Nevada must have sucked her gum down her throat because she horked it onto the counter and went into a coughing fit. When she recovered, she gasped out, “You want to sleep with Torren for money?”
“Um, no. Well…maybe. I want him to take me out a few times first to see if this is even something I would be able to do and still live with myself.”
“Are you a p-p-prostitute?” Nevada whisper screamed.
“What? No! I’ve never slept with anyone for money. I just dance. For people. For money.” Ew, she was feeling guilty and a little judged right now. “I need the money and also…” She swallowed hard and struggled to finish her admission.
As Nevada searched her face, her eyes softened by whatever she saw there. “Also what?”
Candace’s eyes burned and blurred with instant stupid tears. She shrugged. Well, what the hell? She didn’t have anything to lose—that was the beauty of rock bottom. “Also, I want an adventure. I want the chance at a new friend. The chance at getting to meet someone outside of my job. Outside of my life. The chance to get out of the routine of sleep, worry over money, dance, and feel…”
“Horrible?” Nevada asked softly, brushing her fingertip over her scarred cheek.
“Yeah. Sounds silly, asking about some weird arrangement with a gorilla shifter I don’t even know. But that’s where I’m at.”
“You want a change?”
A tear slipped to Candace’s cheek, and she dashed it away quickly, gave a curt nod. “I would give anything for a change,” she said thickly.
Nevada’s eyes were rimmed with moisture, and her smile trembled. There was utter honesty in her voice when she murmured, “I understand.” And then she scribbled an address on the back of a bookmark and slid it across the counter. “Be here at six. The boys don’t like to wait on dinner. I’m sure it’ll be something classy like hotdogs and beer. Dress accordingly.”
Completely relieved, Candace giggled and wiped her damp cheeks again. “Sounds perfect. My shift doesn’t start until nine. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Candace held up the bookmark and gave her one last smile. “Thanks.”
Nevada’s cheeks were still bright red, and she seemed to be at a loss for words as she dropped her gaze again to the stack of bookmarks. She must be very shy.
“C-C-Cinnamon?”
“Oh, my real name is Candace. Candy is what my boss used to call me. Then he changed it to Cinnamon because red hots are his favorite. Pointless story, sorry.”
“C-Candace. My crew is gonna go through Hell. The boys…they’re beasts. I just thought you should know before you go tonight. Are you human?”
Candace gave her a wicked smile and shook her head. “I know better than to go after a pairing with a silverback as a human. I’m a shifter, born and raised, not bitten.”
“Huh,” Nevada said, looking at her with slightly narrowed eyes and her chin lifted a little higher. “Me, too.”
Candace walked backward toward the door. “Oh, I’ve known about you Foxburgs for a long time. The boys aren’t the only beasts in your crew, are they, Nevada?”
“No, they are not,” the woman said just as Candace let the door swing closed behind her.
That woman might have a shyness problem, but Candace knew about foxes. Vicious little critters when given the chance. And Candace could be a vicious little critter, too.
As a rogue, she didn’t usually feel safe around big, dominant shifters, but she was at a crossroads, and the silverback was more interesting than intimidating right now.
Usually everything scared her.
But right now?
Nothing did.
Chapter Three
Nevada was acting weird.
Torren took a long drag of his beer but didn’t take his eyes from the only female in the Sons of Beasts Crew. She kept looking at him, little sideways glances, and then she would look out the humongous front windows of Vyr’s mansion as though waiting for something to happen.
There. She did it again. And her hands were shaking. She was never nervous around him and Vyr, so what the hell was happening to her now?
“Is there some fox war we don’t know about headed our way?” he asked when she did it again.
“Fox war? Ha,” she said nervously. “Vyr burned the hair off half the den. I don’t think we have to worry about them anymore. I’m gonna take the meat to the grill. Bye!” She gave him the strangest, wide-eyed look and then bustled into the kitchen.
She gathered the plate of hot dogs and burger patties out of the fridge. And now Nox was also watching her with a frown, like he smelled a rat, too. “Nevada? You okay?”
“Ha. Hahahaha. Haha. Of course, you silly gooses!”
“Geese,” Vyr deadpanned from his spot in the recliner closest to the stone hearth with the blazing fire. He always took the warmest spot, the greedy dick. “The plural form would be geese. Why do you smell nervous, little vixen?”
“Me? I’m not nervous! I’m just hungry. And ready to eat. And starving.”
“Is this code for you need emergency sex?” Nox asked in the most serious tone Torren had ever heard. “Because if so, we need to work on a code word or something. You’re confusing me. And my dick.” Nox looked at his lap and stuck out his lower lip. “My dick is confused.”
“Do you ever think about the words that come from your mouth before you speak them?” Vyr asked Nox.
“No. Why would I do that?”
Nevada snorted from the kitchen, pursing her lips against a smile.
“Oh, it’s funny that your mate talks before he thinks?” Vyr asked. “I’m seriously asking because I truly don’t understand you two. You just…put up with him?”
“That’s what the L-word is about,” Nevada said. “To me, it isn’t putting up with him. I get him. He makes me laugh.”
“He exhausts me,” Torren muttered.
“I’m going to eat seven more hamburgers than Torren tonight,” Nox said, pointing the neck of his beer bottle at him. “And then you’ll respect me.”
“False. You’ll win zero respect because I’m about to eat a dozen burgers, real-man style, and you’ll be sick if you try and compete. And then Nevada won’t like you anymore, and me and Vyr will be like ‘finally!’ and then she’ll fall in L-word with one of us and we can kick you out of the crew. The end.”
“I hate-love you,” Nox growled. “And I’m gonna fight you later for saying Nevada would fall in L-word with you. She can’t. You’re hideous, and you’re a smelly ape.” Nox lifted his blond brows like he’d clearly won this round.
“Who is that?” Vyr asked, his narrowed silver eyes on the woods outside.
Torren didn’t see anything yet, but he heard the rattle of a struggling engine. It was a small car with a mountain of problems under the hood if the awful screeching noises were any indication.
“It’s Cinnamon!” Nox said, waving out the window at the maroon and rust-colored Volvo that struggled its way toward the circle drive. The thing coughed a cloud of black smog from the tailpipe and squeaked to a stop.
“Did you give her my address?” Vyr snarled. Whoo, the Red Dragon sounded pissed.
“No,” Nox said. “I’m not trying to get eaten, Beer.”
“It’s Vyr.”
“Okay, Deer, and I gave Torren her cell phone number. If anyone gave her the address, it’s probably him after all-night phone sex because—”