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Chapter One
Knox
“Take the night off. Both of you.” Rafe Astor glared at me and Cade.
Both of us folded our arms across identical, broad chests and glared straight back at him.
Rafe might be an apex predator and the owner of pub Fray, but on Christmas Eve, he was going to need more security than he could hope he could get. Cade and I shook our heads.
“No chance in hell,” Cade growled. “Right, Knox?”
I jerked a thumb in my boss’s direction. “What he says.”
Rafe stared at us across the wide expanse of his mostly bare desk, his face a mix of exasperation and bemusement that suited the cocky son of a bitch all too well. “I host a fucking Christmas Wish holiday party to get people I care about all the fantasies they could dream of, to have whatever they want, and I can’t even get the two guys who work the most for me to take a night off so they can damn well get some on the side without having to shave minutes off on their rostered hours in some random storage closet.”
I winced. The storage closet might have been me, but onthe other hand, it had been Cade who’d fucked around—literally—during working hours. Still, for Rafe, that was one hell of a long speech.
A shadow behind us offered a subtle cough that only brought a laugh to the top of my throat. I fought it down with effort, but Rafe wasn’t finished. “Fuck off out of my office. If I see either of you in uniform tonight or working in any capacity on Christmas Eve, I’ll fire you and let the media eat up what’s leftover.”
The media had been sniffing around Rafe’s ankles, and no one had seen Willow in a bit while she hid from the sport of spotlight she hated, but her significant other thrived in.
It remained an empty threat at best, and maybe a half pay cut for the month at worst. Rafe was a consummate protector, and it seemed to be the blood he ran his business on, which was one of the reasons I worked for him.
Cade and I exchanged sideways glances and offered the boss one-fingered salutes.
“You’re on.” I held the door for Cade while he pranced out like a fucking party pony.
“Out.” Rafe barely contained the laughter that made it into his voice.
“See, I told you he wasn’t a complete asshole,” Cade muttered as he grabbed my arm and swung me out of the room.
“Maybe not always,” I added, winking, fully aware Rafe’s enhanced hearing would have caught every word clear as if we stood in the room beside him.
We headed downstairs and into the club proper. The large, open space was absent of people for a few more hours yet, except for the scant staff members still climbing ladders and adjusting decorations. Fray looked nothing less than an opulent Gentlemen’s club.
The design hadn’t happened by accident, but Rafe hadput a lot of work into making sure that any law enforcement agency who came calling would see exactly what they were meant to see. Obsequious wealth, spoiled, oversized brats, and generally poor taste did its job in concealing the local Melbourne shifter community and their nasty holiday habit.
“We both have an hour left on shift. Do you think Rafe would be pissed if we kept working?” Cade leaned against the bar and waggled his eyebrows at Zoe, who stood behind the bar, wielding a bottle of Grey Goose in each hand.
She flipped him off with one long finger against the side of the bottle and continued pouring vodka one-handed. Row after row of shots lined the bar top. Zoe caught my eye and pushed a full glass my way. I took the offering, knocking back the mouthful and chasing it with a second sweetly tainted nip that collided with a third chaser of the same flavor.
“Oh, boy. One, dammit, Knox.” She whined, catching the shot glasses I tossed her way and shoving them in the dishwasher hidden behind the bar.
“Speak nicely to the man, Zoe,” Cade murmured his admonishment as he downed a pair of his own. She shot him a hard look that he ignored. “Nah, fuck it. If Rafe and Killian want to pack our asses out the door and tell us to have a little fun, then I’m all in. Dressing up?”
I shrugged. “Why the hell not? Are there any costumes out the back?”
****
“I’ve never seen a Santa quite like you.” Lux set my fuzzy red and white pom-pommed hat at a rakish slant across my forehead and tossed back a shot of her own from the remainder that littered the bar before Fray opened for the night. “Too tall, too skinny, and far too fucking cute. Where are the rough men when you need them?”
“Working. We’ve got the night off.”
Which meant Killian and Rafe were on duty, along with a skeleton crew team we’d likely trade off for NYE’s party in a week’s time. Not that I doubted either of the managers were capable of the job, but it would be a high-traffic night with plenty of opportunities for someone to sneak it.
And on a night where anything goes, it wasn’t the time we wanted mini-interlopers invading the club.
“Naturally.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, Killian’s working. When is he fucking not.”
