Chapter 11

Bruin pressed his nose and his palms to the window and stared out at the little car speeding out of the parking lot and turning left on the country road beyond, heading into Serenity.

He moaned and grabbed his head. “I can't believe she's already got a boyfriend and I only met her now.”

Rogue frowned and poked him on the chest, just above the nipple she’d already twisted. “Are you kidding? Did you see that funky body language? How awkward they were? How their shoulders faced away from each other and how he was groveling? I know these things. That had first date stamped all over it. She doesn't belong to him. You go get her Bru. If you like her, I know she’ll like you back. We just need to get you in front of her. Get her to see how special you are.”

Bruin grabbed Rogue by the shoulders, but gently. He didn't shake her like he would have shaken Mac.

“Really?”

She nodded. “I know about these things Bruin. That is a first date, I’m telling you.”

That was all Bruin needed to hear. He whirled and headed out the door, hitting the porch at a run, taking the steps three at a time until he was at the bottom and in the parking lot.

He hit the side of the truck and opened the back seat trying to climb in, but Troy was there, teeth bared.

Where's my omelet?

Bruin held up his hands. “Sorry, Troy. We didn't even get to eat. There's someone we’ve got to follow.”

Troy growled again. I’m hungry. Unless it’s Khain or a foxen, something half-way edible, I want food, in my belly, now.

Troy wouldn't let him in. Bruin slammed the door and made to climb in the front seat but Rogue beat him there and got in first.

“Slide over,” he told her, frantically. He couldn’t be trusted to drive. He was too out of his head.

She slid to the middle as Mac jumped into the driver's seat and jammed the keys into the ignition. Trent glared at them from the back seat, putting one paw over and poking Mac in the shoulder. His voice rumbled in Bruin's head.

Troy wants food and his whining is getting on my nerves. This better be good.

Mac ignored him, grinned, and screamed out of the parking lot, looking like he was having a great time.

He spoke out loud. “Bru finally met a lady who didn’t run away screaming once she got a good look at his face, so now we have to chase her and convince her that his personality makes him worth it. He’s purty on the inside.”

Trent hmmmed in Bruin’s head, a sound bracketed with the sight of climbing vines and the sound of wolf nails on concrete. But he didn’t protest, and even Troy settled down. Bruin craned his head trying to find a sign of the car that had taken off out of the parking lot several minutes ago. He saw nothing but empty road.

Mac slammed his foot on the gas as they pulled out onto the country road. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch them. I’m a mothereffin master driver.”

Rogue fastened her seatbelt, squeezing closer to Mac as she did so, her color high, her eyes bright. “Better than a masturbator.”

Mac snorted and held up his hand for a high-five, which Rogue happily gave him.

Bruin leaned forward over the dash, almost pressing his face against the windshield, searching for any sign of that little car. So far nothing. The roads were empty, the afternoon sun hazy on the crops on both sides of the road ahead of them. Mac swore and slowed down.

“What?” Bruin groaned but he saw already. A tractor with a folded disc plow behind it driving slowly and taking up the entire road. They were going to be stuck.

“No, look,” said Rogue and there to the right, a quarter mile ahead, was the little sports car. It had gotten stuck also and was not wasting its energy until the tractor cleared the road.

“Slow down, slow down,” Bruin hissed between his teeth, not wanting the lovely woman to realize he was following her like a lunatic. Or a stalker. Blast it all, he was a stalker. Who would’ve thought?

Mac complied, slowing way down and staying well back, then pulling over to wait like the sports car was waiting. Everyone caught their breath.

Rogue rubbed her hands together. “Perfect, now we can follow them to wherever they're going, and as soon as they get there, Bruin can jump out and start talking to Willow. Lure her away from whoever this loser is.”

Mac shook his head emphatically. “No way, he can't do that. That's against the bro code. Even if it's a first date, especially if it's a first date, you don't do that to a bro.”

“Yeah, it’s bear code, you can’t do that,” Bruin said softly, his heart twisting.

Rogue scoffed. “What in the hell is bear code?”

“It’s like bro code, but cooler, cuz it’s got bears.”

Rogue eyed him for a moment, obviously irritated, but she didn't argue. Instead, she looked wistfully out the front windshield and touched Mac on the arm, “But what if it's true love?”

Mac whipped his head so he could see Bruin. “Is it Bru? Is it true love?” Bruin could only shake his head and stare at the car ahead of them and wonder what exactly was going on in there. Were they talking? Were they kissing? A spike of pain went through his heart at the thought, and his guts heaved. If he'd had any food in his stomach, he would have thrown it up.

Rogue turned on Mac, her voice pleading. “What if we can get to them before they reach the restaurant and officially start their date? Would that break bro code?”

Mac shrugged “Maybe. It depends on whether the guy opens the door for her or not.”

Ahead of them, the tractor made a laborious turn into a dirt driveway, and the little sports car pulled out onto the road, heading for town. Mac followed.

Rogue thought for a few moments, her fingers tucked into her palms, her head down. She turned to Bruin, “Ok, Bruin, this is what we're going to do. Mac’s gonna get next to him in the other lane. You roll down your window, and I'm gonna throw you out of the truck. When he runs over you, they'll have to stop. She'll be concerned about you. She’ll get out and tend to your wounds. While she’s throwing sad-puppy concerned eyes at you, you make your move and ask her out. She’ll be so excited that you didn’t die that she’ll totally say yes. And he’ll feel so bad that you almost died that he’ll give her up without a fight. It's perfect. I’m a genius.”

Bruin considered it. Surely that little car couldn’t do much damage to him. He probably weighed as much as it did. But what if she got hurt? Someone snorted in his head. Trent? Troy? He couldn’t tell.

Mac sped up, went for the pass, and Rogue grabbed Bruin by the shoulder. “This is going to hurt a little bit,” she said. “Ok, maybe a lot, but don’t think about that.” Bruin braced himself.

But the little car slowed fast and Mac overshot it. Bruin twisted in his seat to see it, catching Trent and Troy doing the same from his peripheral vision.

“Shit!” Rogue cried. “Mac, turn around. They’re turning there.”

“They must be headed to Darpaccio’s,” Mac said, slamming on the brakes and backing up, then following.

“Huh,” Bruin said, his voice low. “I should have known. You saw his suit, right?”

“Yeah. Expensive. Straight-up gangsta.”

Rogue pinched both their biceps. “Somebody want to tell me what we’re talking about!?”

Mac stepped on the gas and the big truck jumped forward. “You’ll see.”

Two miles down the road, the little car pulled into a strange looking building, nestled in trees, but still visible enough for everyone to tell what it was supposed to be. A sign out front blazed Darpaccio’s Italian Food, and the entire building was round, ball shaped, and textured like food. A massive meatball, to be exact.

Rogue stared in awe at the building made to look like a meatball. “I've heard about this place, but I didn't think it actually existed.”

Bruin watched as the small sports car pulled into the parking lot and parked. He couldn't believe that this guy, whoever he was, was taking such a gorgeous and petite and special woman to a place where criminals hung out. High-end criminals, sure, but the bosses were still criminals. “Hurry, Mac.” His fingers scrabbled for the door handle.

Rogue leaned forward with him. “That’s right. Hurry up and get out. You’ve gotta get over there and open that door for her, man! Go, go!”

Mac waved his hand. “That's not how it works. You have to wait and see if that guy opens her door. You can't beat him to the punch.”

Rogue pounded her fist on the dashboard. “I don't care about your stupid bro-code. Bruin can't wait until that date is over. He’s gotta get in there first, no matter what!” She turned on Mac. “Your bro-code rules suck. Besides, he’s a criminal. Bro-code rules can’t possibly apply to criminals. That’s some bullshit. So that means the bro-code doesn’t stand, right? Bruin gets to swoop because he’s a good guy, and the good guys always win.”

Mac frowned, pulling into the parking lot. “Well yeah. You may have a point. Ok, bro-code is revoked in situations where said individual has been suspected of engaging in criminal activity.” He parked the truck in the only empty spot in the packed parking lot, five spots to the left of where the other car had parked.

“Whoop! You heard Mac! He’s a ‘No-Go Bro.’ Swoop, swoop!” Rogue cried, pushing at Bruin.

He opened the door and shot out of the car, without one idea of how to approach her in his head. Just walk by, hope she noticed him? Bump into her? Fancy meeting you here. No. Ridiculous. He groaned and recited a small bearen prayer. Rhen, perfect deae, mother of all shiften, I beg for your guidance on my path that I may choose the proper way, that you cast light before me so that I never lose my faith or my footing.

He added his own words.

I’ll never ask for anything again. I’ll work hard my whole life. I’ll always do what I think is right. I’ll never shirk my duty or say an unkind word, Please, Rhen, just give me the perfect moment. All I need is one opportunity for her to notice me.

Time seemed to slow down. Bruin became peripherally aware of everything around him. A car drove by on the main road, someone inside the restaurant laughed, like a shriek. Another vehicle, a truck with a loud engine and a muffler that ticked every few seconds, drove by, and slowed on the rural route passing the restaurant.

The driver’s side door to the little sports car opened and the man inside stood. Bruin hurried that way, his eyes locked on the back of the man’s head. Was he going to open Willow’s door?

Bruin had to be there first, he had to be the one to open her door but she, beat them both to it. Her shining brown hair appeared as she stood and she glanced at him. Somehow she felt Bruin’s eyes on her and she looked straight at him. He groaned. Now he really looked like a stalker.

Rogue jostled him as she came up next to him, “Wait,” she said, her voice alarmed. “Is that Soren?”

Bruin's heart seized in his chest. Soren, the foxen? The marked foxen? With Willow?

For the first time in his life, Bruin began to growl like a wolf.