He headed through the door marked office, Payson on his heels. Kontra paid for one, double queen room, and returned outside.
“We sharin’ a room, boss?” Payson said from where he strode next to Kontra on his right.
Kontra smirked as he took in his friend’s amused expression. He shook his head. “You really think you’re going to get lucky in a small town like this, Payson?” he teased.
Payson chuckled. “Vail would,” he pointed out.
Laughing, Kontra thought of the mate-shy wolf shifter in his pack. “Yeah, he’d probably manage it, somehow.”
Vail had traveled with Kontra’s gang for nearly fifteen years. In that time, he’d established himself as the gang’s playboy. Wherever they went, the wolf shifter somehow managed to pick up a cute twink to have a bit of fun with for the night, but only one night. The shifter refused any commitment outside his gang friends. Kontra had no idea why. Most shifters wanted to find their mate. Vail claimed the exact opposite, saying he hoped never to find that fated one-and-only.
Kontra opened the door and tossed his saddlebags on the bed nearest the door. He turned and grinned at Payson. “Tell you what. If you find someone to…entertain tonight, I’ll get a second room.”
Payson snorted and rolled his eyes. “Right. Let’s go get something to clear this road dust from our throats.”
“Sounds like a great plan,” Kontra replied. He stepped out of the motel room and swept his gaze over the nearby storefronts. Spotting a pub-style eatery advertising the best buffalo wings in the state, Kontra pointed toward it. “That work?”
Payson shrugged. “Sure, boss.”
Kontra led the way down the street to the corner, then crossed and strode into the bar. His sight adjusted nearly instantly to the dimmer light, and he headed toward a back corner booth. Payson made a stop at the bar, most likely to order a couple of beers.
Settling on the seat, Kontra stretched out his legs and relaxed, sighing deeply. The short walk and real seat felt nice after riding his hog for ten hours, with only the occasional stops for fuel to break the monotony. The corner of his lip curved up slightly as he watched Payson head his way with a beer in each hand.
Payson set one in front of him, then slid into the booth, moving halfway around the U-shaped seat so his own back was toward the wall and he could look out. Kontra picked up his glass and clinked it against Payson’s.
He took a healthy swig, then hummed his pleasure as the cold, dark brew slid down his throat. “Very nice,” he murmured appreciatively.
His buddy winked and took a large gulp of his own beverage. They sat in companionable silence as they perused a tall, narrow card listing offered eats on one side and drinks on the other. It was typical bar fare, fried onion rings, hot wings, potato skins, and greasy burgers. Kontra licked his lips. Perfect!
“Hey, gents,” a waiter greeted him. “What can I get for you?”
Kontra glanced at the man, taking in his broad shoulders hidden under a black t-shirt, his engaging smile, and the friendly light in his brown eyes. He might have been surprised the man didn’t appear wary of him, but the guy stood around six three and looked like he could handle himself. Their waiter, and most likely the owner of the joint, if Kontra didn’t miss his guess, probably didn’t run into much he couldn’t handle on his own.
Returning the guy’s friendly smile with a slight curve of his lips, Kontra said, “I’d like a double cheeseburger with bacon, heavy on the pickles, light on the mustard.” He tapped his menu and added, “How about some potato skins, too.”
The human grinned. “You won’t be disappointed.” He turned and lifted a brow at Payson in silent question.
“I’ll take the same on the burger, but add mushrooms and jalapeños to mine,” Payson replied.
Their waiter nodded. “You got it.” He glanced between their half-finished beers. “Gonna need refills with the meal?”
“Maybe even before that,” Kontra replied, finally giving the human a true smile. He liked an attentive waiter.
The man laughed and nodded. “I’m Shep. Just holler at me when you want it and you’ll have it in a jiff.”
“Thanks, Shep. We’ll do that.” Kontra lifted his mug and tipped his head in thanks before taking another swallow.
Their skins came quickly, along with another round of beers. Dipping the greasy, tasty morsel in sour cream, Kontra brought it to his mouth and took in half. He moaned in delight. Delicious! Seconds later, he swallowed the other half.
“Oh, that’s good, boss,” Payson muttered around a pleased groan.