Another long silence. I glanced up and found Mr. Tattoo watching me and paying zero attention to the designs or his boss. I frowned right back at him, wanting to tell him to pay attention, but instead of looking even the least bit chastised, a grin started to peek through the mask of his beard. My cheeks heated and I debated looking away or pretending not to be completely distracted by the charming smile and bedroom eyes. I was a professional, damn it.
“Lawson,” Evershaw said, and I snapped my attention back to him. But he seemed more interested in where I petted the cat instead of how I ogled his friend. “Cricket likes you, I take it.”
“Cricket?” I glanced down at the massive beast that purred and wrapped his arms around my wrist to keep me petting him. Maybe Mr. Tattoo mentioned the name before, but I hadn’t processed the implications. “Seems like a... petite name for a cat this big.”
Evershaw grunted. “You don’t know the half of it. He’s the biggest asshole in this house.”
“I find that hard to believe.” The words escaped before I even registered what I’d thought. I snapped my teeth together before anything else horribly offensive made their way out of my mouth.
Mr. Tattoo laughed and shoved upright from where he’d leaned on the chair, and I damn near smiled in response. I barely managed to keep my composure and meet Evershaw’s rather grim look with one of pure innocence and light. Maybe I hadn’t meant to call him an asshole right to his face. Maybe I had. Who could tell? They were just words.
But judging by the look on the blonde dude’s face, though, he knew exactly what I’d meant. And I wasn’t likely to get the job. I’d be lucky if I walked out of the house instead of getting thrown out on my head.
“You’d be right,” a dry voice said, and I looked up in time to see a dark-haired woman meander into the living room from the back of the house. She carried a pitcher and several glasses on a tray, and didn’t take her eyes off me as she approached. “Care for some sun tea? I live with a bunch of wolves, you see, so no one remembers their manners.”
I rose from my seat to help her maneuver the pitcher and glasses to the coffee table, and moved my designs so they wouldn’t be ruined by the condensation. “Tea would be lovely, thank you. I’m Percy Lawson.”
“I’m Deirdre,” she said. She poured me a glass of iced tea, poured herself one, and gave a pointed look at the two men that communicated they were on their own. Deirdre picked up Cricket with one arm, grunting with the effort, and occupied his spot on the loveseat. She didn’t seem to notice the feathers that poofed up when she sat. “Now. Where were we?”
Mr. Tattoo piped up. “I think the architect called Evershaw an asshole, and he was trying to come up with a response.”
“Yes,” Deirdre said. “That sounds about right. Well, Miles?”
I froze, petrified that they’d just flat-out stated what I’d only implied – and then challenged the boss with a response. This was the weirdest fucking job interview I’d ever been on, and it hadn’t even really started.
Chapter 4
Dodge
Dodge almost proposed on the spot when she muttered about Evershaw being an asshole. He damn near giggled with approval. And he ignored Evershaw’s glare. If the alpha didn’t want mockery, he wouldn’t have insisted that Dodge remain in the witch’s house. Dodge didn’t have any reason to behave himself; he wasn’t Henry, and he wasn’t trying to be.
The poor architect, Ms. Persephone Lawson, looked embarrassed at her slip, though. Or maybe she was furious because Evershaw was deliberately being a dick to test her restraint. Well, it was possible Evershaw was testing her restraint and whether she could actually work with the pack without getting offended or running away screaming from the craziness. It was also entirely possible that Evershaw was just being himself, which trended toward dickishness even on a good day.
Dodge kept an eye on her, though, to make sure she didn’t get too freaked out. No reason to chase her away so fast, especially when Dodge liked watching her so much. Her prickliness when the alpha asked about her name made it clear she didn’t suffer fools. Dodge figured she was the perfect habitat-making-whatever to create a safe spot for Silas to chill until he could shift back to his human form.
Deirdre’s arrival at least guaranteed that the interview would get to the facts, instead of turning into a tete-a-tete between Evershaw and the architect. He didn’t want to call her Percy. It didn’t fit her. Didn’t fit the prim and proper academic in the buttoned-up suit and tasteful heels. Definitely didn’t fit the pearls and wrapped-up bun that he wanted to unfurl. He suddenly wanted to know how long her hair actually was, whether there was enough to wrap around his fist. Whether she’d mind a little tug in the middle of hot fucking.
He blinked and raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”
Deirdre fixed him with a dark look and pointed at the armchair he leaned against. “If you’re going to stand there staring at Ms. Lawson, you might as wellsitthere and stop looming over all of us. And stop being a creep, Dodge.”
He disliked the descriptor but figured it might have been apt, if he’d been gazing at Lawson the whole time and hadn’t noticed. The architect studiously avoided looking at him, instead pointing out things on her designs to Evershaw as the alpha pretended to pay attention. Dodge sighed and flopped into the armchair, since his wolf side wanted to stick around and hear what else proper Ms. Lawson had to say.
The alpha’s mate carefully swept her dark hair over her shoulder and sipped her tea. “Now, Ms. Lawson. We have the lot behind and the one diagonal from the house that are available for development. The block adjacent is the garden; we won’t be doing much with that.”
“It’s quite a garden,” the architect said. Her dark eyes flickered to Dodge and then away. “What is it you intend to put on those lots? I assumed from the call that you needed a habitat designed, but if there’s some other architectural requirement, I can point you to another specialist.”
“We have some very specific requirements for a... habitat,” Deirdre said slowly, choosing each word with care. It was one of the things Dodge liked most about her, almost more than her ability to hand Evershaw’s ass to him on a silver platter without even really trying. The witch knew how to phrase things so she definitely told just enough of the truth so she didn’t lie, but you didn’t quite see the trap until it closed around you.
She stirred her tea and tapped the spoon against the lip of the glass. “It’s a unique set of needs. I saw some of your work at the Municipal Zoo and thought you did a marvelous job with the orangutan enclosure.”
Lawson’s cheeks turned pink at the compliment, and she genuinely looked surprised. “Thank you. I’m not publicly credited with that habitat, though, so I’m not sure how you discovered...”
“My wife is very determined,” Evershaw said, and Dodge snorted. Determined. That was one word for it. The alpha gave him a dirty look before going on. “She was impressed and took the effort to research. And here you are.”
“Yes, here you are,” Deirdre said. The way she said it sounded less like a threat and more like an observation.
The architect looked between them, trying to gauge who was more dangerous maybe, and finally folded her hands in her lab. “Tell me more about the unique needs and what precisely you’re looking for.”
