protective best friend.

“Of course, I am,” Elroy told her with a smile and nod. Then he turned his head and grinned. “Hey, Bart. Since you’re only five minutes early, I’m going to guess that was down to you.”

Bart laughed good-naturedly as he held out his hand. “Yeah. I wasn’t ready when Camilla came to pick me up.”

“You let Camilla drive you?” Elroy seemed surprised.

The brown-haired male shrugged his shoulders, but he scented just a smidge from embarrassment. “Well, Laura needed to take Nate to the doctor for a check-up on his wrist, and Mark was at a job, so I loaned her my car.”

While the names meant nothing to Dermot, Elroy obviously understood. He nodded in sympathy. “How is Nate doing, anyway?” Then Elroy turned his attention on him. “Laura is his sister. Nate is his nephew, and he sprained his wrist on Saturday. Mark is the husband and father.” Once Dermot nodded, Elroy refocused on Bart, who wore a smirk and was looking at Dermot.

“He’s doing just fine,” Bart stated, although his gaze didn’t stray from Dermot. Then he held out his hand. “And you must be Florence Nightingale. I’m Bart Kovmar.”

Dermot chuckled under his breath as he took Bart’s hand. “Dermot Reever,” he replied, shaking Bart’s hand briefly. “Nice to meet you. Very happy you bailed, and now I know why.”

Bart offered a sheepish look. “Glad it worked out for my buddy here.” Then he indicated