Magical Midlife Battle （Leveling Up, #8）(53)

Holy crap.”

He slid his thumb beside her lips, smearing away a little sauce before sucking it off his finger.

“It’ll ruin you for other types of barbecue.”

“Probably, yes.” She laughed. “Barazza.” She finished chewing and took a sip of water. “I like that name. Remind me again why you changed it to Steele? I mean…why Kingsley got to keep his name but you lost yours?”

“The name stays with the pack. If I’d taken over for Kingsley, I would have kept my family name, since I’m of the same line. It denotes the generational pack leadership. I started a new pack, though, so I go by a different name. The name the town chose for me.”

“Right, right. But your name on the deed for your house in O’Briens is still Austin Barazza?”

“That’s my legal last name, so yes. Just like yours is Evans. I need to legally change it to Steele; I just haven’t gotten around to it. It’s not exactly important, since I can’t have kids. It can’t be a generational pack, I mean.”

“I need to get rid of Evans,” she murmured. “It belongs to my ex.”

“You can always change it to Ironheart. Or…if you really like Barazza that much, I can keep it as my legal name…if you want to share it with me,” he said quietly, his heart full. It wouldn’t affect his alpha standing, since the world would still know him as Steele. He’d made that name for himself before he ever became alpha. It was his blessing and his curse—by virtue of who and what he was, he was always in trouble, always tumbling with the biggest and baddest around. At least now he had a purpose for it.

Her eyes were so soft when they met his. Her smile, and then her nod, sent fireworks racing through him.

“We’d need to get married for that to apply in the Dick world, though,” she said, and her face flushed crimson. “Since…you know…you built the house when it was primarily a Dick town—”

He kissed her, long and slow. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Her beaming smile tightened him up in all the right places.

“She’s your perfect fit,” Angelica said, coming over with a chocolate brownie and putting it on the table between them. “It’s nice to see you so happy for once, Austin. Really nice.”

“There’s just one problem.” Jess grabbed a corner of the brownie plate. “There is no we in chocolate. So…”

She pulled the plate toward her, sending Angelica into a fit of laughter.

“Yes, oh yes, I like this one!” She put her finger in the air. “No ‘we’ in chocolate. Yes.”

Jess pushed it back, laughing. “Maybe I’ll share just this once.”

After they finished their dessert and headed on their way, Austin brought her to the bar where Niamh and Phil were already drinking. Despite his need to show people he wasn’t afraid of their

threats, he didn’t want his mate uncomfortable or his warm glow diminishing.

Unfortunately, he had a feeling he’d need to make a stand. It was the shifter way. Better to do it around friends.

“So Nessa is hellbent on proving she’s the better cook, huh?” Jess asked as he drove. “What brought that on?”

He grinned. “She probably needs a distraction—or an outlet. I’m happy to oblige. I’ll make her rue the day.”

“And you’re not even doing it as a distraction—you’re just a horribly competitive jerk.”

He laughed at that, parking in the back lot of the bar. “Correct.”

Back in the day, he would’ve entered the back way, keeping his head down and slipping into a spot in the corner. Now, though, he didn’t want anyone thinking he was getting preferential treatment as the alpha’s brother. Even as a visiting alpha.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, the possessiveness in him pumping up in intensity. She veered toward him a little, demurely, tucking into him like it was the only place she’d ever think of being. His power pulsed at that.

Two guys stood outside the door, off to the side. One held a vape, the smoke earthy and sweet, and the other had a traditional cigarette. They both looked his way, one giving him a stare while the other did a double take.

Austin vaguely recognized them, though both carried more weight than when he’d last seen them.

Back in the day, the guy with the beard had struggled to grow any whiskers at all. Both dropped their gazes immediately and shuffled a little farther out of the way.

“King’s Head Tavern,” Jess read as they stepped through the door. “Kingsley’s bar, then?”

“Yup. He’s never been subtle about his purchases.”

The interior had a pub-like feel, with worn wooden barstools, side booths, and a long tabletop that acted as a second bar surface, positioned about five feet away from the bar top. Two posts ran up from the long table top on either side, both covered with various stickers people had brought in over the years. The floor was clean and polished but looked worn, just like the cream walls boasting a variety of sports pictures. It had looked this way since the grand opening some eighteen years ago, always giving off a rustic, neighborhood pub feel. Kingsley knew how to run a business. Austin needed to clean his bar up and affect this style. Then maybe Tristan would stop complaining about sticking to the seats.