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“When was the last time you had beers with the guys? When do you sit around a campfire and laugh about gators soaring through the air? Who do you talk to at the end of the day?”
And when the fuck had he cared about friends? He knew the answer even as he mentally asked the question.
He’d always cared about friends. He’d had no one as a kid, and on the street, loners usually died. The camaraderie he’d found in Wulf, Inc. meant everything to him. And the idea of leaving any of the packs he’d been part of to sit at HQ was akin to death. Even the lure of calling the shots as alpha had been too frightening for him. Leaders didn’t get to pal around with the grunts.
And so, he’d sabotaged every effort to move up the pack ladder. Except now he wasn’t one of the regular grunts either. He was the old guy trying to be as stupid as the twentysomethings. It didn’t work, and with Coffee’s death or disappearance, his last connection to true friendship had broken.
Until Kit.
“I don’t want to be alone,” he said, ashamed of the weakness. “But I don’t fit in with the regular guys anymore. So I guess I turned into an ass.” Damn it, now he was going to have to apologize to Gummy.
Kit touched Yordan’s face, drawing it toward his in a long, tender kiss. And when they separated, he smiled. “What do you think about working together, then? Why not share beers with me every night?”
“And ordering the cubs around during the day?”
“Yeah. We could share the load together.”
Not to mention what they could share every night.
Yordan took a moment to think about it. What he visualized made his heart sing. “I could do that,” he said, his voice thick. “I want to do that.”
“So do I.” Kit grinned. Then he leaned forward for another kiss, but Yordan held back.
“But I have to get Coffee back first. If I can.”
Kit nodded. “I know. I’ve already let Pee know that we’re going to bargain with Gamfay for Coffee’s freedom. But we have to find him first.”
Yordan flinched. “Did you have to—”
“Let the brass know what we’re doing? Yes. But we’re going to have to move quickly before they stop us.”
That worked. “Okay. So we call Coffee as if he’s a fairy? Just say his name three times?” That usually worked with fairies, except Coffee wasn’t one of the fae. He was a wolf trapped in Fairyland.
Kit wrinkled his nose. “Want to guess how many times people say, ‘Coffee, coffee, coffee?’ If he hasn’t appeared by now, that’s not going to work.”
“We could try his real name. Dwayne, Dwayne, and my other brother Dwayne.” He paused.
Nada.
“We’ve got to call—”
Kit interrupted. “Gamfay, Gamfay—”
Yordan took up the call, repeating the fairy’s name a third time with Kit. “Gamfay. Let’s talk.”
“It’s about fucking time,” muttered a voice behind them.
Yordan spun around, Coffee’s real name bursting from his lips. “Dwayne!”
There was Coffee, standing in a ridiculous elf costume. He looked gaunt and miserable, especially with the thin green leash around his neck. And there, holding on to the leash, was a bright, tuxedo-wearing game show host, complete with a microphone and a shit-eating grin.
“Hello, boys,” he chuckled. “Place your bets. Daddy’s ready to make a new deal.”
CHAPTER 14
Bob Barker Did It Better
Damn, Kit really wished he’d taken the time to get dressed. Naked while negotiating with a fairy was just embarrassing. But no time for that now, especially as Yordan was already going aggressive.
