Tamed By The She-Wolf. Kristal Hollis

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      “Yes, you should. There’s at least one customer anxiously waiting to see you.” Miriam shooed her from the kitchen.

      Angeline ducked into the employee room to put on her half apron and grab an order pad before walking into the dining room. Tessa finished taking an order at a table in Angeline’s section then beelined for her.

      “You have two orders in, plus this one.” Tessa handed her an order ticket. “Table twenty should have their food coming out in a couple of minutes. Seventeen just went in. And have you met Lincoln, the new guy in town?”

      Angeline followed Tessa’s gaze to the bistro table for two in the bar where Lincoln nursed his beer. An untouched bottle sat on the placemat across from him. Curious, but definitely not jealous, despite the little kick in her gut, she couldn’t help wondering who would be joining him.

      “He’s really hot, even if he does keep company with Reed—the rat bastard.” Although Tessa had mumbled the last part beneath her breath, Angeline’s wolfan ears had heard every word her recently dumped friend had uttered.

      “Lincoln is my new neighbor,” Angeline said, watching a kitchen helper deliver two steak platters to Lincoln’s table.

      “Lucky you.” Tessa sighed dreamily.

      “No. Not me,” Angeline said, but Tessa had already walked away.

      Over the next hour Angeline had a steady flow of customers and only managed to say “Hey” to Lincoln on her way to and from the bar with drink orders. The beer and food at the second place setting remained untouched throughout his entire meal.

      Periodically, she’d felt him watching her. Perhaps he wanted an explanation for her behavior this morning. She wasn’t quite sure herself. His warning that she should not expect him to become her new confidant shouldn’t have bothered her. She knew better than to expect anything from a Dogman. Though Angeline felt no obligation to provide an explanation for her reaction, she did want to let him know that she wasn’t angry at him.

      Waiting for the bartender to fill a drink order, Angeline casually strolled to Lincoln’s table. The beer for his guest remained untouched. “How was your day?”

      “Informative.” His eyes still looked tired and barely a fleeting smile dusted his lips. “I spent most of the time running the woods with Reed.”

      “He’s a good guy. Smart. Loyal.”

      “Cynical,” Lincoln added.

      “He got shot by a poacher a few months ago.”

      Lincoln swung his left foot out. The hiking boot concealed the prosthetic within. “A bomb blasted me out of a two-story window.”

      “You still have nightmares.”

      “I imagine he does, too,” Lincoln said easily. “Our failures haunt us far longer than our victories stay with us.”

      “He took a bullet for Shane. I wouldn’t call that a failure.”

      “The failure is in believing we are invincible.” Lincoln guzzled the last few swallows of his beer and slammed down the mug on the table. “And learning we aren’t.”

      “You sound a bit cynical yourself.”

      Lincoln shook his head, avoiding her gaze. “Cynicism colors one’s judgment and clouds the vision. What happened, happened. All I can do is adapt and keep going.”

      “Are you waiting for Reed?”

      “No.” Lincoln fiddled with the edge of his linen napkin. “I owe an old friend a steak dinner.”

      “You’ve been a while. Did he take a wrong turn somewhere?”

      The muscle in Lincoln’s jaw twitched. He lifted his sorrow filled gaze. “Died in the line of duty.”

      Angeline’s stomach dropped, a sick feeling rose in her chest and her heart hurt as if it had broken all over again. Not for her loss but for all those who’d lost loved ones, living and dead, to the Program.

      Dogmen turned their backs on everything and everyone they’d ever known. All communication with family and friends ceased. No one ever knew what became of their loved one unless they received a death notification or an injury forced the soldier into retirement, like Lincoln soon would be.

      Long simmering anger ignited Angeline’s tongue. “Instead of eating and drinking with the dead, maybe your sympathies should lie with those he abandoned when he became a Dogman. And, for what? To feed his ego and die who knows where without regard to those he left behind?”

      “Angeline—” Lincoln began.

      “Have you called your family? Do they know what happened to you? Do they know you’re even alive?”

      His guilty look answered for him.

      “Unbelievable!” Angeline barely managed to keep the shriek out of her voice.

      “They’re better off not knowing.”

      “That’s a lie Dogman tell themselves to keep their consciences clear. Speaking from experience, it’s not better. It’s far worse than any nightmare you’ve ever had.”

      Though angry and hurt by Tanner’s rejection, Angeline didn’t immediately stop loving him. Not knowing his whereabouts or his situation had been an unrelenting torture. Until one day when a sharp pain sliced all the way to her soul. In that moment, she knew Tanner was dead. He would never come home to her. He would never come home to anyone, except in a box.

      Despite Lincoln’s request for her not to leave, Angeline walked away and collected the drinks from the bar. Delivering the beverages to appropriate patrons, she caught a glimpse of Lincoln making his way to the exit.

      Good riddance, she thought without truly meaning it. Neither Tanner’s choices nor his fate were Lincoln’s fault.

      A deep part of herself compelled Angeline to apologize for her behavior. Another part of her refused.

      As a Dogman, Lincoln represented the very ideal she hated. She’d lost her first love—her only love—to the Program, and it destroyed the life they should’ve had.

      Lincoln slipped out of the restaurant and Angeline’s heart clenched, a phantom ache that his ridiculous homage had resurrected. It had absolutely nothing to do with the devastated look on his face when she’d left his table.

      And if she told herself that enough times, by the time she got off work she might actually believe it.

       Chapter 7

      “Lila!”

      Lincoln wrenched himself awake before hitting the ground in his nightmare. In reality, he couldn’t remember anything past those first moments of falling out the window. His mind remained blank until the moment he woke up, alone in the hospital at the Program’s headquarters in Germany a week later, missing a leg.

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