Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(4)

God forbid a straight guy gave the infamous gay wolf the wrong idea.

Right then, Tony resented his new reality more than he could express.

"You know where I should stash these bottles?" Chris asked.

"I'll take care of them," Tony said, suddenly wanting him out of there. "I know where Nate keeps things."

Chris glanced down at the boxes and rubbed his jaw. When his gaze returned to Tony, it very carefully said nothing. "Your pack left you to clean up by yourself?"

"I'm gay," Tony snapped. "Not infirm."

His own words made his face go hot. To his amazement, they made the tiger smile. "I didn't mean that. I just don't think it's right for me to dump this job on you if everyone else did too."

"Oh," Tony said. "Sorry, I--"

"Forget it," the tiger said easily, apparently unfazed by his snippiness. "You must have had people assume stupid things about you a time or two."

"Yeah," Tony said, relieved he hadn't inadvertently offended someone who was bound to have an impact on Nate's new life. "Nate's storeroom is over there. If you stack the boxes inside, that'll be fine."

"I'll unpack them," the tiger said. "I'm Chris, by the way."

"Tony," he responded automatically, forgetting Chris had said he already knew. "Tony Lupone."

Shutting up, he tried not to blush furiously.

The tiger's mouth curved again. It was a nice expression, hinting at mischief and wry humor--like he'd get any joke anyone told him. Somewhat to Tony's horror, the smile caused his dick to swell.

"I'll get started," Chris said, picking up the first box.

Tony watched him all the way to Nate's storeroom, remembering too late that this was a bad idea. His mouth was dry when he finally looked away, his cock so hard it probably was getting tooth marks from his zipper. Tony wanted to adjust the thing but feared drawing attention. He was lucky Nate's very open kitchen had a big island to hide behind.

The tiger returned for another crate and then disappeared again. From the sound of it, he was filling Nate's wine shelves efficiently. "I heard you organized the work on the roof," he commented from inside.

Tony's mental gears weren't turning over smoothly. "Work?"

"You got a bunch of cops to spend their time off installing the plantings and whatnot."

Whatnot? Evina's big tough second said whatnot? Tony shook himself more alert. "My alpha put out the call for volunteers. I just oversaw who turned up."

Chris emerged from the storage room, his smile mischievous again. "I heard you rode herd on them pretty hard."

"Well, Nate is particular," Tony said. "He'd have minded if they did a crap job."

The tiger braced straight-armed on the opposite side of the island's black marble top. "You surprised them," he said conversationally. "They didn't expect the low man on your pack's ladder to be so assertive."


"They told you that?"

Chris shrugged his massive shoulders and cracked a grin. "People tell bartenders all sorts of things. To be honest, I wish our omega had your confidence. Shifters tend to rely on bluster when they feel insecure. That's not safe when you're doing a dangerous job."

Tony had a hard time believing Chris's low man really was insecure. The beta's energy was too reassuring for that to be likely.

"Our alpha is no bully," he said aloud. "And my big brother has my back if I need it."

He usually had his back at least. Tony coming out had been an adjustment.

"Rick," Chris said, naming him with no trouble.

Tony's brow furrowed over him knowing that. Then the light bulb flashed. "You're diplomatting me."

Chris lifted one eyebrow. "Diplomatting you?"

"My pack and your clan will be thrown together once Nate marries Evina. You want to make sure we get along. That's why you're being friendly."

"Wouldn't I befriend your alpha if that's what I was up to?"

"I'm the baby," Tony said triumphantly. "You couldn't choose a more endearing route to my alpha's heart than being nice to me. Plus, I'm an easy target."

Chris snorted out a laugh. "An easy target. Why do I doubt that?"

"Because you're flattering me."

Still smiling, Chris shook his head. His gaze came to rest steadily on Tony's. His irises were an unusual color, closer to tigerish orange than plain brown. God, he was good-looking, his strong, sculpted features reminding Tony of an antique hero out of Greek myth. Chris looked like he'd grab a bow and aim at a God . . . or maybe seduce one. Lust shocked in fresh waves through his already heated body. Possibly the reaction showed. Chris's face went serious.

"I'm not flattering you," he said.

His voice was a fraction deeper than before, almost as if he were turned on too.

No way, Tony thought. True, his gaydar wasn't perfect; he hadn't had sufficient opportunities to calibrate its dial. This guy, though, read totally straight to him.

"So, uh," Tony said, "if you were a spell pack, where would you be?"

"A spell pack?"

"For the dishwashers. They won't work right without their special soap."