"They are," Manon said, smiling. "I do own a private copter. Perhaps I could take you up some time. Show you those views first hand?"
"I-" Fuck!"I'm not sure I could handle the heights," he finished, cringing internally at the lie. He'd never had an issue with heights and in fact loved rock climbing and repelling.
Manon glanced his way, giving him a quick, searching look. He smiled, showing off his even white teeth and killer grin. "That be too bad. Maybe you'll change your mind, oui?"
Damn, he wished he could.
"What about you, cherie. What do you do?"
"I'm a sales clerk at All Weather Outfitters," he answered automatically. Oh, damn. Now, he can find me after we break up. Then Chris remembered that Manon knew where he lived, so it was really a moot point. His pulse calmed. At least, all the uncertainty got his erection back under control.
"Ah, I know dat place. My buddy's boyfriend works there," Manon commented. "Maybe you know him? Tom Bristol?"
Chris's jaw dropped. "Oh. Yes. I know who he is. He's a … a good manager." He was also the reason Chris was stuck in this predicament in the first place. Not that he minded, for the most part. Manon was good company, sexy and sweet. Too bad, he thought Chris was a woman.
Manon turned his Camaro into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant. Before Chris could even get out, the other man zipped around the hood and opened his door for him. Chris smiled up at him, pleasantly surprised, and took Manon's offered hand. The palm against his back as Manon guided him into the place felt nice, too.
Their conversation remained pretty easy, discussing hobbies, likes, dislikes, movies, even books. They both seemed to enjoy action and comedy movies, and shied away from romance. Chris cited the fact that they were unrealistic as his excuse when Manon seemed so surprised. In reality, he just didn't like seeing all the girlie bits.
They had nothing in common regarding books since Manon enjoyed historical and science fiction, while Chris enjoyed mysteries. There was no way in hell he was going to admit that he read gay romance.
The food was delicious, the service excellent, and the company even better. Chris couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself so much. Manon's subtle flirting and occasional touches on his hand or arm set Chris's blood on fire. He wanted more, he just wished it could happen.
By the time they reached miniature golf, Chris knew his friends were right. He was a goner. He'd fallen in love with the sexy Cajun. Now, he just had to figure out how to say good-bye.
Chapter Four
Manon thought the date was going well. The perfume Chris wore made it difficult to get exact scents, but he could definitely make out the musky smell of the woman's arousal. The smell was earthier than he thought it would be, but Manon and his wolf sure liked it. His hadn't softened to less than half mast since he'd kissed Chris.
And damn, what a kiss. Manon had wanted it to go on forever, or to find Chris's bed and bury his dick inside her. He hated having to wait, but because Chris was human, Manon knew he had to do this right or scare his mate away.
Lining up his miniature golf shot, Manon smirked internally. Maman, when you're right, you're right. This will be quite the chase.
He took his shot and sank the little green golf ball. Chris laughed, the move lighting up her gray eyes. "Yo u said you hadn't done this in years. I think I've been had!"
He grinned and watched Chris line up her shot. The way her dress cupped her ass as she bent over had drool pooling in Manon's mouth and blood flooding his groin. He wanted her so fucking much.
Chris looked over his shoulder at him, and a pretty blush flooded her cheeks. She returned her focus to her ball and took a shot. Chris's ball went into the hole and she squealed excitedly.
Her eyes glowed as she straightened and grinned. I need to taste that smile. Manon crossed the distance between them, wrapped an arm around his surprised date, and claimed her lips. It was just as heady as the last time. Manon slipped his tongue into Chris's mouth, coaxing her tongue to twine with his.
She clutched at his shoulders, her slender fingers digging into his black dress shirt. Manon tightened his arm, trying to draw her closer. He wanted to feel her soft curves against the hard planes of his chest. Instead, Chris stiffened.
Manon ended the kiss and lifted his head. He grew concerned at the near panic he saw in Chris's eyes. "Hey, easy, cherie. I'm sorry. I not mean to push," he said, easing his grip. Shit! I shouldn't have pushed so hard!
Chris licked her lips and took a step back. "I'm sorry, Manon. You're a great guy, but … but this isn't going to work," she said, waving her carefully manicured hand between them.
Fear and panic flooded Manon. He shook his head. "Tell me what's wrong, cherie. Give me a chance to fix it. If you not be ready for anythin' but kissin', that's fine. I can wait," he promised. It'd be hell, but to win his mate, he'd do it.
To his disbelief, Chris continued to back away. "No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this." She was shaking her head slowly and Manon could see tears glittering in her eyes.
Manon desperately wanted to take her in his arms and soothe her, tell her everything would be okay, that whatever it was, they could work it out. But he knew she wouldn't welcome the contact, so Manon kept his distance. He lifted his hands in placation. "I not understand, cherie," he whispered.
"I'm not your cherie," Chris said softly. "I'm going to take a cab home." His mate tucked a strand of long black hair behind her ear and smiled tentatively. "Thank you for a lovely evening. I'm sorry it couldn't work out between us."
Too stunned to say anything, Manon watched his mate hurry away.Oh, maman, you did try to warn me this wouldn't be easy. His wolf howled in his mind, echoing his misery. He just needed to know more about the girl, that was all. Turning in the golf clubs and balls, Manon vowed to contact Tom first thing in the morning, if he could figure out the damn time zone differences.
Unfortunately, Manon got called into work first thing Sunday morning, which meant he had to work a double shift. He ended up leaving Tom a message.
* * * *
Chris felt miserable. He couldn't believe how much he didn't want to go into work the next day. He normally didn't mind Mondays, but since he was aware that Tom knew Manon, he feared the fallout for his mistake. He should never have accepted that date. He just prayed Manon would have moved on by the time Tom returned from vacation.
The call from Remy was just the icing on the cake. Now, he was irritable and pissed, too. Picking up his friend from a bar on Sunday night was not how he'd envisioned spending his evening. He'd much rather be nursing his broken heart with a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
Pulling up in front of the little dive Remy had heard catered to gays on Sunday nights, Chris swept his gaze over the front of the building. He sighed when he didn't see his friend. Damn it!
He turned the engine off, rolled down his window in an attempt to enjoy the evening breeze, and pulled out his phone. Chris dialed Remy's number with one hand while drumming the other on the car door.
The trill of his friend's cell phone caught his attention. He could just make outWeird Al's voice singing White and Nerdy. Chris looked around again, frowning. Where the hell was the ringing coming from? The alley? He groaned. Surely, Remy didn't go around the corner with a stranger.
Shoving open his door, he hit redial and followed the sound. Right before he rounded the corner, Chris heard a whimper and the sound of flesh on flesh. And it wasn't the good kind of sound. Chris sprinted around the corner and immediately spotted his friend.
Remy was on the ground, kneeling, with three men standing over him. His arms were wrapped around his mid-section and blood oozed from his nose. As Chris watched, a blond man pulled his leg back and kicked Remy in the side.
"Hey! Get away from him!" Chris yelled. A man with dark hair looked his way and sneered, immediately judging him. "Oh, look. Another fucking fag. I think we should teach this one a lesson, too." He and another man, this one with lighter brown hair and hard blue eyes started toward Chris.
"Run," Remy gasped, right before the blond back -handed him, sending him sprawling.
Instead of following his friend's advice, Chris dialed nine-oneone on his phone. The two men reached him before the line picked up. The first man knocked the phone from his grip. He screamed for help as a fist crashed into his face. Pain exploded through his temple. A kick to his knee sent him to the ground. Chris didn't even try to fight back. He just curled into a fetal position. Before he blacked out, he heard the sound of sirens, and he smiled through split lips.