After taking the jalapeno poppers to the elderly couple’s table, Demitri returned to the kitchen and grabbed a pitcher of water in one hand and a carafe of coffee in the other. He headed back out to the floor. After another dozen steps, Demitri froze, his gaze riveted on the doorway and the three men strolling inside. “Oh!” he whispered.
The tall African American turned to look in his direction, his brows drawing together. Declan McIntire, alpha wolf of his shifter pack, exchanged a look with the tall Caucasian dark-haired man behind him, Shane Alvaro, the pack beta.
The third man, Carson Angeni, a broad-shouldered Native American, was the shifter pack’s head enforcer.
“Hey, you okay?” Cindy asked, slapping him on the shoulder as she passed, heading toward the hostess stand.
“Yeah,” he answered absently. Pulling his gaze away from the alpha wolf shifter, Demitri swallowed hard and got moving again. He made the rounds of his tables, then headed toward Declan’s table—because of course they’d end up in his section.
He had to swallow twice to get moisture into his throat.
Yes, he’d wanted to talk to Declan, but facing down three powerful wolves was fucking intimidating. Finally, he managed to unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth and say, “Welcome to Macy’s Diner. Can I start you with a strawberry iced tea or we have coke products. If you’re in the mood, maybe you’d like some loaded potato skins or a chili cheese fry to share?”
“I’d love a chili cheese fry,” Carson commented, leaning back, he tipped onto the rear legs of the chair. “And I’ll take coffee.”
“Iced tea, unsweetened,” Shane ordered.
Declan eyed him for several seconds, his nostrils flaring, subtly scenting him, and Demitri shifted nervously. Finally, he blew out a breath and said, “I’ll take water, Demitri, and are ye available to take a short break and sit with us a minute or two?”
He said it as a request, but Demitri knew it wasn’t really meant that way. He nodded. “I’ll bring your drinks out, then I’ll need a few minutes, but I’ll try.” Declan nodded back, and Demitri scurried away.
He quickly made the three shifter’s drinks and placed them on his tray. Demitri swung by the hostess stand and asked Cindy to keep an eye on his tables for a few minutes, explaining that he needed to talk to his friends for just a sec.
She eyed him curiously, but agreed without explanation.
He’d probably have some questions to answer later, but he’d figure that out when the time came.
Returning to Declan’s table, he gave each man his drink, then took the free chair and folded his hands together on the table. He hoped that would keep him from fidgeting. He really should have figured out a way to talk to Declan this morning, but he’d enjoyed spending time with Kiernan too much.
“Yer parents contacted me last night, said ye ran away,”
Declan said, his voice low. Demitri straightened, ready to refute that, but then the alpha smirked and held up a hand to stop him. “I scent another on ye. It’s not hard to figure out where ye really were.”
Demitri’s brows shot up. Was Declan teasing him?
Then Declan’s smirk eased and he leaned toward him across the table. “Ye’re bein’ careful, aren’t ye, Demitri?”
Lowering his gaze to the table, Demitri knew it was now or never. “I have some things to tell you,” he whispered, flicking up to look at his alpha, then the other men at the table. Shane watched him, his expression inscrutable. Carson didn’t appear to be paying him any attention, his focus sweeping the diner slowly. It was deceptive. Demitri knew that as the enforcer, Carson would keep a watch and make certain others couldn’t overhear them.
Evidently, Declan must have noticed his nervousness, maybe from a scent change or the tension in his shoulders.
His eyes narrowed. “Is it something ye can tell me here? Or should I have someone pick ye up after ye’re shift and bring ye to me house?”
That his alpha was willing to listen to him without question was a relief. How much should he say in the middle of the diner? Since Declan was here, Demitri figured he might as well just spit it out. He leaned forward and muttered, “My parents aren’t too pleased with me being gay.” Demitri noted the way Declan’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed, but he ignored it.
“When they found out I went on a date with a man, my father beat me. I went to work like normal, planning to find a way to get to you afterward, so I could tell you. I didn’t realize how exhausting getting through the day would be in my weakened state. I—” he hesitated, but decided to just lay it all out there. “I was dead on my feet, so when my mate offered to let me stay the night with him, I accepted.”
“Did you just say your mate?” Shane asked sharply.
Demitri focused on the table and jerked a nod.
“Well, congratulations,” Carson muttered from next to him.
When Demitri glanced his way, the enforcer still wasn’t looking him, but a small smile did play about the corners of his firm lips. Carson was the one who’d set him up for training as a tracker, so he knew it wasn’t because the guy didn’t like him or didn’t approve. He was just doing his job.
Finally, Demitri looked at Declan through his lashes. The big African American ran a hand over his shaved scalp and blew out a breath. Leveling a concerned look at him, he murmured, “Ye stayed the night with him while ye were injured. Did he notice yer increased healing ability?”
Demitri grimaced. “Yeah.”
“What did you tell him?” Shane asked, giving him a stern look.
He glanced between them. “I told him I didn’t know him well enough to explain.”
Declan’s black brows shot up. “And he accepted that?”
Shrugging, Demitri nodded.
“Damn, not often a
