Nick

Embry's POV

"Shouldn't your new employee be here by now?" I asked Sam. He and Emily had just had a baby girl. He'd hired someone new so he could spend more time at home. We worked fixing cars. We owned the garage jointly but it felt natural for Sam to be in charge. He was the leader of the pack after all. Nick was moving to La Push and had called looking for a job. We were all a little uneasy about hiring a stranger and an outsider but there were no other takers. We certainly weren't going to volunteer the little time we had to ourselves.

"I knew this was a bad idea," he mumbled. Six members of the pack worked in the garage; Sam, Jacob, Paul, Jared, Quil and yours truly. There wasn't a lot of money in it but we did this for sustenance not wealth.

"Don't be so pessimistic," Jacob said from under a car. "He hasn't even arrived yet."

"That's the point," Quil pointed out from under another one.

"Maybe we'll just have to cut back on business," Sam thought out loud. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with his family. His abandonment issues might have something to do with it. I was suddenly relieved that we weren't phased. Nobody argued. Imprinted people were almost always happy. It was beyond annoying.

We heard a motorcycle driving up. The driver didn't slow down. She came to a screeching stop right behind the car Jacob was under. Everyone else was a little shocked. I wasn't. The predominant feeling was peace. My world had just been set on its axis and I had a purpose. My purpose was a good six feet tall and blond. She was slim and her eyes were the clearest blue. She gracefully dismounted the bike, she was in overalls and boots yet she suddenly made pale any woman I'd ever seen in the most flattering attire.

"Close your mouth," she said to me. That wasn't the start I'd hoped for with the woman I'd imprinted on. Not to mention that it was embarrassing. "Which one of you is Sam?" she asked after pausing one beat for the chuckles that turned very quiet, very soon.

"That would be me," he said studying my face out of the corner of his eye. "What service can I provide?"

"You can tell me where to start," her shoulders went up the slightest bit when she said this. Her voice was hoarse but she wasn't sick. It was natural for her, it was almost breathy, a beautiful alto.

"Where to start?" he stopped looking at me and paid a little more attention to his conversation.

"Nick," she extended her right hand.

"Nick?" Sam, Jared and Paul said at the same time. Quil and Jacob poked out of their holes.

"Nick," she nodded dropping her hand, "Where do I start?" she asked again.

"I was under the impression that Nick was a man," Paul said questioningly to Sam. Who nodded his agreement.

"You're presumptuous," she smiled mockingly at him. "Unless this job requires testicles and chest hair I'd like to know what you need done."

"Embry can show you around," Sam said after I gave him a pleading look.

"Unless there's a secret door, I don't need to be shown around." She shook her head. "I've seen bigger prison cells." She added in a voice I'm not sure was meant to be inaudible. She certainly spoke her mind.

"I'll need him to supervise you on your first project," he pointed to a dented station wagon.

"I'm a mechanic, not a panel beater," she folded her arms.

"You're also a stranger," Sam stood straighter. I guess the alpha didn't need to assert his position with just us.

"Hey King Jock," she addressed me, "You wanna step in this direction?" she pointed at the car with her thumb.

"I'm Embry," I told her as I walked closer. The pack suddenly remembered they hadn't introduced themselves and gave their names.

"I'm better with names over drinks," it sounded like an offer and that was a prospect I could not let slip.

"What time?" I asked eagerly. Her eyes narrowed a little bit. I must be creeping her out.

"There isn't a bar in La Push," Sam pointed out. Great.

"Is that a passive aggressive way to say you don't drink with your employees?" she asked.

"There really isn't one," Jared told her.

"We could all get something to eat sometime," I suggested and looked around for support.

"Meals are for friends, family and people who've seen each other naked," she said, "Strangers have drinks."

"We do have a liquor store," Paul informed. Finally someone was saying something that helped my cause.

"And we all have drinks at my place after work most days," I fibbed. Quil and Jacob were snickering back in their holes. They hadn't seen whatever stupid look I'd had on my face but they were catching on now.

"Are you inviting me over for drink or just giving me information on my fellow employees, Soapie Boy?" she smiled. I didn't know I'd miss King Jock. The smile seemed more genuine so I enjoyed basking in it a little more.

"I guess I'm inviting you for drinks after work," I answered doubtfully. It occurred to me in the middle of that sentence that inviting her over to have drinks with six giants might not seem as innocent as it is, especially with the way I've been looking at her.

"Tell me when you're sure," she tilted her head. I wasn't an awkward person. I'm fairly sure I wasn't being awkward right now but she made me feel like a school boy with a crush. In English, a bumbling idiot. And this was so much more than any crush could ever turn into. "Are you going to come over here? I don't bite," she smiled, "Unless you ask nicely," she winked. Was she flirting with me?

Paul gave me a push. I walked over to her and didn't even hear the conversation that the pack had about us as soon as we'd taken two steps.

"What's your full name?" I asked her while she worked.

"Nikita," she answered.

"Where did you move in?" I asked after a little silence. She wasn't exactly a stream of information and I didn't want to stalk her to get her address.

"I'm homeless," she pointed to a bag on the back of her bike.

"I'm looking to let a room," I said. It sounded far less creepy than move in with me because I can't live without you. I'd lived alone since my mother's untimely death.

"In that case," she said when she'd finished, "Drinks are at my place." If she trusts me enough to live in my house maybe she feels the connection as well. I was only too happy to shadow her the entire day while the pack threw back all the insults I'd been dishing out over the years.

"Would you like to take a ride on my motorcycle?" she asked me after work in a flirtatious tone.

"I'll take a ride on whatever you like," I tried to flirt back.

"Thank fuck," she sighed, "I thought I'd be living with a humourless man with a name from a soap opera." She got onto her bike and handed me a helmet.

"You wear it," I declined. I hoped she didn't do this often. We drove off into the sunset together. Well we drove to the liquor store and sunset was a rare bird in La Push. She dropped her single bag in the living room and opened a bottle of vodka when we got home. When we got home, I savoured. She poured generous amounts into two glasses and bumped hers into mine.

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," she smiled. I wasn't sure if she was serious but something in her eyes told me she might be. Friendship is just the beginning Nikita.