Boarlander Bash Bear (Boarlander Bears Book 2) (3 page)

Emerson giggled that pretty tinkling sound, like a metal knife on some fancy wine glass. “Okay, shoot.”

“Okay.” Bash swallowed hard and pulled the folded-up flyer from his back pocket. “There’s this party at Sammy’s, and I know you said it isn’t your scene, but I was wondering if you wanted to go. As friends.” The last part was bitter in his mouth, but he was fishing, and a good fisherman was gentle with the lure.

“Oh. Well, what kind of party is it?”

“My friends are throwing it for me, so I can find a mate.”

“A mate?” she asked, her voice sparking with shock.

“Yes. I’ve been ready for one for a long time but girls in the trailer park was against the rules for a long time. My alpha just lifted the rules, so I’m lookin’.”

“You want a mate?” she whispered.

“Of course. I want a lady and cubs and a little family to fit in with my big family, the Boarlanders. The party could be fun. Kirk told me the top three contestants that I choose drink for free, and I already pick you, so you wouldn’t have to buy a single drink. I know you aren’t wanting to be a mate, but we could have some fun. You could help me pick a good girl to take out.”

There was something odd in her voice when she asked, “Will you pick a mate that night?”

“No, no. Kirk says I need to take my time. I need someone who eases the hurt in my chest like you do.”

Emerson was quiet for a long time, and just as he was about to ask if she was still there, she asked, “What should I wear?”

“Anything. You would look pretty in a T-shirt or a dress or pajamas or naked.”

Emerson gave off another soft giggle, and he sighed and leaned back in his office chair, reveling in the sound of her happiness.

“Okay, I’ll go. What time is your party?”

“It’s Wednesday at seven o’clock. I can pick you up if you want.”

“Oh, Wednesday. Well, I’m on a deadline for work so I might show up a little later. Is that okay?”

Disappointment clogged Bash’s throat for a minute, but he couldn’t just nod. She wouldn’t see it through the phone. He cleared his throat and told her, “Yeah, that’ll be fine. I’ll put your name on the list at the door, so don’t wait in line. Just go straight to the front and tell Ray your name.”

“Whoa, like a VIP? That’s fancy, Bash.”

He switched the phone to his other ear and rocked gently in the chair, his reflection on the computer screen grinning big. He liked the way she said his name. “Yeah, super fancy. Good luck with your deadline. We have deadline numbers here, and they suck to hit.”

“Thanks, I need it. This article needs a lot of work.”

Her voice had gone all dark and unhappy, and he wondered what it was about, but he didn’t know the rule about what was appropriate to ask and what wasn’t. He didn’t want to scare her off with his bad manners, so instead he said, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me either. I promise I’ll help you find a good mate.”

The smile fell off his face in the reflection. “You’re a good friend. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Okay. Bye, Bash.”

“Bye, Emerson.”

He hung up the phone and stared at the screen until the glow went black.

He should feel happy right now after talking to her for so long, but instead, the ache was back.

The past two days had gone by at a snail’s pace. For one, Bartleby had fought every single attempt of hers to tame down his hate-filled article against shifters, and two, she had counted down each dragging hour until tonight when she would get to see Bash again.

As much as she tried to fight the thought, she had a massive crush on him, but the same thing had happened last time she was this close to her artificial insemination appointment. She’d backed off before, cancelled it for a guy, and he’d been a huge waste of time that spanned two years.

When the nurse at the woman’s clinic called her name, Emerson blew out a steadying breath and stood. With a polite smile, she passed the nurse and made her way to room three as instructed. Since she’d been tested and deemed fertile, she’d gotten out of the rigorous medications that would force her ovulation, which was saving her money, but it also meant she had to nail down exactly when her ovulation would happen this month. She’d been peeing on ovulation tester sticks and doing blood work all week, and this morning Dr. Mallory had called her in for a last-minute appointment.

When the stately redhead in the white doctor’s coat came in staring at her clipboard, Emerson’s pulse kicked up like a racehorse out of the gate.

“Okay, I wanted to bring you in here before the procedure to prep you for what to expect.” Dr. Mallory sat in her rolling chair and smiled brightly. “We got confirmation that your sperm sample has been ordered, tested, and is en route here, and from your bloodwork, I think we will be able to inseminate you on Friday.”

“Two days,” Emerson murmured.

“That’s right. Now, we may have to do several before it works, or you could get pregnant this month. I’ve found no reason why you would have any problems, but sometimes nature, and in this case science, can take more time. Or it could take no time at all.”

Emerson huffed a long, shaking breath and clenched the sides of the table to stop her hands from trembling.

Dr. Mallory’s thick red brows furrowed. “Emerson, are you still sure you want to do this?”

Well, she’d been one hundred percent sure before Bash had shared his cheese fries, but now she was about eighty percent sure. “Can I ask you a theoretical question?”

“Sure. Ask me anything.”

“If I had a friend, and this friend met a man who was excited to be a parent, and that theoretical man happened to be a shifter…what would the protocol be for asking him to be a donor?”

Dr. Mallory straightened up as her blue eyes went round. With a quick glance at the door, she rolled closer to Emerson and lowered her voice to a whisper. “There would be no protocol because it’s not legal for me or any other medical professional to collect or administer donor sperm from a shifter. And this question needs to stay in this office.”

Shocked, Emerson asked, “Why?”

“It’s not my place to speak about this.”

“But…you’re my doctor.”

“Emerson, I’m going to tell you this once, and then you need to put this idea out of your mind. Riley of the Ashe Crew gave Diem and Bruiser a surrogate baby years ago, and it attracted the wrong kind of attention.”

“What kind of wrong attention?”

Dr. Mallory dipped her voice to barely audible. “Not everyone is pro-shifter, and Riley, a human surrogate, produced a dragon. A
dragon
, Emerson. It’s not legal for humans to make those kinds of medical interventions anymore. They have to breed on their own.”

“But—”

“Emerson,” Dr. Mallory gritted out. “If you have further questions about what is going on between the government and shifters, ask Diem and Bruiser. Or ask Cora Keller of the Breck Crew. Ask
shifters
. The government could shut down my clinic and ruin me for life in an instant if they even knew I was discussing this with you.”

“Okay, okay,” she said soothingly. “I’m sorry I asked. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

“Great,” Dr. Mallory said, looking flushed and panicked. “Then we’ll do everything as planned on Friday, and you’ll be better off with a normal human baby.”

Normal human baby. But Bash was normal, even if he wasn’t entirely human. He was nice and considerate, and he made her heart beat faster and butterflies flap around her insides. He wanted children…er...cubs.

And now her eighty percent sure was down to sixty-five percent sure she wanted to go through with this. Everything was so confusing, especially with the baffling information dump Dr. Mallory had given her.

Emerson walked out of that clinic like a zombie in slow motion, stumbling over the carpet, completely distracted.

Something was going on behind the scenes that she and the public had no clue about. Maybe the shifters didn’t even know.
They have to breed on their own.
Shifters were people, too, not just animals. And what if a pair of them had fertility problems? They weren’t allowed medical intervention? That didn’t seem right, or ethical. Sure, she’d seen anti-shifter propaganda on the rise after the discovery of dragon shifters, but that was just people reacting to their fear of the unknown. But with this new information, it was clear it wasn’t just civilians who were fearful.

The government was on the defense from shifters reproducing too fast.

Emerson drove home in a daze, waving distractedly to every car she passed because that’s what everyone did in a small town. She still had a final round of edits to do on Bartleby’s stupid article before Bash’s party tonight, and she definitely needed some time to process her feelings on everything that was happening. Two more days until insemination would’ve been exciting a few weeks ago, but now she felt like she was walking slowly toward a frigid river without the ability to stop her legs from forward movement. She still wanted a baby more than anything, but now having the father be some stranger felt a lot scarier than it did before. If she did this, there would be no chance for her and Bash to have any kind of relationship. But if she didn’t, she was right back where she’d been for the last decade, searching for a partner to build a family with, and hoping it happened soon.

At the duplex she lived in, she pulled into the drive and hefted her purse to the front door. A giant Moosey’s Bait and Barbecue Styrofoam cooler sat on the welcome mat, and with a frown, she lifted the lid. There were dry ice packs around the edges, and in the center was nestled frozen packages of short ribs, burnt ends, brisket, and jalapeno sausage with directions on how to heat up everything. There was even a container of creamed corn and a jar of Moosey’s World Famous BBQ Sauce.

With a baffled grin, Emerson pulled out a folded note that had been taped to the side.

Emerson,

One of my friends told me ladies like when men send them flowers, but I spent way too much time trying to figure out what kind you liked, so I got you meat instead.

See you tonight.

Bash

Well, that man knew just how to lift her mood. Her melancholy thoughts puffed away like dandelion seeds on the breeze. This was way better than flowers.

With a big old grin on her face, Emerson dragged the heavy cooler inside.

And now her sixty-five was down to fifty percent.

No matter how many times she patted her hair down, Emerson wasn’t going to tame her locks. Giving up, she clapped the mirror on her visor closed and shimmied out onto the curb of the main drag of Saratoga. She’d tried to find a spot in the parking lot of Sammy’s Bar, but the closest she could get was two blocks away.

She straightened her cherry red eyelet sundress and pulled her dark-wash jean jacket over her shoulders, then made her way down the sidewalk, her glossy black heals clopping with each step. She’d bought this outfit from the boutique just for tonight and felt like a million bucks. Or at least she did until she saw the line outside of Sammy’s had snaked around two sides of the building. All these women were here to seduce Bash.

Her gaze bumped and bounced from one beautiful, made-up woman to another until she was drowning in a sea of hair spray and sex-appeal.

What was she doing here?

No less than three women pitched a fit as she made her way past the line and to the front entrance where a bouncer, Ray, held the Bash Babes at bay.

“No cuts, beautiful,” the bald, muscle-man said without looking at her.

“Uhhh, Bash said I’m on the list.”

“Emerson Elliot?”

“Y-yes. That’s me.” She handed him her ID before he asked for it.

Once he checked her name, he grinned and turned his clipboard around. It was just a piece of computer paper with her name written across it and nothing else. “The list is short tonight.” Ray twitched his head toward the door. “Go on inside.”

Flattered to her teats, Emerson mumbled her thanks and made her way into the bar.

This was her first time in Sammy’s, and it was a lot different than she’d imagined. The lights were dim and hanging from exposed, dark wooden rafters, and every square inch of floor was covered in mismatched tables and shifter groupies.

A tiny woman with straight, dyed-red hair popped her head in front of Emerson’s face. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Startled, Emerson jumped and squeaked, but a bevy of beauties currently leaving the bar looking angry stopped her escape.

The redhead cackled and handed her a shot glass of something that smelled strongly of poison. Whiskey, she’d guess.

“I’m Willa. Bash told me to bring you straight back ’cause the bar skanks won’t let him move.” Willa threw her head back, gulping her own shot of what looked like orange juice. “I’m on juice shots tonight because I’m currently trying to get knocked up by that burly beefcake in the corner.” Willa pointed to a group of sexy giants gathered beside the stage. “You know, I don’t think Kirk and Jake planned this out very well because we can barely move in here and everyone reeks of pheromones.” She jammed her hand forward. Her nails were painted black with little pink slivers on them. “Worms. Red wigglers, specifically. I like your nails, too. Red like the sex-pot you are, raar.” Willa clawed her hands and winked behind her thick glasses. “Down that shot, girl. You’ll be holding court at the bar with Bash, and the ladies in here are territorial.”

“Oh, okay,” Emerson said uncertainly. Was she allowed to drink? Dr. Mallory hadn’t told her not to, and she still had two days until insemination. She supposed this was her last hurrah, which left her a little breathless to think about.

“Bottoms up, beautiful,” Willa said, pushing Emerson’s shot glass toward her lips.

Well, okay then. Emerson gulped the burning liquor and yelped when Willa grabbed her hand and yanked her forward, maneuvering the crowd like a pro. The music was loud, but really good. The Beck Brothers of the Ashe Crew, Brighton and Denison, were rocking out on stage, and Willa lifted her empty shot glass in a silent cheers to them.

Brighton grinned and jerked his chin in a greeting as he played a solo on his guitar. Emerson had heard they were good, but now she realized she’d truly been missing out by avoiding Sammy’s.

On the way to the bar, she was nearly squished to oblivion as she played the ball in a perfumed pinball machine of women.

Bash stood a head taller than everyone around him, and as Willa told her, “I’m going to get you another shot,” Emerson came to a stop just to take him in.

Women swarmed around him like bees on a hive, but he couldn’t look less interested if he tried. He wore a slight frown in his dark eyebrows, and his eyes had lightened from forest green to a blazing lime green that made her heart stutter in her chest. His jet-black hair was messy on top, and his facial scruff trimmed short. His gray T-shirt was tight through the chest and shoulders, and there was a dark spot across the front, as though someone had spilled on him. He leaned forward to listen to one of the ladies beside him, but when she yelled something against his ear, he winced like it hurt and clenched his jaw so hard a muscle twitched there.

She’d never seen a more stunning man in her life.

“Bash,” she said at normal volume, just to experiment.

Bash’s gaze collided with hers instantly, and his lips transformed into a breathtaking smile.

“’Scuse me, ladies,” he murmured as he detached from three sets of claws and made his way to her.

Emerson’s heart drummed hard enough to rattle her chest as he approached.

“Hey,” she said when he squared up to her.

His hands slid onto her waist, and he pulled her in for a hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

She closed her eyes and hugged his neck. “You, too.” She meant that with her whole heart. “Thank you for the barbecue.”

He eased back, blazing eyes eager. “Did you like the present?”

“I freaking loved it! So, I was thinking—”

“Time’s up,” a brunette in bright red lipstick announced, pulling on Bash’s arm.

He gritted his teeth and let off a low growl. The woman must not have noticed because she kept tugging at his bicep, but Emerson was close enough to feel the vibration on the air. She rested her hand on his chest, and the sound settled. “It’s okay. This is what you’re here for. I’ll ask you my question later.”

Bash pulled his arm out of the woman’s grasp and cupped the back of Emerson’s neck. For a brilliant, heart-pounding moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, but he lowered his lips beside her ear instead. “This isn’t like I thought it would be.”

“What do you mean?” she asked breathlessly.

His chest heaved under her palms. “I thought I would be happier on the hunt, but I just want to hang out with you.” His lips brushed her ear, and she went weak against him, leaning heavily. “Layla, I choose her,” he said to the blond bartender trying to keep up with everyone’s drink orders.

“Finally,” Layla called with a wink. “Anyone else?”

“Me!” several woman around them said, raising their hands.

“Just her,” Bash said with a hard look for the brunette pawing at his arm again. He swung his gaze back to Emerson. “Ask me quick.”

“Oh! Uh, I was wondering if maybe after this you wanted to come over and have some of the barbecue you got me.”

His face went completely slack so she backpedaled. “If not, it’s no big deal.”

“No, no! I want that,” he said as he was dragged away. “It’s a date. A friend-date. Willa,” he called across the bar. He twitched his head toward Emerson.

“I’m on it!” Willa yelled, and when Emerson looked up, the tiny red-head was crawling down the bar top on her hands and knees, pushing two sloshing shot glasses across the shiny surface in front of her. She was getting nowhere fast.

With a laugh, Emerson waved to Bash, then snaked her way through the crowd toward the bar to make Willa’s apparent job as bodyguard a little easier.

“Oh, my God,” Willa groaned as Emerson reached her. “This is crazy. Who knew dangling a set of bear balls in front of the groupies would result in pussypalooza. Look at these crazies.” Willa leaned back on the bar top, her legs folded under her as she looked exhausted and downed another shot of orange juice. “No offense.”

Emerson snorted, took the offered shot of whiskey out of her hand, and downed it. “None taken. This is my first time here, and I just came because Bash invited me.”

“Yeah, come on bear-tamer. Bash said you’re some kind of recluse and in need of friends.” When Willa slid off the counter, her black miniskirt hiked up, exposing some purple striped cotton panties. She didn’t look embarrassed, though. Instead she gave a statuesque, sandy-haired man up near the stage a wink as she straightened her skirt back into place and murmured, “The trick to getting a hot man to bone you is granny panties and glasses.”

Okay then.

Following along closely, she nearly bumped into the back of Willa when she stopped in front of a pair of oversize tables with a group of people sitting around them. The speaker was turned off on this side of the stage, so it was quieter here, and one by one, Willa introduced Emerson to her Gray Back Crew. Emerson shook all their hands and committed their names to memory. Creed, Gia, Jason, Georgia, Matt, and some of the bears were back at the Grayland Mobile Park. Damon and Clara had a kiddo with a bedtime, and Beaston and Aviana were due any day now. Willa leaned closer and called over the music, “You’ll have to meet Bash’s Boarlanders later. Clinton pitched a huge fit when he found out about this, and he and Harrison bled the shit out of each other, so Audrey is back at the trailer park cleaning up the mess, and Mason and Kirk are in no-man’s land.” Willa pointed her wormy nails to where Bash was talking to a couple of titans with solemn looks on their faces. “They’re trying to keep order so Bash can meet everyone, but I’m calling it now. There is no way he will meet everyone tonight.”

“Yeah, the line is almost all the way around the building,” Emerson said. “I feel bad, though. Bash asked me to help him pick some good potentials.”

“Ha! Bash isn’t picking anyone but you tonight. Look at him.” Willa jerked her chin toward the bar.

Sure enough, Bash’s eyes were on Emerson. She answered his smile with one of her own and pointed to the hallway with the restroom sign over it.

Yes
, he mouthed with a nod.

“Go get your man!” Willa whooped with a sound smack on Emerson’s ass.

“Anyone need another drink?” Emerson asked, happy to be talking with actual people instead of pretend friends.

“Tell Layla and Kong we’ll take another round when they get the chance. We’d sure appreciate it,” the dark-haired alpha of the Gray Backs said as he hugged his mate, Gia, tighter on his lap.

“Sure. I’ll be back!”

It wasn’t so crowded here near the stage, but the closer she got to the bar, the more congested it was with women desperate to get their two minutes with Bash.

When she reached the end of the bar top, Layla set another shot in front of her and winked. “For the chosen one.”

“Thank you!” Emerson called over the country song the Beck Brothers were playing. “The Gray Backs are ready for another round when you get a minute.”

“Yep, I’ll get on it. Thanks, girl.”

“Emerson,” she introduced herself, offering her hand for a shake.

“Layla. That big gorilla over there is Kong.”

“Your mate?”

“That’s right!” She wiped down the bar with a quick swipe of a damp rag and gave Emerson a little wave before she went back to work.

The third shot of the night downed, she hissed at the burn in her throat and made her way carefully through the crowd to the hallway just as Bash announced, “I have to take a leak!”

She giggled at the funny way he said things. Damn, she really liked him, and now he was shunning all those pretty ladies to come spend a stolen moment with her in the hallway. Or at least she’d thought that was the plan until Bash came charging at her from the bar and ushered her into an office. He shut the door behind him and locked it, then pressed his forehead against the door and sighed. “This was a bad idea. How early do you think I can get out of this?”

“Bash! You’re supposed to be looking for your happily ever after.” Why was she encouraging this? She got green with jealousy every time she saw a woman paw at him.

He turned and crossed his arms, leaned back on the door. “My happily ever after don’t feel like it’s in that bar.”

“You’re the one who wants a mate,” she murmured, pressing her shoulder blades against the wall next to him.

“But you don’t.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I did before. I really, really wanted a partner, but it didn’t work out the way I planned. Some people don’t find their other half.”

“You ain’t dead, woman.”

“Bash…I have to tell you something.”

A knock sounded on the door, and a woman said in a whiney voice, “Baaaaaash. Come out and play.”

Bash threw the door a dirty look and then pulled Emerson between his splayed legs so close to him she could feel his warmth soaking into her skin.

“You look hot as fuck. And I know I shouldn’t say that stuff because Audrey says real ladies don’t like being talked to like that, but it’s the truth. I like your dress.” He fingered the tiny gold medallion necklace with her initials engraved on it—a gift from her sister for her last birthday. His finger brushed her skin, right above her breasts, and his eyes were locked on her collar bones. Bash’s intense attention dumped warmth between her legs.