Chapter 1
Kris
Although it was Kris’ first day as a bartender at Drunk Monk Tavern, it was not her first day as a bartender. She’d been in the business five years, using her bar keep skills to get through college. Now she was back in school, starting a master’s degree, and in need of quick cash. She was hoping this new bar would fill her pockets with tips.
The place didn’t open for another hour, but she arrived early to complete her new hire paperwork and start training. Her trainer, Leah, was nowhere to be found. The boss told her to hang out until Leah arrived, but Kris hated sitting still. She knew her way around a bar and found this one particularly easy to navigate. She started prepping the mixers and garnishes.
“Hey! What are you doing back there? Staff only, dumbass.”
Kris put down the knife she’d been using to cut limes and turned to the feminine voice. Tightly coiled, white-blonde curls, red corset top and lots of ear piercings. “You must be Leah. I’m Kris, new hire. Ben told me to wait until you got here, but I figured I’d make myself useful.”
Leah frowned, scrutinizing Kris’ bare shoulders and arms. “A new hire?”
“Ben said he told you,” Kris replied, hearing the defensiveness in her tone as she crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t know what Leah had been staring at on her arms. She wore a black tank top and black studded jeans with boots. She didn’t have an overly impressive chest or any tattoos.
Leah kept eyeing Kris’ arms with a frown. “He told me he hired someone . . . I just didn’t expect someone like . . . I thought you were one of. . . Never mind.” She shook her head, curls bouncing. She finally made eye contact with Kris. Her blues were hard. ”Word of advice: if you want to be useful, follow instructions. I love a coworker that wants to help, but lesson number one: do what you’re told and don’t make assumptions, ok? Don’t assume you know what people want or what will be ’helpful’. That’s a quick way to piss off our VIPs, get me in trouble, and get yourself fired. ’Kay?”
“Got it.” Kris let out a slow exhale. In her experience, every place always had that one bitch that had to feel important. Looks like she found the one at this job. “So, who are the VIPs around here? I don’t see any special seating.” She nodded her head out at the tables.
The place was one large room with open seating. Taller, smaller tables lined the walls while larger, shorter tables filled the floor. Everything had the same cozy, rustic feel. Various animal heads were placed on the walls as trophies. Red and black plaid curtains framed all the windows. And so much wood: wood furniture, wood floor, wood walls. The ceiling fan blades? Wood. Kris half expected the plates and silverware to be wood as well, but they were traditional dining ware, albeit a bit worn down.
“Eh, it’s more of an informal thing,” Leah muttered as she looked over the prep work Kris had started. “You did good on this but stay away from the botanicals here. Eighty percent of your customers are going to want beer on draft or whiskey neat, nothing too fancy or flowery. Not even cocktails. Once in a blue moon you’ll get a human ask for that, but rarely.”
Kris about choked on her gum. “Did you say a ’human’ will ask for that?”
“Oh, sorry.” Leah grinned sheepishly and blushed. Her eyes darted around before leaning in. “That’s what we sometimes, rudely, call our non-VIPs, you know, the mere mortals amongst the living gods. The puny peasants. The wasted wannabees. The humble humans.” Leah’s eyes teared up and she put on the most pitiful mask of despair that Kris had ever seen, yet her tone remained dreadfully sarcastic. “We’re such a sad, poor lot.”
“What are you talking about?” Kris laughed. Most places also had a crazy person, but it wasn’t often that the crazy person and the competitive psycho were the same person.
Leah just waved her hand, her expression turning back to one of pretty annoyance. “Welcome to Drunk Monk Tavern. You’ll get used to it soon,” she answered flippantly.
The front door to the place opened and in walked a gorgeous 6’2” male specimen. His hair was short and brown. Most of his face was hard to see in the dim lighting, but Kris made out a full, well-groomed beard that reached halfway down his neck. He wore a simple, black V-neck tucked into dark jeans with black cowboy boots. His clothes hung to him nicely, showing off his thick muscles. He walked smoothly across the floor, despite the heavy bulk of his body. He moved over to one of the far tables and sat down. Although the Tavern wasn’t open yet, a waitress headed to him.
Leah sighed dreamily. “Ah, perfect timing. That’s Noa, one of our VIPs. Now you look at his face and body and you tell me: god or human?”
Kris exhaled a sigh of longing as her answer.
Leah chuckled. “Exactly. And look at his left arm? You see the tattooed vines wrapping around his forearm and up his bicep toward his shoulder? If you ever have doubt, that’s how you can tell who is one of them and who isn’t. Some have black vines and some have golden tones. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know. There’s about 50 of them that live lakeside at their private estate. They get some newcomers though. I’ve been here 3 years, and I’ve never figured out who goes, who stays, or how it’s decided. They’re all over 6 foot, amazing physical specimens, and mostly male. Though there are some tall as fuck women with them.” Leah gave Kris a pointed look up and down. “That’s why I thought you were one of them.”
Kris smirked over at her. “You saying I look like a goddess?”
Leah smirked back. “From the back sure, but then I saw your face.”
“Mmm,” Kris nodded, as if in understanding. “And then you realized I was too beautiful for the VIPS. I get it.”
Leah laughed. “Yeah, something like that. Now let me show you how we run things here.”
Hours later, Kris had finished her training with Leah, who turned out to be occasionally sweet, surprisingly competent, and terrifyingly abrasive with the customers, who all seemed to love her for it. “Dumbass” was her pet name for half the VIPS.
Kris’ eyes widened in shock at the 50 dollar bill left as a tip by a hot VIP after Leah ripped into him for cutting in line.
Kris commented in awe, “The VIPs love your attitude. No wonder you don’t need any special flavors added to the cocktails. They get all this spice and flavor from your sass.”
Leah laughed. “Yeah, only girl in a family with six older brothers, if you believe it. When they’re not trying to insult you, then they’re smothering you with ‘protection.’ And being 5’2” I’ve learned how to use my mouth as a whip. Thankfully Ben doesn’t give a shit about being professional here. No, that’s not fair. He cares when it comes to handling business, but not the pretentious side of it. As long as you do your job, he gives you a lot of freedom. It’s part of why I’ve stuck around. That and the VIPs.”
“I noticed quite a few of them giving you puppy dog eyes. You dating any of them?”
“No,” Leah asserted harshly. “No dating and no fucking the VIPs.” Her voice softened, and she leaned in. “Ben would let us, but word of advice: don’t. They’re not bad people, but they are bad news.”
“Fuck. Don’t tell me their gang members or something. I don’t need anything illegal blowing up in my face.”
“No, no, no. Nothing illegal. At least I don’t think so. It’s just like a stupid boys club, like, a fraternity, except they’re not in college.”
“A fraternity?”
“Mhm. You’ve probably driven past it on the south side of the lake. You can’t see the house, but it’s that long patch blocked off from public use. The only part of the lake that has every inch by the street covered with five foot tall thorny bushes, behind which are twelve foot tall fearsome fences, behind which are fifty foot spruce trees, so wide and thick that they block any hope of peeking at what lays beyond. You can’t see much, but if you pay super close attention, you can sometimes catch one of the guys patrolling the area like a guard. And at night you can see red lights twinkling like security cameras are watching.”
Kris put down the dishes she was cleaning. She crossed her arms over her chest and saw her boss, Ben, walk over to a table to talk with Noa with a big smile on his face.
Great.
Was Ben part of whatever they were? He wore long-sleeved, button-down shirts so she couldn’t see if his arms were tattooed. He was over six foot tall and in impressive physical shape. He looked older than most of the VIPs though. His head was bald, and he had a very short, very gray beard. If it was something bad, she didn’t need to be caught up in it. With a sigh, she wondered if she would be quitting before her shift ended.
She leveled a dry look at Leah. “And you don’t think they’re doing anything illegal? Why do they need all that privacy then? Hm?”
Leah’s eyes widened briefly before her skin darkened with a blush. Her eyes cut over Kris’s shoulder. A deep, very masculine voice spoke before Kris turned to face the newcomer.
“We run naked through the woods.” Leah coughed. Kris turned and blushed herself. She was faced with a 6’2” male model. He had been sitting with Noa most of the night. Where Noa looked rough and gruff, this guy was smooth and seductive. Ice blonde hair lay in soft strands across his face, reaching his ears. His face was clean shaven, nothing to hide the pretty lines of his jaw, nose, and slender eyes. His royal blue eyes made her melt. “It’s our land, but someone could try to charge us with public indecency if we’re seen. Does that sound illegal to you?”
Kris swallowed thickly, trying desperately not to imagine what he was suggesting. His clothing was like Noa’s: tight, black V-neck shirt and well-fitting dark jeans. What she wouldn’t give to see his ass. She forced herself to keep her gaze on his. “You run naked through the woods?” Oh no. Her voice had cracked. That wasn’t embarrassing. Not even a little bit.
I am definitely quitting tonight. I can never show my face here again after that.
“The whole group does. It’s invigorating in the winter and freeing in the summer.”
Leah must have known his regular order because she placed a cold pint of beer on the bar top without him ordering it. He nodded in her direction before leaning toward the bar in front of Kris. His finger trailed a droplet of condensation down the side of the glass.
“A creek runs through the property, thanks to the lake. Nothing better than sweating a storm in the summer and jumping into the private creek to cool off and clean up.”
He caught the droplet and brought it to his mouth, indecently wrapping his lips around the finger, sucking the water off with a seductive smile. Kris inhaled deeply at the image before her and the image of a group of naked, muscled men splashing in a creek. Were they gay? Was he messing with her? Her face betrayed her skepticism.
He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me?” Bracing his hands on the counter, he slowly looked her up and down, licking his lips purposefully. “I bet you could run. Every now and then we like a little game of . . . chase.” He winked. “It’s exhilarating knowing there’s something to catch. You should join us. I’ll introduce you to the guys and several new experiences.” His grin could only be described as wolfish.
“Jay!” A deep, new voice snapped sharply. His tone was commanding, reprimanding. “Go back to your table.”
Kris bit her lip at the sight of the behemoth who stalked over toward them. He didn’t stop a few feet away, which would have been polite. Instead, he crowded into Jay’s space, forcing Jay back and away from Kris. Her jaw dropped as she beheld the giant before her, her gaze flicking between him and Jay. If Jay was 6’2”, then this man had to be, goodness, 6’6”? 6’7”? Kris was 5’11 and she felt tiny next to him.
Jay straightened his spine with confrontation in his deep blue eyes.
The newcomer must have seen the protest building. He cut it off by placing a large hand on Jay’s shoulder and squeezing. Jay didn’t flinch, but Kris swore she heard something crunch.
“Not this one,” the giant ordered firmly.
Jay grumbled something Kris couldn’t hear. He grabbed his beer and left without another word or a final look to Kris. Now was her time to get a look at his ass, but all she wanted to do was look more at the new guy.
He was so . . . large. Massive. He was massive. Everything about him was imposing and impressive. Long, dark blonde hair that fell to his pectoral muscles. A dark brown beard added a beautiful frame to his jaw, but it was short enough that Kris could see the hardened bone structure beneath. Like the others, he wore what must be their uniform: black V-neck shirt and dark jeans.
“You’re new here,” he commented. “Did Jay say anything that made you uncomfortable?”
Kris bit the inside of her cheek and answered breathlessly. “It will be sad day whenever talks of naked men make me uncomfortable.”
The giant’s full lips quirked into a smile at her response. She smiled back and couldn’t help her perusal. Her eyes fell to the flowing black and gold lines of vines and leaves covering his entire arm. His tattoos were by far the most intricate and complex of all the ones she had seen on the other VIPs.
“So, you’re one of them?”
His face darkened and his golden eyes flicked to Leah, who made herself scarce. “Them? You’ve been here all of five minutes and already people are filling your ears with tales?”
“Don’t small towns survive on gossip and scandal?”
“I’ve always been partial to fresh air and minding one’s business.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“It’s peaceful.” His deep voice was quiet and soft, cutting through her attempts at playfulness to something serious and real. Kris eyed him up and down, knowing she should get back to work, but no one was coming to her for orders. Everyone seeming to keep their distance with this guy here. He looked intimidating. His voice was strong, his body burly, and his whole persona was thrumming with energy.
“You don’t seem like a peaceful type of guy.”
“I’m not.” His gaze followed her expression closely. “Which is why I value the little of it I manage to find.”
She didn’t expect him to say that. She was intrigued by him. And he came across like a no-nonsense guy in charge. “Ok, you also seem like a straight shooter. . .” He nodded once. “Tell me this, your group or club or clique—”
“Pack—”
“Or whatever”
“Pack.”
“Or pack . . . Is working here going to bite me in the ass? I’m not asking for details. . . But you want peace. I want safety. Are y’all going to be a threat to my job security and physical safety? Honestly?”
“Honestly? There’s one detail you need to know: My name is Sol, and I’m in charge of these boys. I lead the pack. If anyone gives you any trouble, come to me. You ever feel threatened, or unsafe, or just a little uncomfortable, you come to me, and I’ll make it right. Got me?”
“Yeah, I got you.”
“Good, cos I got you, babe. And trust me, you’re safe.”
Sol
Jay and Noa flanked him as soon as he stepped outside. He sighed heavily, knowing exactly what they wanted. He supposed he ought to be grateful they were going to do it here instead of waiting until he returned to the pack house. The less witnesses the better. He put his hands in his pockets and kept on walking, waiting for them to make the first move. Just because he knew what they were after didn’t mean he had to give it to them.
“Well?” Jay finally broke the silence, desperation and impatience clear in his tone.
“No,” Sol answered.
“What do you mean no? You said ‘not this one.’ That has to mean—”
“It means nothing. She’s a human.” Sol stopped walking and turned to Jay. He spat the words, “She’s human, Jay. My answer is no.”
Jay was not to be denied. “I saw you. I saw your eyes—”
Sol stalked forward and slammed his palm into Jay’s chest, pushing him back. Noa watched cautiously from the sidelines, like always. They all knew Jay’s chest would bruise.
“Get it through your head,” Sol growled. “She is not the one.”
Sol stared Jay and Noa down until they lowered their gaze and bared their necks. With a wolfish huff, Sol stomped off toward the pack house.
Jay rubbed his chest, watching the Alpha leave as Noa came to stand beside him. “You heard him. No is no.”
“I more than heard him. I felt him when he shoved me. That no is a yes. I don’t care what he says. She is the one.”
