Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)(62)

“A week is too soon, Isabelle.”
“Do you think moping around the house will put me in better spirits? Do you know why I like a service job, Jericho? It’s because I love people. I enjoy laughing and hearing their stories of family and travel. I like building friendships and thinking of them as…”
“Family. That’s what you mean, isn’t it? You like working there because it starts to feel like a home. Maybe a pack.”
I quieted, stilled by the truth that flowed from his lips. I’d never known what it was to live in a pack, and it intimidated me like nothing else. Someone with my history wouldn’t fit in or be accepted by others. I grew up outside a pack and came from a mixed home. My job had always given me the acceptance I needed, and if it didn’t, I could pack up and leave.
“Go on, Isabelle. Jump in the shower, and after you feel rested, you can shift in my room. Take as long as you need. You don’t have to make all these heavy decisions right now, dig? Just take care of yourself,” he said, pressing a small kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be right here.”
 

Chapter 14
“Two number twelves and they want them atomic!” I yelled into the kitchen, handing the cook my order slip.
Jericho couldn’t prevent me from going back to work a few days later. He tried, but I knew if I sat around the house any longer, I’d be miserable. The marks on my wrists hadn’t faded, so April took me shopping and bought me trendy wrist cuffs. They were lacy and ran halfway up my forearm, almost like a glove. I chose the black to go with my sleeveless work shirt and had already received a few compliments on them. The fading marks around my eye were easily concealed with makeup, but a few men looked a little closer and didn’t care for what they saw.
Most male Shifters won’t tolerate abuse against women. Table nine looked ready to corner me and demand to know who did it, so Rosie took over my section while I relaxed in the back.
I was beside myself when Denver handed me a cheeseburger on a plate and sat down across from me. He apologized for having mixed things up. I couldn’t blame him; the way the maid had described it, I would have come to the same conclusion.
In any case, we were square. I liked Denver—he was easygoing with a nutty sense of humor. Denver didn’t have an endgame of finding a mate from what I sensed, but he loved to flirt. It seemed like a few of the Cole brothers had commitment issues.
Rosie strutted toward us and delivered a skeptical look. “Are you sure you’re okay, hon?”
“Let the girl eat her cow patty in peace,” Denver said.
She put her hands on her hips. “Such a smart mouth on you. I’ll be sure to tell the cook what you think of his hamburgers.”
“I’m fine, Rosie. I’ll be better when everyone stops asking.”
“You let me know if you need anything,” she said, wagging her finger as she went back to the bar.
The main door swung open, and a cacophony of shouts burst into the room. Three men ambled up to the bar to order drinks—men I didn’t know—so I told my heart to slow down. Some childish part of me thought Hawk might rise from the dead and come after me. Maybe that’s why people have funerals—the mind doesn’t seem to accept death unless you see the body with your own eyes.
“How’s the room at the house working out, honeypie?” Denver asked, twisting the wrapper off a white peppermint.
“You guys have been great. I really appreciate it.”
Everyone had a chaotic schedule, so I stayed in my room and rarely saw most of the pack.
“Maybe you should come eat with us.”
I shifted uncomfortably and touched the lace on my wrist. “That’s a family thing. I’m just going to stay out of your hair until I find a place of my own. If only these guys would give me better tips.”
His face darkened, and he flicked the wrapper on the floor. “Are some of the customers holding out on you?”
I waved him off. “You know how it goes, Denver. I’m the new girl and—”
“Bullshit.” He kicked back his chair and towered over the table, gripping the edges. “If someone tips low, I want you to signal me at the bar and let me take care of it.”
“I don’t want to cause trouble because then they won’t sit in my section.”
“If they want to keep coming back here they’ll sit in your section. I’m serious,” he said as he walked off. “Signal me.”
I took another bite of my cheeseburger and washed it down with a sip of tea. Just as I moved to get up, Wheeler eased into the chair across from me.
He always wore sleeveless shirts, so the first noticeable thing was his tatted arms—all kinds of designs that blended into a canvas of art. It didn’t look like he’d brushed his hair or trimmed his beard. He looked like a pirate, but in a good way. Especially with his bright eyes that were a pale shade of brown, like a glass of sweet tea warming in the sun.