Primal Heat(Wild Lake Wolves Book 3)(3)

By: Kimber White



Blood shot straight to my toes, leaving a hollow space in my chest. Well, I already had the internship and I knew Foster’s office was in a bind. My life was my life, and I wasn’t ashamed of it.

“I’ve worked in restaurants primarily since I was old enough to get a work permit, sir.”

“Waitress? Bartender? That sort of thing?”

Foster’s eyes were questioning, but not judgmental like Dale’s had been.

“Yes, sir.”

Foster slapped a hand on the table. Dale jumped. I didn’t. He pointed a tanned finger at me and his face split into that politician’s grin again.

“Perfect! You know, I get young suits coming in here with their chests puffed out and resumes thick as my thigh. They worked for this professor or that law firm. Whatever. You want to know what I find? Retail clerks. Waitresses. People who know how to think on their feet when some asshole’s standing in front them blaming them for every damn thing that ever happened to them. Those are the people who don’t flinch and get shit done, Dale. Life is messy. Non-linear. You get beer spilled on your shoes, feta cheese down your apron, and loudmouths trying to push you around. But you do your job. You already know that, don’t you Abby?”

“Yes. Yes I do, Congressman Foster.”

Foster threw his head back and laughed, revealing a row of pearl white veneers. He thrust his hand across the table, prompting me to shake it again. I did. This time, he clasped his other hand over mine and smiled.

“Good hire, Dale,” he said. “I gotta feeling about her. Now put her to work on something that matters.”

I rose to my feet, my hand still in Foster’s, and straightened my skirt. Dale grumbled something beside me then gestured back toward the door. Foster let me go and was already fumbling for something else on his desk. Dale closed the door behind us.

“That went well,” he said, somewhat begrudgingly. “You never know if you’re gonna get Good Landon or Bad Landon. Consider yourself lucky for now.”

I was already learning that taking a neutral stance with Dale was likely the wisest course. We went back to my desk and he got me set up with Lexis passwords and a stack of files on a few new bills coming to vote in a few weeks. I wanted to introduce myself to the rest of the staff, but Dale didn’t so much as look their way through any of it. Mercifully though, he soon left me alone with my files and government-issued laptop. I got started, immersing myself in the files first.

Much later, the growling of my stomach indicated the passage of time. I’d been at the files for hours. I might have carried on like that. I had an apple and a protein shake in my messenger bag and planned to work straight through until someone told me to stop or they cut the lights. Dale finally walked out of his office and stood in the open doorway of the congressman’s just as I got through the last file. I rose from my desk intending to ask either of them what they’d like from me next.

I got just as far as Dale’s shoulder when the elevator doors at the end of the hall opened behind me and every hair along my spine stood on end.

My back stiffened and a whoosh of air skittered across my neck. The ground thudded with heavy footsteps. Their owner moved with the force of an avalanche as he strode down the hall toward us. My eyes traveled over muscled forearms where he’d rolled up his crisp white dress shirt. His red tie swung across his broad chest as he charged toward Foster’s office. As he passed me, I got an eyeful of his gray designer suit pants tailored perfectly over his taut rear end. My eyes caught Dale’s as his mouth gaped open. It took him a second, but Dale recovered long enough to speak.

“You can’t just barge in here.”

The man turned, his eyes blazing hot. My blood simmered and heat shot straight through me. He was big, built, with piercing blue eyes that flashed bright. Another werewolf, to be sure. But, this guy was different. Commanding. Scary as hell. And gorgeous.

“Like hell,” he said, his voice sending a vibration straight along my spine. He held up a rusted metal object in one hand and headed toward Foster’s desk. Foster leaned back in his chair and fixed a lopsided smile on his face.

“Here we go,” Dale whispered near my ear. “Pay attention. This might be your next project.”

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