James head bobbled in agreement. “Sure, Ben. You’re absolutely right. I let my mouth run away with my imagination.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Then you’d better wipe Miss Yancy from your imagination. And make sure your horny little friends know the same. If you see her or come near her, you will be as respectful of her as if you’re speaking to your Lupa. You hear me?”
Though the fear began to recede from his eyes, James swallowed hard. “Most definitely.” More head bobbing.
Only when wolf and man were both assured the kid would do as instructed did his claws and fangs ebb back into his body. His anger cooled, Ben dusted James’s coat. “Sorry about the holes.”
“No problem.” James inched sideways, his voice thready and hesitant. “My fault for making an assumption. I just thought, well. You know.”
Lips tightened in irritation. Ben knew what the kid thought. His reputation as a ladies’ man, one he’d never instigated nor refuted, was biting him in the ass. It was all based on rumors and beliefs that made the younger male shifters look at him with admiration. Town gossip could be such a bitch. He hadn’t nailed every female that gave him a come-hither glance. He wasn’t that much of an animal.
Noticing how young James cautiously moved away, coupled with his unprecedented anger, had Ben re-evaluating that last thought. It seemed one female in particular was turning him into a beast. One whiff and that was all it took. Until he could sink his fangs into that sweet flesh and stake his claim, he’d probably remain more beast than man.
This little episode was bound to run through the famous Woodcliff gossip mill, spreading far and wide. By tomorrow, every shifter would know the redheaded dancer was off limits, giving him plenty of time before the full moon to finalize the deal.
Satisfied, Ben turned to sign his name on the check-out sheet. “Where you just coming back here to yank my chain?”
“Uh, what? Oh. No.” James seemed a bit discombobulated by the quick return of Ben’s friendly tone. “I was, uh, just double checking the time number seven and nine snow runners were rented out.”
Ben fingered through the listing. “Two-forty for an hour.” He looked up at the wall clock. “Three-thirty-five now.”
“Oh. Okay. They still have time.”
“Was there a problem?”
James shook his head, stopped. “Well, it’s just I thought I smelled alcohol when I walked past them to get another rental for a couple I was helping, but by the time I got to Gordon, his foursome was gone.”
Gordon was human and didn’t have a shifter’s super sniffer, but he knew better than to give anyone keys to a runner if there was any suspicion of alcohol use. It would be his job. And James didn’t say he was sure it was alcohol. If the breeze was blowing just right, a shifter could smell the alcohol from someone’s glass sitting on the upstairs deck.
“They protected?” Ben asked.
“Yes, sir. All helmeted up and everything. I at least saw that.”
Ben grunted, picked up the two helmets he’d picked out and headed for the side door, James in his wake. “If they’re not back in twenty, let Maureen know.” Maureen Kilner was their boss and co-owner of the lodge. Dean was a silent partner, having helped the woman out several years back when the economy began to tank and tourism dropped so much that Maureen had been close to losing the lodge.
No one could tell him his alpha wasn’t made of awesome.
Standing outside, James shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Will do. Um, is it all right to say have fun?”
Something in the kid’s tone made Ben glance his way as he hooked the spare helmet on the runner. Realizing the other shifter needed touch, especially after Ben’s outburst, he reached out with his free hand and ruffled James’s short, dark hair before straddling the seat. “What I need from you is to wish me luck. I’m gonna need all I can just to get the lady alone for five minutes.”
Appearing relieved that no hard feelings existed, James smiled. “Good luck, then.”
The engine roared to life and, after strapping on his helmet, Ben gave James a two-fingered salute. He eased through the lot, mindful of out-of-control skiers and pedestrians. Once clear, he increased his speed and took a right at the fork in the path. A minute later he left the path entirely and zipped through the forest, knowing the land like the back of his hand.
As he dodged trees he recalled that first night, and his shockingly powerful reaction to Willow. No one had ever told him what to expect should he encounter his mate, and the force of his desire had blindsided him.
But because he rarely took things at face value, especially something as important as his mate, Ben had let his wolf loose when he heard Willow at the back of the cabin. His senses might be extraordinary in human form, but as wolf? They were as keen as his wild brethren. He’d stripped in one of the empty cabins, leaving the door slightly ajar, and bounded into the night.