Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5)

Naya stood up, and he listened to her bare feet tread across the plush carpet out of sight. The door squeaked as it moved, but before it closed, she said, “I just had that couch steam cleaned, so I better not find one stain on it.”

 

 

When the door shut, Wheeler felt his cheeks heat. Was she making the comment because of his shoes, or did she know?

 

He glanced over his shoulder and everything looked okay from the back. Damn women—always making elusive remarks that left a man paranoid.

 

Wheeler flipped over and quickly fixed his pants, feeling like a stupid young wolf before hitting his prime. His phone rang and he pulled it from his back pocket. “Yeah?”

 

“It’s Austin. How’s it going?”

 

“Swell.”

 

“By the sarcasm in your voice, I’m going to assume the opposite. Look, you were the only one available I could trust with this job. I know you don’t like her, so just be thankful I didn’t ask you to stay by her side. Just sit tight in your car and follow close behind. I know it’s boring, but just make sure you let me know if you see anyone acting suspiciously. Especially if you sense a Mage.”

 

“A Mage, huh?” Wheeler washed his hands in the kitchen and then leaned against the counter, drying them with a dish towel. “Want to tell me what all this is about?”

 

“Did I just hear water running?”

 

“Car wash,” Wheeler quickly said.

 

“Right. Well, Naya’s a friend of the family, and she asked for my help. It’s not my business to discuss the details surrounding her request. This is serious, brother. Keep a close eye on anyone around her who looks suspect.”

 

“She works in a strip club. Everyone surrounding her looks suspect.”

 

Austin sighed. “Then pay attention to the men who don’t have bulges in their pants. This shouldn’t be for much longer. She should be okay inside her apartment at night, but just stay on her as much as you can.”

 

Wheeler picked up a potato scrubber shaped like a smiling spud and used it to brush his short beard. “Why couldn’t she just hire a regular bodyguard?”

 

“She has trust issues, like all women,” Austin said with a chuckle. “It’s not like we need her money, but she’s done a lot to help Lexi over the years. I think it’s time we did her a good turn. I’m only charging her so she doesn’t make this into a habit. By the way, Ben wanted me to let you know he’s gone for the night. He said a big tournament is going on and wanted you to keep your phone on.”

 

Wheeler set the scrubber down and stewed for a minute. That meant Ben wanted him on standby so he could hit him up for money if he lost his ass in a game. Why couldn’t his pack see what was really going on? As much of a screwup as Ben was, Wheeler couldn’t betray his brother and tell the pack. He felt responsible for Ben, and unlike the rest of the brothers who were spaced apart in years, he’d grown up alongside his twin and they had developed a close bond of loyalty and secrecy. Maybe because they shared the same genes, turning Ben away would be like betraying himself. Wheeler’s love for his twin was unconditional, even though Ben was the reason he’d almost lost his life in the panther pits.

 

“I’ll call you if I see anything out of the norm,” Wheeler promised. He stroked his chin, thinking about her tires getting slashed, their trip to a body-wax shop, breaking into Delgado’s office, a fistfight with a human at a diner, and then him impaling her sofa cushion with his penis.

 

No, nothing out of the norm about today. Nothing at all.

 

***

 

I sat in my dressing room, chilled by the cool air blowing from the vents. I enjoyed hot weather, and sometimes I thought I might be happier living on a tropical island, basking in the sun. Maybe it had to do with my panther, but it seemed like I was overly sensitive to air-conditioning. The song before my act was still playing, so I waited nervously while the girls finished their dance. The stages were booked except at nine, twelve, and three in the morning. During those hours, one girl got the floor, and it gave others a chance to either enjoy a well-deserved break or earn extra money performing private lap dances.

 

When I’d left my apartment to head to work, it was with a heavy heart. Misha hadn’t returned, and I worried. Wheeler followed behind me in a separate car, suddenly deciding he needed to keep his distance. I thought about when I’d crouched beside the sofa and looked into his eyes. There was such need there—a craving buried so deep that it made me wonder about his wolf. I didn’t know a man could have naughty eyebrows, but Wheeler had them. Pensive and yet slightly arched, like a man thinking about dismantling my outfit.

 

“You’re up,” Daphne said, out of breath. She sat next to me on the bench and used a wet towel to wipe her neck and then armpits. “I swear. Dean needs to turn on a little air out there. It’s a full house and the only air circulating in this building is in this room. What’s wrong? You look like a chicken about to take a swim in the deep fryer.”

 

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