Page 7 of Targeted By Love

I was just putting it out there. Awkward as fuck. I didn’t care. This might be my only chance to see him, and I wasn’t going to waste it beating around the bush.

“Yeah, I’m coming to the reception.” He leaned in close and whispered, “And for the record, I missed you too.”

5

MAYNARD

We spoke, and I used all my strength not to drag him into the bushes and smother him with kisses.

Rhodes had best man responsibilities, so I strolled into the manor house while the wedding party was taking photos, guests were congratulating the newlyweds, and wait staff circulated with glasses of champagne. Slipping one of the staff a fistful of cash, I ensured I’d be sitting where I had line of sight to the main table.

You’re not going to shoot him, are you?

No. He’s our mate!The expression line of sight was one that slid into my head when prepping for a hit, but now, instead of a bullet, I wanted to gaze at my target and drink him in.

I sidled outside again via a side door and pretended to sip champagne. There was no scenario, whether as a potential lover or a hitman escaping justice, that involved me getting drunk or tipsy. The sensible part of my brain said to leave now, refund the advance, and get out of the hitman business. Not completing a job could lead to me being a target.

But the other side of my brain was filled with images of Rhodes from our school days, him in his tux as he chatted to a guest, and what he might look like under his suit. My bow tie was restricting air flow, and I wished I could remove it.

Your breathing is fine. A little fast perhaps. Now my wolf was a physician.

Sweat trickled down my back, a rare occurrence unless I was racing away from a job and still in my skin.

This would be the most reckless act of my life, and considering I was a hitman with many kills notched onto an imaginary belt, that was huge. Mingling with the guests, angling for an opportunity to speak with Rhodes, and maybe making a fool of myself, what was I thinking?

But I hadn’t committed a crime—not today anyway, unless making a hefty commission in my day job was illegal.

I shoved a hand around the back of my neck and fiddled with the hair on my wig before stroking the fake beard. If Rhodes and I got to talking and went on a date, I’d say I shaved and cut and colored my hair. It was a flimsy excuse, but he wasn’t part of my world, and hopefully, it wouldn’t be a blip on our horizon.

Being around people, other than family that consisted of my five brothers and our folks, was not where I was most comfortable. Even they weren’t aware about the precise details of my sideline activity, as I told them I cleaned up messes. They were wise enough not to ask for deets. And here I was in a group of people I didn’t know and desperate to be with my mate, when it was unlikely, no matter how well we got along, that we’d mate tonight.

Rhodes was human.

And he wasn’t part of the mafia.

Two strikes that muddled the future. I imagined tentacles wrapping around me, constricting my chest and squeezing the air out of me, forcing me to do fate’s bidding. The universe had given me the finger and screwed me around.

But there was no one else but Rhodes.

Though there was another option.

Ignore the mating instinct, leave the reception, and walk out of Rhodes’s life. I’d never mate. Or I could but it wouldn’t be a love match. And I’d never put an omega through that, for what? To have a companion? Be a dad? Nah. I might end people’s lives with a bullet through the head, but I refused to break an omega’s heart.

Cheering and clapping interrupted my thoughts as the wedding party walked into the building. I snuck off to the side, hoping no one was looking at me, while staring at Rhodes who was glancing around as if he was looking for someone. His eyes locked on mine, and my heart leaped at his shy smile.

Meeting my mate had screwed with my head. Instead of scanning the joint as I normally would when in public, I had eyes for one man. The one who had been the target but was no longer.

Targeted by love, my beast crooned.

Whoa!He’d gone from a hard-nosed hitman’s accomplice to a sappy, lovesick partner.

Mate, he corrected me.

Wishing I could fast-forward the food, toasts, and the ridiculous speeches, I picked at the meal, made small talk with the guy nextto me, and clapped and cheered on cue. This was tedious, and thank gods Rhodes and I would never have to endure a wedding ceremony and reception.

I pulled myself back because we had to get to know one another again. He might have someone in his life, though I doubted it. His gaze held a hint of promise, one that included me. But him being human, he’d expect the ceremony and the speeches and throwing those flowers that no shifter would choose because the stench was overpowering.

And I’d agree to all of it if he was at my side.