Hidden Moon (Hot Moon Rising #4) (9 page)

sizzling grill. “I’m a danger to them and you. If you don’t believe it, you’re hopelessly

naive.”

Her bottom lip trembled, and she shrank from him. Good. It meant he was finally

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getting through to her.

He grabbed the spatula from her limp hand. “If selling to Starwood gets me out of

here the fastest, then I’m going to do it.”

The sooner she got it through her head they weren’t right for each other, the better.

Having sex with her had been a mistake. Even though they hadn’t done the mating

bond, the act had connected them. From now on, he needed to keep her at a distance no

matter how much it ripped him apart.

***

When the breakfast rush died down, Alan wiped the grease from his hands with a rag.

Luckily, it had been so busy Shelley hadn’t said another word to him. She’d left fifteen

minutes ago to return to her farm, and Liana had taken over waiting tables.

He headed for the door, hoping to find someone to fill in for him, too, so he could

check on his father. They also had to discuss Starwood’s offer. After this morning’s

outburst, he needed to be with kin.

In the dining room, several pack members gathered around a large round table. They

huddled forward like a football team and spoke in low voices so the tourists wouldn’t

overhear them. Even though it made his belly lurch, he stepped toward them.

“Can someone take over in the kitchen for a while?” Alan asked. “I need to check on

Dad.”

“Sure.” Charlie Aquino, a friend of the pack, sipped the coffee he stopped by for so

often. “We’ve been discussing the diner, trying to find a solution to suit everybody.”

Including him? Alan blinked. Maybe he’d underestimated them. Then again, Curtis

was gone. Earlier, Derek could have punished him but had only restrained him. If he

wanted an Alpha in his life, which he didn’t, he probably wouldn’t find a better one.

How would it feel to be part of the Starwood pack? It seemed to be a businesslike

outfit similar to his corporate life. Just get the job done with no strong attachments.

Moonlight was more like family. Not being a part of it was worse than being alone.

“I’ll buy it myself if I have to,” Derek said, draining the rest of his coffee. “Better yet,

why don’t a group of us take ownership of it? We can share the expense, labor, and

profits.”

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“Good idea,” Rand said. “Count me in.”

“Liana and I are in, too.” Charlie looked at his wife. “Right, babe?”

“Of course,” she replied with a smile.

“As long as the diner gets sold, I’m a happy camper,” Alan said. “All I want to do is go

home and get out of your hair.”

“Believe it or not, we all want the same thing,” Derek declared.

“I’ll discuss it with Dad this afternoon,” Alan offered. Maybe pack mentality was

finally sinking into his brain because the need for consensus circulated through his

blood.

When he headed to the parking lot, though, he found Dad shuffling toward the front

door on the sturdy arm of Rita, his caregiver. He wore baggy sweatpants and a pajama

top.

Alan frowned at him. “What are you doing here?”

The Hispanic woman shot him a helpless look. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“I need to be in my diner,” the older man practically growled. “Otherwise, you might

as well bury my carcass right now.”

Alan’s stomach dropped. If he sold the diner, especially to another pack, it wouldn’t

be his father’s territory anymore. Getting him back to the house probably wouldn’t be

any easier. After his outburst, he didn’t have the strength to argue.

“Let’s get him settled in the storeroom. He and I need to talk alone.”

Relief flooded Rita’s dark eyes. From what Shelley had told him, Alan knew she was a

refugee from another pack who’d joined theirs after he’d left. Judging by the wary

expression on her cinnamon-hued face, she knew about his violent reputation.

“Sure.” She helped Don up the stoop. “Meanwhile, I can make a grocery run.”

In the storeroom, Alan cut the steak and cheese sub he’d hastily fried up and gave his

father half.

“I received an offer for the diner this morning.”

Dad’s grizzled eyebrows rose. “So soon? Who from?”

When Alan told him about Graham from the Starwood pack, he nearly choked on his

sub.

“You mean you’d sell my heritage to a rival pack? What kind of son are you?”

“I have a job to return to.” Alan kept his voice calm, fighting the irritation prickling

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across his skin. “The pack proposed buying it as a group, but that could be drawn out

and complicated. The quicker and cleaner the sale, the better.”

“I don’t want to sell it.”

“What!” Alan dropped his sub and the meat inside spilled out on the counter. “But

you agreed.”

“I changed my mind. I have a better idea.”

“Can’t wait to hear it,” Alan said, crossing his arms.

“I want you to run it.”

He let out a choked laugh. “No way. I hate cooking.”

Having Shelley pressed close to his side making pancakes earlier hadn’t been too

painful, though. Her presence calmed him in a way he couldn’t explain.

Don picked a piece of onion out of his beard. “So hire a cook.”

Why was everyone so determined to keep him here? Okay, the pack wasn’t, but

Shelley and Dad—the only people who mattered to him—were.

“You know I have a life to get back to.”

“Oh, yes, your wonderful life.” Dad’s gaze drifted to the ceiling. “Why you’d rather

freeze your balls off up there alone and sit in front of a computer all day is beyond me.”

Alan picked up his sub meat and downed it in a couple of bites. He was a monster, so

he may as well eat like one.

“You weren’t here earlier when I threw a crate of tomatoes against the wall.” Sweat

beaded across his brow from the mere thought of it. “I was completely out of control.

Shelley and most of the pack saw it.”

“You could learn to control the beast like I did,” the old man shot back.

“Yeah, right.” Alan picked the cheese out of his bread and gulped it. “After I kill a few

people along the way.”

Don waved a greasy hand. “Young people have no patience. A man belongs with his

mate.”

“That happily-ever-after shit is for normal men and shifters.”

Dad set down his half-eaten sandwich. “Where do you think you came from? An alien

spaceship? I had a woman once.”

An image of Alan’s mother flashed through his mind. She’d died when he was six

from an illness. He remembered her gentleness the most. How she dabbed his runny

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nose when he was sick. Pulled his boots on before he went out into the rain. Best of all,

how she snuggled with him before he went to sleep at night, reading him stories.

Shelley was gentle. Too much for her own good. He could easily picture her raising

his pups.

“Weren’t you afraid you’d hurt her?”

“At first.” Don chuckled. “Let me tell you, we had some barn-burnin’ arguments, but I

never harmed one hair on her head. Not even close.”

Alan popped an onion slice into his mouth, chewing it carefully instead of swallowing

it whole. He suspected he’d never hurt Shelley, either, but he couldn’t trust a hunch. He

stood, walked to the window, and gazed at the woods. When the black sedan had pulled

up, he’d been so ready to sell. He wasn’t the same man he’d been this morning. Every

minute he stayed in this place, the harder it became to leave.

“She’s better off without me,” he said. “I’ve told her so several times.”

“So, you’re going to leave her here to rot with no mate or children of her own?”

Alan gripped the windowsill. “I’m keeping her safe.”

“Why don’t you let her take care of herself instead of deciding everything for her?

Hell, she takes care of everybody else around here.”

“She’s pretty amazing,” Alan agreed. “I don’t know how she finds time to do charity

work on top of farming and helping out in the diner.”

“That’s not the half of it. When any of the pack children are sick, she visits them or

sends them little gifts to cheer them up. And when her neighbor’s barn blew down

during the last hurricane, there she was, hauling his animals to her farm to care for

them. Reminded me of Noah’s Ark.”

Wow.
She’d come a long way from the spoiled beauty queen of his high school days.

“The point is,” Don continued after a slow belch, “you’re too bossy. You treat me like a

child, too.”

“If I’m so screwed up,” Alan asked, turning to glare at his father, “why are you so

determined to make me stay?”

“Because there’s hope for you. I can’t die in peace until I get you straightened out.”

“Now who’s treating the other like a child?”

“You are a good cook, you know.” Don wiped his greasy lips and belched again.

“Getting back to the woman…do you love her?”

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Did he? The wolf inside him howled in reply as he sat down again and munched

another slice of onion. After witnessing him throw a tomato crate against the wall, most

women would have told him to stay the hell away. Shelley wasn’t most women. She saw

the good in him no matter what. Not to mention her hard work and selflessness. The

pack would probably fall apart if it weren’t for her. Moonlight Diner sure would have.

“Yes.” His answer emerged in a hoarse whisper. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

Don sagged before his eyes, leaning on his elbows as he hunched over the table.

Heart thudding, Alan rushed to his side and gave his shoulder a gentle shake. “Are

you okay?”

“I’ll live, today.” Dad blinked tired-looking eyes. “Talked myself out of breath.”

“You need to stop worrying about me.” Alan stacked their dirty plates. “I’ll drive you

home so you can rest.”

Dad nodded, wheezing as he stood. “Since you don’t like anything I’ve proposed

today, I’ll keep it simple and give you one request.”

“Which is?” Alan slid his arm under Dad’s armpit and guided him toward the door.

“If you must sell the diner, don’t do it until I’m gone. Not even to the pack.”

Alan squeezed his eyes shut. The man was impossible. “Why?”

The old man, frail and thin on his arm, growled like the majestic wolf he’d always

been. “Because I said so.”

Alan knew what he was up to. He figured if his son stayed long enough, he’d never

leave. Even more reason to get out of here. His logical mind listed the things he needed

to do.

Get Dad home and into bed. Call Graham Linden and tell him the diner wasn’t for

sale, ever. Notify the pack of Dad’s request. Most importantly, call the airline because

his ass was flying out of here tomorrow morning no matter what. Let the pack members

run the diner like they had before he’d shown up. It would be good practice for when

they finally owned it.

Before he left, though, he needed Shelley to know he loved her. His stomach dropped

to his feet as if he stood inside an elevator with a snapped cable. For some reason,

revealing his feelings scared him worse than losing control of his beast.

***

Shelley rushed into the diner around three in the afternoon to make pies for dessert.

Farming chores, it seemed, were never done, but they’d kept her mind off Alan. If he

didn’t want to be with her, she couldn’t change his mind. She was tired of throwing

herself at him and looking like an idiot. Even though she didn’t believe for one minute

his uncontrollable temper would ever harm her, she appreciated his concern.

She couldn’t control the diner sale, either. For the first time since he’d arrived, she

looked forward to watching him leave. Back to the life that was more important to him

than her and the pack. Letting him go felt better than a breath of fresh breeze on a

humid afternoon.

Barbara cornered her before she reached the kitchen. “Good news. Scabs has decided

not to sell the place to the Starwood pack.”

“Please don’t call him that.” Shelley’s heart fluttered along with her hands. “Never

mind. What is he going to do with it? Is he here?”

“He’s going to sell it to the pack, but the old man requested we wait until he passes

away.”

“That’s wonderful!” Shelley exclaimed. “I want to be one of the owners. We could

redecorate.”

Maybe she’d written Alan off too soon, but she refused to get her hopes up about a

relationship. He’d shot her down too many times. She’d settle for his helping the pack,

which was a lot more important than her selfish desires.

“You read my mind, girlfriend.” Barbara flung her hand toward the faded, red-

checked curtains and dark paneling that looked like something from the 70s. “Men have

no taste. This place needs a serious renovation.”

When Shelley took a step toward the kitchen, Barbara handed her a sealed envelope.

“Oh, and he asked me to give you this.”

Having no idea what it could be, she broke a nail ripping into it. The small envelope,

made of heavy paper, reminded her of the ill-fated prom invitation and Barbara’s role in

it.

Was Alan paying her back for it? Did he keep pushing her away because he could

never forgive her for that miserable night?

Her fingers trembled as she pulled out the card.

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I could write another poem because there are so many in my heart, but I’ll keep it

simple.

You are cordially invited to Don’s cottage at 7 pm for a romantic, home-cooked