The storefronts in Grayslake were similar to his home in Arcadia. False fronts and clapboard. Brick and old stone. For most people it would be like stepping back into a bygone era where road trips and small town USA made anyone King of the Road. Setting his truck brake, Travis Owen left the truck running to listen to the last chorus of the song that was playing through his speakers and let out a long pent-up breath.

Once his lungs were empty he took in a deep breath, scenting the world around him through the open window of his truck. It was clean, woodsy, enough humans to give him pause, but he didn’t feel the tension pinching between his shoulder blades. He didn’t flinch when a man walked around the corner of the nearest building.

He didn’t have to look over his shoulder.

The feeling should have been relaxing, but all it did was point out how bad things were at home. Why he was so determined to find a new place to live. Why he wanted to make a better future for himself, and one day his own family. A mate and cubs were everything he wanted in life, but he wanted them safe and happy. That wasn’t too much to ask.

Make no mistake, he loved his hometown, loved the memories he’d made there with his family, but his family was crumbling around him and he wanted to settle down, find his mate, have a home full of cubs. He just didn’t want to worry that a turf war would sweep in and take it all from him.

He was determined to find a place run by the right kind of people, and from what he’d heard in a number of places, Grayslake was just that. And Ty Abrams was that kind of a leader.

A quick glance at the clock on his dashboard had him reaching for his seatbelt. He had a half an hour before he had to meet Ty. Reaching for the folded up paper on the passenger side of the seat he read the instructions.

Wait outside the diner. 1 PM.

The diner was across the street and from this vantage point, he could see a good part of what folks would call ‘downtown.’ Groceries. Tackle and Sporting equipment. Nothing too fancy, but nothing really missing. He’d heard there was a decent pizza place and a Chinese restaurant that had a good cook.

A loud rumble had him sitting up, leaning his forearms on the steering wheel.

A bus pulled in across the street in front of the diner, one of those Cross-Country contraptions that were more about affordability than comfort. The wide blue stripes emblazoned along the side of the antiquated transport were just visible under the layers of road dust and the hydraulic controls on the door hissed loud enough to drown out the rest of the ambient noise around him. A bunch of people piled out, headed for the front door of the diner. A couple in loud tropical shirts and white knee-length socks looked like they were on their way to Orlando for vacation. Two men wore the short-cropped hair cuts, tight dark t-shirts and camouflage pants that marked them either heading for base or home. And there was a young couple in love. They needed no other description. Arms wrapped around each other, kisses peppered on each other’s faces, hands slipping into the back pockets of each other’s jeans.

Travis felt the muscle in his jaw tick. Love. It was so easy for some.

Then again, he mused, some people didn’t have to worry about someone trying to kill you in your sleep.

Yeah, life in Arcadia was pretty messed up at the moment, and Travis was in agreement with his bear on one thing. He wanted a mate and cubs. To get both and keep them, he had to live somewhere that they didn’t have to worry about the kind of ridiculousness that amounted to a shifter civil war in his hometown.

There was some sort of commotion out in front of the diner. Some of the people from the bus were cupping their hands over their eyes looking into the darkened interior. One of the soldiers banged on the door and got no reply.

What caught Travis’ eye was a hand pointing at the sign taped to the inside of the glass on the door. Curious eyes turned to look and there was a sharp drop in noise as one of the men read the words. “Closed until One.”

A collective sigh got the group headed back to the bus, grumbling about their hunger. He agreed. He was hoping to grab a cup of coffee before his meeting with the Itan.

As the group cleared the front of the diner, Travis realized that one of them had stayed.

She stood just beside the door, a small travel suitcase that looked like it came straight out of a different era, was set down on the asphalt. As she stood, Travis was riveted to the sight. Her vintage case was only one part of her look and every piece that was revealed to him had him more entranced than the piece before. She wore those patent leather buckled shoes on her feet and colored tights that cupped her calves like a second skin. A pleated skirt was next, and even though he only got the slightest glimpse of her knees under the hem his hands itched to touch her. He liked the look on a woman, but especially on her. Her curves alone could bring him to his knees, but it was the bowling shirt she wore that got him hot. Yeah, one look at the purple and pink bowling shirt with an embroidered name on the left front had his mind thinking of her bending over a bowling ball return and the sweet curve of her backside lifting the hem of that pleated skirt.

A truck rattled up to the side of the diner and she turned to see who it was drawing his gaze to her face. “Damnit all to hell,” he mumbled under his breath. She looked like a vintage pin up, with blunt-cut bangs that brushed the tops of her eyebrows and a thick jet-black ponytail high on the back of her head.

With a big mega-watt smile she dropped her purse from her shoulder and ran into the waiting embrace of the man who slid down from the cab.

Travis gnashed his teeth together as his bear growled low and deep in his chest.

Mine.

His bear didn’t usually say much, but when it did, it got to the point.

Thankful for his hearing, Travis managed to pick up her words over the loud vibrations of sound in his ears, she offered a greeting to her, “uncle.”

That was enough to settle the bear’s possessive instinct, but in the next heartbeat his bear was aroused for another reason altogether.

As her uncle fitted his keys into the lock to open the diner, she reached down and took hold of the hem of her shirt and pulled it up to tie it into a knot at her waist. His eyes feasted, not only on the sweet curve of her skirt clad backside, but the peaches and cream perfection of her stomach.

Hungry.

Oh yeah. He was hungry too. He’d been on the road for the better part of the day and he was ready to put something into his mouth.

Twisting the key in the ignition, his truck went silent a moment before he threw open the door. His bear got up on all four paws and nodded his head.

Go.

Sliding from the cab, Travis enjoyed the twinge of pain when his boots hit the asphalt, bringing him to a sudden stop.

Inside the diner he saw her step up to the window. Gorgeous. He’d seen her from the back and enjoyed every curve, he’d seen her from the side and admired the sway of her lower back that swept into the sweet curve of her backside. And her face. A second look had him shaking. Silken skin. Dark hair. Lips so pink and kissable he had to-

The unmistakable sound of a police siren broke through his thoughts and Travis looked to the left and saw the broad predatory grin visible above the steering wheel and below the mirrored sunglasses in a Grayslake patrol car.

His bear dug his claws into their connection. He didn’t seem to care that they might end up behind bars. Nope, they were both jonesing for up-close-and-personal with the gorgeous woman in the diner.

The siren cut out but the light continued to throb as the driver’s door opened and the officer behind the wheel stepped out into the hard light of the afternoon.

Pulling off his sunglasses, the officer gave him a grin as he folded in one arm of his mirrored spectacles and tucked it into the open neck of his uniformed shirt.

“Welcome to Grayslake.”

The officer didn’t offer a hand and neither did Travis. He kept his eyes on the other man. Careful had kept him alive. He wasn’t going to stop now.

A wave of power rolled from the officer and over him like an ocean undertow and the scent of bear met him like a rough shove to the shoulder. A quick glance at the name tag on the uniform filled in the last piece of information. V. Abrams. “Enforcer.”

Now he was really treading on thin ice. The Grayslake Enforcer wasn’t someone you went up against unless you had little or no interest in living.

Van Abrams was the middle brother of the three Abrams that ran the Grayslake clan, and he was also the Sheriff in town. With Van, you walked on the right side of the law, or you didn’t walk at all. And in this town, the law was only partially human.

“I’m-”

“Travis Owen.”

Travis narrowed his gaze ever so sightly.

Van must have seen the question in his eyes. “One of my men ran your plates.”

Nodding slowly, Travis turned slowly and looked around him. A squad car was tucked in under the shady canopy of a tree down the street. “Fair enough.”

Van’s raised brow told Travis enough. The middle Abrams brother didn’t need his okay for anything he did. With a slow sweep of his hand Van gestured at the diner. “You planning on getting something to eat?”

Travis kept his gaze off of the diner itself. “I’ve been on the road for hours. Hungry is an understatement.”

“Too bad. You’ve got a meeting with the Itan.” Van’s smile was only partially human and what wasn’t made its point. “If he says you can stay, then you can come back and eat.”

Van tilted his head toward the cruiser. “Go ahead, get in. I’ll bring you back, after you meet with the Itan.”

Travis didn’t hesitate. He wasn’t going to flinch. Not now.

But as the cruiser pulled away from the curb he gave one last look at the diner. He was definitely going to come back here after and if that gorgeous woman showed any interest in him at all, he just might stay forever.

* * *

Within minutes of turning over the CLOSED sign, the diner was inundated with customers. The bus crowd had disappeared, but that didn’t seem to matter. Like a magnet, the OPEN sign seemed to pull people off of an almost empty street.

It was all pretty simple. Take the order, give the order, pick it up, deliver it… and so on. She’d done it for years, starting at the Pancake House and later on at Donny’s and then The Pickle Barrel. To say she was experienced was an understatement, but that was how she made the money to pay for college and her books. And after that, she’d worked at a biker bar on the highway while she saved up for her ticket to Europe and her rail pass, the rest, she’d figure out later when she got there.

But for now, she was in Grayslake and Grace had barely enough time to grab up the pad of order tickets and pick up a pencil when the first four-top walked in. Every once in a while she’d pick up a glass she kept behind the counter and take a big gulp of water. There was a constant back and forth and she’d catch her uncle’s rolled eyes or reassuring looks in the pass-through and she quickly got herself up to speed.

At one point, her uncle crooked his finger at her and she came to the window a moment later.

“How’re you doing, Gracie?”

She shrugged. “I was griping earlier about having to sit for so long on the bus. I guess I got a bit of karma handed to me.”

He chuckled and handed her a plate with a steaming hot hamburger and a pile of fries. “Regretting the decision to come and help us out?”

She frowned at him. “You know that’s not true. I guess I just didn’t expect such a huge crowd in Grayslake. In Tucson we get rushes like this, but wow.”

He picked up a towel and wiped his brow. “I’m pretty sure the rush has everything to do with you, honey.” He lifted his spatula and waved it at the dining room. “Word’s gotten around that there’s a pretty girl in the diner.”

“Right,” she shook her head. “You’re a big ol’ softy where it comes to me, Uncle Eddie. But have you seen the hotties out there in the dining room? They’re so not here for me.” With a wink she walked out from behind the counter and took the plate to the man sitting in the corner booth. “Burger and fries.” She gave him a grin. “Anything else you’d like?”

“To take you out tonight.”

She rolled her eyes. Hungry she could handle. Playful? Not a problem. “What do they put in the water in Grayslake?” She leaned her hip on the side of the bench facing him. “You’re the fourth guy to ask me out since we opened,” she looked at the clock, “almost three hours ago. Either I’m the luckiest girl in the world, or your town needs a better optometrist.”

He didn’t seem to like her joke. “I’m serious, you know.” He looked around the dining room, his eyes moving over all of the other customers. “If you haven’t said yes to the others, maybe you’ll give me a chance.”

Reaching out he touched the back of her hand with his fingertips.

Grace pulled back slightly and saw the frown that twisted the corners of his mouth down. “Sorry, I-,” she looked back at the kitchen, “I’m here to help my uncle and I’m swamped.”

“With someone like you helping out this is only going to be the start,” he swallowed hard and his eyes darkened a little, “so when you do have a few minutes,” he scribbled his number on a piece of paper, “give me a call.”

Hesitating for a moment, Grace wasn’t sure what to do. The front door swung open and the little bell suspended above the frame danced and rang out in the room.

“Gracie!” She heard her uncle call and she almost blew him a kiss in relief. “Customer at the door!”

With a murmured apology she darted away from the table and picked up a menu from beside the register. A napkin, a fork, a knife, and a spoon found their way into her hand and when she had everything squared away she turned to the new arrival. “Welcome to the diner, may I-”

Grace found herself in the middle of a unique problem, while her words had dried up, there were other parts of her that were deliciously wet.

The man standing just inside the diner door was gorgeous. Now that wasn’t to say that he was the only one she’d seen in Grayslake. Nope, there apparently was an embarrassment of riches of the hottie-kind in this little town. The god-like figure standing before her in worn jeans and a button-down that begged to be crumpled on the floor of some lucky woman’s bedroom, was just perfect.

Perfectly scrumptious.

Good enough to-

“Gracie?” Her Uncle Eddie’s voice was like a pail of cold water on the images in her head. “You okay, Gracie?”

“I’m fine, Uncle Eddie.” Flushing to the roots of her hair she struggled to fix her expression into the perfect hostess. Waving the menu before her face she offered up a weak apology. “Sorry, it’s really warm in here.”

“Warm?” The sleepy crawl of his voice felt like his voice was touching her along the side of her neck. “Honey bear, this is Georgia,” he set his hand on his cheek and smoothed it down toward his neck, slowing his movements as his palm moved over his jaw, “everything here is hot and sultry.”

And boom. There was the truth bomb that landed at her feet.

When she managed to meet his eyes and actually focus on her thoughts he nearly wrecked it all again. He smiled, and the heat she’d only been mildly joking about flared all across her skin. It would have been okay if it had stayed on the exposed parts… no, the visible parts. She had to change the word in her head because standing there in the middle of a crowded dining room under the newcomer’s gaze, everything felt exposed.

“Yes, well,” she blew out a breath and gestured to the right before she started to move, “we’ve got cold water, sweet tea, and milkshakes, whatever you want.”

She knew he was following her, she could almost feel the heat of his skin against her back. Stopping at the booth she waved him in. “You can sit here.”

He looked at the booth and then turned his gaze to the side and to the seats at the counter. “What about there?”

Well goodness, having him up at the counter would mean that she could keep her eye on him at all times. Sign me up. “Sure. Sit where you like.”

With a slow, appreciative nod he walked across the open floor and slid onto one of the chairs.

Gracie barely stopped herself from hissing out an appreciative whistle as the worn denim of his jeans stretched over the hard curve of his backside. She could see the pale wear pattern around his wallet in the back-right pocket and the dark leather of his belt. Stepping up to his side she set the menu down and the utensils a moment before she heard the pick-up bell. “I’ll be right back to take your order.”

As she rounded the counter she caught the reflection in the wide chrome frame of the specials board. Her new customer was leaning back in his seat, arm slung over the backrest, his eyes focused on her.

Suddenly, she was really happy to be back in Grayslake, if only for the view.