Page 17 of Sight of Fate

Fifteen? Brr. I’m going to need a few more clothes. A neon sign depicting a wolf’s head and the name of the restaurant appears, and Teague pulls into the parking lot. The Wolf’s Den is rustic with dark wood siding and a wraparound porch. Based on the number of cars in the parking lot, it’s popular.

I get out, and Macklin frowns. “What?”

He tilts his head toward the SUV. “Next time, wait for Teague or me to get your door.”

Is he serious? I stare up at him, and he raises a challenging eyebrow. I guess he is. “Okaaayy.” Wind slices through my sweater, and I unfold my coat. Before I can do anything else, Macklin takes it and holds it out for me. Tensing, I put it on, then quickly step away.

There’s always this feeling of push-pull with my gift and the scars I carry. I wish I didn’t have to fear someone’s touch and the vision it could bring on, or worry whether someone’s hand on my back will trigger the past. Because I ache to be normal, to hug and kiss, to go out with friends or on a date. Almost like tonight.

When I round the SUV, Teague leans in. “Everything okay?”

Did I frown or something? “All good. Just hungry.” I can’t help but stare at him. In jeans and a dark grey V-neck cashmere sweater, Teague looks good. Too good. He and Macklin make quite the pair.

Teague narrows his eyes, but after a second, he leads me into the restaurant. Macklin flanks me on the right.

It’s hard to see anything with the two of them surrounding me like bodyguards, but I can’t say I mind. Not only does it make me feel safe, but who wouldn’t want to walk into a restaurant with two incredibly gorgeous men? I swear, after tonight, I’m going to have to up my daydream game. Maybe play this night out as if it’s a date instead of them including me like I’m a pal.

An insanely stunning woman with ice-blond hair and turquoise eyes greets us. She must be every bit 5’11” or 6’ with curves in all the right places. I can’t help but think that’s the kind of woman who should be with them.

“Teague, Macklin.” Her gaze flicks to me, then back to them. “Three for dinner, or will Andros be joining you?”

“Just the three of us, Brita,” Teague replies. “Corner booth, if you have one.”

She checks the tablet in front of her and nods. “Right this way.” Grabbing some menus, she heads toward the dining room, with us following. “Alexander will be with you in a minute.”

Teague tenses. “Is there anywhere else we can sit?”

For some reason, this makes her laugh. “Sorry. We’re pretty packed, and this is the only booth available. Unless you want to sit at that table?” She points to the single empty table in the middle of the room.

“No, we’ll sit here,” Teague replies in an irritated tone. “Thanks, Brita.”

Her lips twitch as she sets the menus down, then she winks at me and leaves.

Teague motions for me to scoot into the center of the large, curved booth, then he takes the outside. Macklin sits on my other side, across from Teague. My neck tingles, and I flick a glance at the other tables. It’s like the coffee shop all over again, but this time there’s also an inordinate number of women staring at the two men beside me.

Me. The girl who never went to prom. Or had a boyfriend. Or felt the least bit sexy. Who couldn’t relax enough the one time I did have sex to enjoy it. Too worried his touch would trigger a vision. Or he would see my back and be repulsed.

I might not be on a date with them, but those women don’t know that, and their envy bolsters my confidence. With a small smile on my lips, I pick up the menu and read the long list of food. Apps. Ten different kinds of burgers. Salads. Chicken fingers. Wings.

Surprisingly, the prices are pretty reasonable, which is a relief. Starting my new job on Monday means I can splurge a little.

Teague leans over. “Anything look good?” His sterling eyes darken, the grey eclipsing the blue as they slip to my glossy lips and linger there for a second before he clears his throat.

“Mm, the cowboy burger with onion rings,” I reply, fighting the urge to lick them. “What about you?”

“The black and blue with a salad,” he tells me before leaning back, his attention solely focused on me.

Flustered, I glance down at the menu and see it’s a burger with blue cheese crumbles; my nose wrinkles.

He laughs when he sees my expression. “Note to self. No blue cheese for Charli.”

“Nope.” I laugh.

His gaze drops to my smile, as if he can’t look away. And when I lick my lips, he inches closer.

Macklin raps on the table, making me jump. Teague swivels his head toward the young man walking toward us. Lanky, with boyish good looks, he suddenly pales, then pivots on his heels, heading back to his seat. Teague turns to Macklin with a satisfied smile.

“Hey, Teague, Macklin,” a deep voice says. “And hello, gorgeous stranger. What’s your name?”