Silver-Tipped Justice(4)

He must have stared too long, for suddenly, Tim found the guy’s gaze fixed right on him. Tim bit back a gasp when he saw the man’s eyes narrow. Tim flushed as he watched the ruggedly handsome biker’s dark-eyed gaze sweep down his body and back up again.

Tim couldn’t guess at the man’s thoughts, and wasn’t sure he wanted to. A fucked-up shifter he might be, but that didn’t mean punches from some homophobic biker wouldn’t hurt. And considering the guy’s size, they’d hurt a lot!

“Here we are,” Shep said, drawing Tim’s attention.

Grateful for the reprieve from the biker’s penetrating gaze, Tim took the better part of valor and retreated…to the front of the bar where he could pay for his meal. He passed Shep his debit card and waited while he scanned it, trying not to shift his weight from foot to foot in agitation.

Every time Tim glanced toward the back, the stranger’s focus seemed to be on him. He couldn’t stop his eyes from widening or the heat from flooding his face and groin when the man stood. Holy shit, that guy has to be at least six and a half feet tall! A cold shiver worked down his spine when the stranger started toward him.

Oh, no! Had the guy realized why Tim had been ogling him? Fear had him snatching his card and receipt from Shep with more force than intended, almost making the plastic go flying out of both their hands.

“Whoa, Tim,” Shep urged. “You okay, man? You’re looking a little pale all of a sudden.”

“I’m good,” Tim squeaked out, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. He tried for a smile, but knew he’d failed miserably by the concern evident in Shep’s eyes. “I’m just tired. Ready to eat and crash.”

“When’s the new owner supposed to get to town?” Shep asked, cocking his head.

Normally, Tim wouldn’t hesitate to stop and shoot the shit with the big man. Shep was a great guy, after all, not even caring that he and Gil were an openly gay couple. But right then, there was an even bigger man heading toward him and Tim desperately wanted to avoid any confrontation.

Tim grabbed his to-go bag and turned toward the door. “Sorry, Shep. I really gotta run. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, okay?” Without waiting for an answer, Tim pulled the door open and stepped outside, blinking in the sudden sunlight.

A glance over his shoulder revealed a frowning Shep and an advancing biker. Surely, he wouldn’t follow him outside, would he? Closing the door, Tim didn’t wait to find out. He strode swiftly toward the corner. Once he reached the alleyway, Tim ducked into it and tore off at a sprint.

He didn’t know what unsettled him so much about the biker. Whether it was the premonition feeling right before spotting the guy, or the way he reacted to the man’s rough good looks and sexy body, but Tim just knew he needed to get away from him. If the guy got too close, he might notice Tim’s boner, then all hell would break loose. And it would be a little hard to explain how Tim’s right hook, backed by his partial-shifter strength, could flatten a human that size.

Tim maneuvered through two more alleys before slowing to a walk. He looked around, but finding himself alone, decided it was safe to go home. Laughing quietly, Tim mentally chided himself for being so foolish. The guy probably hadn’t even left the bar. In fact, he probably hadn’t even been heading toward Tim at all.

Rolling his eyes at his paranoid ridiculousness, Tim pulled his keys from his pocket as he strode swiftly up the walk to the two-bedroom, two-bath bungalow he’d shared with Gil for so many years. It also had a sale pending, thank the Gods!

He’d just unlocked the door and had stepped over the threshold when a deep voice speaking his name from directly behind him caused two reactions. First, Tim nearly jumped out of his skin, banging his Second, his insistently at his fly.

“Tim, please don’t run.”

Swallowing back his moan at the deep sexy voice, Tim slowly turned. He forced his head up, so he could meet the man’s dark brown-eyed gaze. He licked his lips, his nerves skittering along their endings. “What do you want?” He barely managed to get the whispered words past his lips when the man took a step forward.

Tim instinctively backed up to avoid being crowded by the guy’s big body. The close shoulder against dick jerked in his the doorframe. slacks, pressing proximity also gave him a lungful of the man’s earthy, musky scent. “Oh, shit. You’re a shifter,” he blurted, clutching his to-go bag to his chest like a shield.

The big guy nodded once, glanced over his shoulder and waved at someone out of Tim’s line of sight, then stepped fully into his small home and shut the door.