Chapter Four
Saturday night at The Den wasn't as busy as Friday, but it was still packed. Heather told Catherine they mostly get out-of-towners during the weekends, especially once the busy tourist season began. Blackstone didn't offer the biggest or best slopes in the area, but the picturesque Main Street attracted lots of families who wanted to take pictures, go shopping, or just walk around. Of course, it didn't hurt that there was a big shifter population in town, and though they weren't tourist attractions themselves, it drew a lot of curious folks.
“And some other type of folk,” Heather added, rolling her eyes at a group of girls dressed in skimpy outfits, their hair curled and teased within an inch of their lives.
“What do you mean?” Catherine asked.
Heather lowered her voice. “Shifter groupies. You know, girls who want to know what it’s like to be with a shifter.”
“Oh.” Catherine frowned.
“Don’t be a prude, hon,” Heather said. “I’ve tried it, too! It’s definitely an experience.”
“I’m not a prude,” she said. “I just … don’t know how I feel about it. On the one hand—yay feminism, right? Women should be free to explore their sexuality without being labeled as sluts. But on the other hand, shifters aren’t some carnival ride you try once and then get off.”
“Honey,” she nodded at the group of men eyeing the women, “those guys definitely don’t feel like they’re being exploited.”
Catherine flashed her a wry smile. “You know what I mean.”
"How ‘bout you, honey," Heather asked with a wink. "You wanna climb on that and get off?"
She gave Heather a nervous laugh. “Ha! Right.” She swallowed hard and turned around, busying herself at the sink, hoping her friend wouldn’t see how red her cheeks were.
When she got home last night after her shift, she couldn't sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could see were those light silver eyes staring at her. Finally, curiosity had gotten the best of her, and she googled him. Matthew Lennox.
Catherine hadn't quite decided if it was a good move or not. What she saw shook her to her core. Matthew Lennox wasn't just rich. His family practically owned the town, and he was the new CEO of one of the largest companies in the country. But that wasn't what concerned Catherine. No, it was the fact that he was a shifter. A dragon shifter, one of the few left in the world.
A shiver ran down her back just thinking about it. She should have done more research on Blackstone before deciding to come here. That night she decided to leave L.A. was a blur to her. She wasn't thinking straight. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to go away to somewhere safe. Doing the opposite of what people expected had kept her under the radar for a year while she lived in LA, so she thought it would work the second time she decided to run.
Blackstone was a town full of shifters. It was the last place other shifters would look for her. If she could just keep her head down and stay unnoticed, maybe the Chesnovak Brotherhood Pride would never find her here or even think of looking for her in Blackstone. Besides, shifters were territorial, right? They probably wouldn't take too kindly to lion mafia shifters coming to their town.
But a dragon shifter bazillionaire CEO? Talk about attracting attention. She let out a long sigh. Well, it wasn't like she was going to see him anytime soon. He didn't even come up to the bar to get a drink last night. Not that she was disappointed or anything. Not at all.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she continued making and serving drinks. Her tip jar was looking mighty full, a fact that made her sigh in relief. Having left everything behind, her closet and even most of the apartment were almost empty. Including the spot under her mattress where she kept her meager life savings. Her “contact” didn’t have a safe way to send her a lot of cash, though he was able to provide her with transport away from Los Angeles. She had driven the car west as far as she could go with a full tank, sold it to the first car lot she had found, and then bought a bus ticket to Colorado. She was on her last couple hundred dollars when she came into town, just enough to pay for a few groceries and her week’s rent on the place Tim had helped her find. If the busy tourist season was coming up, it could mean more cash. She just had to ride it out until she figured out her next move.
“Well, that’s a sight for sore eyes,” one of the other waitresses, Olive, said, giving an exaggerated whistle and a nod across the room.
"What?" She followed Olive's gaze, and her stomach did a flip-flop when her eyes landed on Matthew Lennox, standing by himself at one of the cocktail tables, his gaze fixed on her. She wasn't sure if it was because he was closer this time or because he was a dragon shifter, but she swore she could literally feel the heat of his gaze.
“Hmmm, he keeps staring over here,” Olive said and flipped her long red locks over her shoulder. “I should go see what he wants.” She put her hands on her breasts and pushed them up to make her cleavage bigger, then sauntered over to Matthew.
An irritation pricked at Catherine, but she wasn't sure why or where it was coming from. Nonetheless, she had this urge to rip Olive's hair extensions out of her head. The feeling grew and made her chest tighten as she watched Olive lean over when she was taking Matthew's order.
“Excuse me. Excuse me.”
Catherine snapped out of her trance. "Oh, sorry," she said to the young woman waiting at the bar, her face drawn into an irate expression. She quickly took the woman's order, made her drink, and moved on to the next customer, all the while very aware of (and ignoring) the gaze boring into her.
***
It took all of Matthew’s strength to keep his claws from slashing even more of the furniture inside The Den. Shit, I should really send a check to Tim. But he couldn’t help it.
Last night was bad enough, but tonight was worse. Before, most of the guys flirting with her were from Blackstone, and they knew Tim. They would never try anything to disrespect him or his employees. But tonight, these out-of-towner pieces of shit were much bolder. They didn't know Tim or care about what other people in town thought of them.
A group of guys, probably frat boys from one of the college towns nearby, walked in about an hour ago and stayed at the bar. Or more like staked their territory. They never left and made it impossible for anyone else to get near it. And they manipulated the bartender's attention, joking and laughing with her, their eyes raking over her cleavage and God knows what else whenever she turned around and bent over to get something from under the bar.
His blood boiled, and shot after shot of whiskey did nothing to calm him. A couple of those shifter groupies had been giving him the eye, and for a moment, he considered taking them up on their silent offer. It had been a while since he’d been with a woman because he had been too busy the past couple of weeks. But none of the groupies appealed to him. In fact, his dragon was clawing at him each time he considered it. It wanted only one woman.
Matthew considered physically pulling those men away, but it probably wasn’t a good idea. He was a CEO now, and he could just imagine the gossip that would spread through town the next day.
“Fuck this,” he said out loud. He dropped a couple of bills on the table and walked to the exit.
He got all the way to the parking lot and into his Range Rover, but couldn't bring himself to start the car. His fucking dragon wouldn't let him leave; it was clawing and roaring at him. "Goddammit," he cursed, slamming his palms on the wheel. He and his dragon spent his entire life getting along and now this? Was he getting some weird shifter disease? That same tumor that had killed his grandfather?
Matthew sat in the car, stewing in his juices. He waited, watching as patrons began to stumble out of The Den. Watching as it started to empty and the lights inside began to turn off one at a time to signal the remaining customers that it was closing time. Finally, the last of them walked out. It was those frat boys.
“Thank fuck,” he muttered to himself. As he slipped the key into the ignition, he stopped. He saw five of them walk out of the bar. But hadn’t there been six? A dreaded feeling crept into his chest.
His body tensed, waiting. Counting the seconds. The last of the lights turned off outside along with the neon sign. Then, the door opened. It was her. She walked out, bundled up in a puffy coat with her purse slung over her shoulder. There were a few remaining cars in the lot, but she didn't walk to any of them.
Where the hell is she going? Is she going to walk in this weather? Damn woman.
As he started the car, another vehicle pulled up beside her, blocking her way, as she was about to cross the street. He saw the window go down, and while he didn’t see the driver’s face, he could guess who it was. He must have said something to her, but she shook her head and then began walking away. Good girl.
But the driver wasn't taking no for an answer. He got out of the car, reached her in two steps, and grabbed her by the arm. She stumbled back, and he pushed her against the hood of the vehicle, trapping her with his arms.
“Bastard!” Matthew was out of the car in less than three seconds. His shifter side allowed him to move faster, even in his human form, and soon he was pulling the asshole off her. “Get. The Fuck. Away from her,” he roared as he slammed the other man onto the ground, making him scream in pain.
A horrified gasp made him turn around. There she was, pretty face all ashen with wide blue eyes looking up at him.
Mine.
Matthew blinked. What? Mine?
Before he could react, a fist slamming into his side knocked the wind out of him, making him stagger back. Fucking prick. He quickly recovered and then grabbed the other man by the neck and lifted him off the ground.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he gasped. “You’re … choking … me …”
“Stop it! Put him down.”
“Put him down?” he roared. Matthew let go of the man, letting him fall down.
“You freak!” he shouted as he scrambled up to his feet. “This town is full of you freaks.”
“Yeah, well we don’t want your kind here either,” Matthew retorted. “Now get out.”
The man yanked his car door open and slipped inside. “You’ll pay for this, freak. Just you wait. You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
“And you don’t know who you’re messing with. The name’s Matthew Lennox. Look it up.” He grabbed the driver’s side door and slammed it so hard, the entire car shook. From outside, he saw the driver’s face turn pale before the car peeled away.
“What … what did you do?”
Matthew turned around to face her. For a second, he thought he was hallucinating. She was even more beautiful up close. Her golden hair surrounded her face like a halo, making her milky skin glow. Her eyes weren't just blue; they were the color of the sky on a bright day. This close, he could smell her sweet scent, and it was calling to him.
Mine.
There it was again. It wasn’t just the inner voice, but a feeling. She was his. It was a feeling he knew deep in his bones. And he didn’t even know her name.
The annoyed look remained on her face. Wait, was she … mad at him? For rescuing her from that creep?
“What did I do?” he asked in an incredulous voice. “How about thanking me for saving you?”
“Saving me?”
"Yeah. That bastard slammed you against his car. Had his hands all over you." The anger was bubbling up again, ready to burst at the mere memory of anyone touching her.
"I know self-defense," she said. "I was about to scream, and I'm sure Tim would have heard. He's a grizzly shifter, you know."
“Polar bear, actually,” he corrected. Why was he arguing with her? “And you’re welcome.”
She harrumphed. “Fine. Thanks.” She turned around and began walking away.
“Hey!” Where the hell was she going? Using his shifter speed, he got in front of her, blocking her path.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you home.”
Sky blue eyes went wide as dinner plates. “Excuse me?”
“To your home,” he corrected. They could talk about her moving in with him another time. Maybe he should iron out other important details first. Like her name. “I’m Matthew Lennox.”
“I know who you are,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Usually, when someone introduces himself, you should do the same.”
She paused and huffed. “Catherine. Archer.”
There was something off with her voice, a slight accent that would have been indiscernible to anyone else, and one he couldn’t place. British? “Where are you from?”
“Listen, I’m freezing my ass off here; I don’t have time for this.” She turned around, but he blocked her way again. She let out a frustrated yelp. “Stop doing that!”
“I said I’m taking you home. My car’s over there.”
“You’ve done nothing but stare at me like some creepy stalker all night. Why the hell would I jump into your car?”
He supposed she was right. "Okay, fine. Just … let me walk you home then. Or follow you home and make sure you’re safe. I promise I'll stay at least five steps away."
Her shoulders sank in defeat, and she gritted her teeth. "Fine. But don't stay behind me like some creeper. I don't turn my back to …"
“Animals?” he finished.
"Strangers," she said. She turned around, and he stepped beside her, following her as she crossed the street. He wanted to switch to the other side when they got halfway, but she looked skittish enough that he was afraid to make any sudden moves. Despite her confidence, he could smell the apprehension rolling off her.
When they crossed to the other side, she stopped in front of the first building. “Okay, we’re here.”
“What?” He looked up at the small, two-story building that housed the local hardware store. “You live here?”
“Up there,” she said, nodding to the second floor. “Tim helped me get this place. It’s kinda shitty, but I can’t beat the commute.” She fished her keys out of her pocket. “You can go now.”
“Go out with me.”
“Excuse me?”
The words had come out faster than he expected. In hindsight, he probably should have been smoother. “Dinner. Tomorrow night. You eat, right?”
“Yes, I eat but …”
“Then come out and eat with me.”
“I just met you five seconds ago,” she said. “I’m not going out with you.”
“But how am I supposed to get to know you better if you don’t go out with me?”
“That’s not the point.”
“I think that is the point.”
She let out a frustrated groan and slipped her key into the lock. “Look, I’m not looking for anyone right now.”
“I just want to sit down and have a meal with you. I’m not asking you to marry me.” Yet.
The lock clicked, and she opened the door an inch. Matthew resisted the urge to push her inside and kiss her against the wall, even though her sweet scent was driving him crazy.
“I can’t,” she said without turning around. “Th-thank you for getting rid of that guy.” With that, she stepped in and closed the door. The lock clicking into place echoed in his ears.
Matthew stood there, just staring at the door. If he wanted to, no door could keep him out. But he had to respect her wishes. If only there was some sort of textbook or report he could read to analyze the situation and figure out what to do.
He’d just have to wing it.