Boarlander Boss Bear (Boarlander Bears Book 1) (8 page)

BOOK: Boarlander Boss Bear (Boarlander Bears Book 1)
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Eventually, Georgia climbed up on Jason’s back and chicken-fought Willa and Matt, which was hilarious, because those bear shifters under the women weren’t going down for anything. It was twenty minutes before they called it a draw and swore to never play again.

“Look,” Aviana whispered, pointing to her belly. She wore a black bikini, and her round belly was rolling strangely.

“The baby is moving?” Audrey whispered in awe.

“Yeah, you want to feel him?”

Audrey locked eyes on Aviana’s to make sure she wasn’t teasing, but she looked serious enough, and Beaston moved his hand to the other side of her belly to make room for Audrey’s palm. With a nod, she touched right over where the baby rolled languidly. How incredible to feel life so new.

“He’ll be a raven,” Aviana murmured, dragging Audrey’s hand to chase the movement.

“How do you know?”

“My mate dreamed it, and he’s never wrong.” Aviana cocked her head in a very bird-like fashion and pitched her voice low. “You
will
bleed Clinton.”

Audrey jerked her gaze to where Clinton sat on a lounge chair, his eyes glowing eerily in the single porch light of the bathhouse. He was staring at her, as if he’d heard Aviana’s prediction.

“That’s not what I want,” Audrey said.

“Don’t want to, but need to,” Beaston murmured low. “Change needs to happen. For you, but also for him.” Beason twitched his chin at Harrison, who was laughing at something Matt said.

Fixing anything with bloodletting was the most barbaric thing she’d ever heard, and goose bumps lifted over her body as she pulled her hand off Aviana’s belly. The next time she looked up, Clinton wasn’t sitting in the lounge chair anymore. He was making his way through the parking lot toward Harrison’s truck with long, deliberate strides, as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

A vision of her sitting beneath the Boarland Mobile Park sign in the form of her white tiger flashed across her mind like lightning. From where she sat, a long, steaming fissure broke the earth and created a yawning chasm between Harrison and Bash on one side and Clinton on the other.

She could suddenly see them—the spider web of cracks Harrison had talked about in the Boarlander Crew.

For reasons she couldn’t understand, Audrey suddenly got the feeling she would be the biggest one of all.

Chapter Eight

 

Harrison ripped the cord of the chainsaw and lowered his sunglasses over his eyes. Settling the blade into the dead bark of the beetle-infested tree, he cut out a wedge and stepped nimbly out of the way when the wind pushed it close to him as it fell.

“Number!” Bash called from sixty yards away where he’d just felled a tree of his own.

“Thirty more,” Harrison said, wiping the number out of his head so he could start over.

Bash was an anomaly. He was a simple man with simple desires, but he was borderline genius with numbers. He didn’t keep notes. He just remembered every calculation at the end of each shift. It was he who had invested their money and built their retirement accounts. Harrison didn’t talk about that stuff with people. Probably everyone thought he and his crew were trash, but even with half his crew cutting out early and taking their shares, he, Bash, and Clinton did all right for themselves, thanks to Bash’s instincts for the market and care with investments.

Bash was also the one who’d dug every bullet out of his body when the poachers had gotten to him. He hadn’t said a word, just reached Harrison first, settled him back, and went to work with this look on his face like he would be good-goddamned if he was going to lose his alpha that day. That was the night Bash had called him his best friend and went to battle with three members of the crew whose animals were scrambling to take Harrison out for alpha when he was too weak to do it himself. He was here because of Bash, but that bear didn’t like mush and compliments. The best gift Harrison could give him for his loyalty was permission to claim a mate and bring her into the park. Bash wanted nothing more, and now, Harrison felt that yearning, too.

Audrey had changed everything.

Yesterday had been one of the best days of his life. He’d become hopeful. His burden had been lightened when he’d laid some of it on her shoulders, and she was a strong woman. She had carried that load with grace and had given him the same advice Creed and Tagan, alpha of the Ashe Crew, had been trying to tell him for months. But it all had made more sense when she’d said it.

He’d found his queen, and that thought scared the shit out of him and excited him at the same time.

Go after the life you want.

Harrison killed the chainsaw and clipped out, “Bash! Clinton! Let’s call it a day.”

“Yeah, boss,” Bash said, like he did every time a shift ended.

Wordlessly, Clinton turned his chainsaw off then pulled his earmuffs off his head and settled them around his neck.

“Six hundred forty-three,” Bash reported in, wiping the sweat of his brow on his arm as he caught up to Harrison. “Pathetic. Damon won’t be happy. We’re holding up the Ashe Crew’s next jobsite. At this rate”—he swung his gaze down the mountain and tallied in his head—“they’ll be sittin’ around for a week before we have this place cleared for them.”

Harrison made a ticking sound. He hated letting the dragon down. Hated. It. Damon had done so much for the inhabitants of his mountains, and he deserved the best from every crew. The Boarlanders weren’t pulling their weight. “We’ll have Kirk and Mason with us tomorrow, and we’ll work until sundown. We’ll catch back up as best we can, but for now, I have to be there when the new crew members move in, and I need to talk to you and Clinton.”

“Crew meeting?” Bash asked, his jet-black eyebrows jacking up.

Harrison ducked his chin once and switched his chainsaw to his other hand as he climbed over the freshly cut trees on the steep hillside toward his truck.

“Crew meeting!” Bash called to Clinton, who was falling behind.

“Yeah, I heard,” he muttered.

Clinton was going to lose his crap today, but this had been coming for a long time.

Harrison lowered his tailgate and set his chainsaw in its case while Clinton and Bash did the same with theirs. He peeled off his sweat-soaked white T-shirt and tossed it in the back before he pulled a clean one out of a duffle bag he kept stocked. Clinton didn’t bother with a clean shirt, as though he expected an uncontrolled Change, which was exactly why Harrison nixed Bash calling shotgun. He made Clinton sit up front instead. If he was going to Change, Harrison had big plans to boot his ass out of his truck, and quick.

“This is about Audrey,” Clinton said in a subdued tone as Harrison jammed the key in the ignition.

“It’s about a lot of things. Mostly, we need to talk about what we’re doing and where we’re going.”

“Why? We’re fine the way we are.”

“Are we?” Bash asked in a dark tone from the back seat. “I’m not. I know for certain Harrison’s not happy. He lost his whole damned crew, Clinton.”

“Are you happy?” Harrison asked. “Answer me honestly, because I can’t imagine anyone with as big a chip on their shoulder as you is really finding joy in their life.”

“No,” Clinton murmured, “I’m not happy.”

“It’s been hard, and for a long time. Can we all agree on that?” Harrison asked.

“Yes,” Clinton and Bash answered.

“I’m lifting the ban on women in the trailer park.”

“Harrison—” Clinton interrupted.

“No, you’ll listen. Your time for talking and sabotaging is through. I’d made that rule a long time ago because some of my bears weren’t ready to treat a woman with respect, and I didn’t want to put some frail human woman at risk in my park. My crew needed time to mature. It was never a permanent rule, Clinton, and I was ready to lift it right as you came to me, begging to be a Boarlander. Because you were so opposed to women in our park, I held off on lifting the ban. Was I right to do it? Hell, I don’t know. Maybe if I’d done this sooner, I could’ve kept some of my boys. Or maybe not. I can’t change what’s been done, but I can do my best to guide what we have left to a better future. I want us happy.”

“But women in this park won’t make me happy,” Clinton said, staring out the window.

“Why? Just tell me the reason why so I can understand why you’ve pushed everyone so hard.”

“Because I’m cursed, Harrison. You think I’m doing this to hurt us? Because I hate women?” Clinton looked sick and shook his head. “I drag hell with me wherever I go. I don’t want any more women hurt because of me.”

Well, that was the realest answer he’d ever heard from Clinton.

“You ain’t cursed, and we ain’t destined to be miserable the rest of our lives, Clinton. I’m lifting the ban—”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“It’s my mistake to make!” Harrison yelled. “I let you run this crew too long, and you know what happens when a low-ranking bear runs things? The whole damned hierarchy breaks down. I put up with too much. I did it because I saw what Creed was doing with his troubled bears, and I thought you would come around if I was a good enough alpha, but you never did. You got worse. I’ve called Audrey, and she’ll be waiting at the park—”

“Dammit, Harrison—”

“I’m not done,” he barked, turning onto a sharp switchback. From here, he could see the park in the valley below. “Ladies are now allowed in the park, and Bash, I’m gonna need you to order some supplies.”

“For what, boss?”

“We’re fixing up the place because we let our home go, boys. That place is a crap-hole. I’m embarrassed to bring Mason and Kirk and Audrey there. Our crew is going through an overhaul, and part of that is improving our territory so that it’s safe and inviting for mates, and someday, God-willing, cubs. I mean, for fuck’s sake, the Grayland Mobile Park looks pristine. And they’re
Gray Backs
. I want that for us. I want a fire pit, a gathering place, a grilling area, a work-out space, a damned swing-set in the back, all of it.”

“I want a door,” Bash said helpfully.

“Yeah, I don’t really know why you haven’t put a new one on. It’s been two weeks since you kicked it down.”

“Because Clinton,” Bash muttered.

“Okay, also, you two need to settle the issue of who is my Second. We need a pecking order, and it needs to stick.”

Clinton had gone quiet, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was shutting down. “I have nowhere else to go.”

“Then don’t go anywhere. I don’t want to lose you, Clinton.”

“This is because of Audrey. She’s making you shake up a system that doesn’t need to change.”

“Look, Audrey is mine.”

“After a few days,” Clinton scoffed.

“And how fast did it take for you to know with your mates, Clinton? Huh? How long until you bonded?”

Clinton jerked a furious gaze to Harrison, then back out the window.

“I called your alpha from a few crews ago. Can’t you see it’s not fair that you got to try to build a family, but Bash and I never get that chance?”

When Clinton huffed a furious breath, the air stank of fur, but he needed to hear this. Needed to accept what was happening.

“How long?” Harrison demanded.

Clinton swallowed audibly. “It was instant.”

Harrison’s stomach clenched at the pain that had tainted Clinton’s voice.

“Holy shit,” Bash whispered.

“Audrey is my mate. I didn’t expect it, wasn’t looking for one, but my bear chose her, and I’m going to work hard to get her to choose me back. She will be a part of this if she wants to be. She makes me happy, and it’s been a long damned time. I deserve for things to go better, and I’m going to work my ass off for life to be better for the both of you. You’re all the crew I’ve got. From here on, I promise, I’m going to do my best to dig us out of this hole.”

“I’m in,” Bash said, gripping Harrison’s shoulder from behind.

“Clinton?” Harrison asked.

But Clinton only sighed the saddest sound and stared out the window at the passing evergreens. As they pulled into the back entrance of Boarland Mobile Park, Clinton said, “You’re a good alpha, Harrison.”

But Harrison hadn’t missed it. That wasn’t really a declaration of fealty.

Clinton had given a compliment for the first time since Harrison had met him, but it sounded an awful lot like a goodbye.

Chapter Nine

 

On Harrison’s porch stairs, Audrey drew her knees up closer to her chest so she could rest the paperwork onto her legs to read it. Today was a tank top and cutoff jean shorts kind of day, so she smiled at the memory of being offered a job at Moosey’s Bait and Barbecue. She hadn’t exactly been dressed for an interview. Moosey’s was nestled in the mountains, located about half an hour before Boarland Mobile Park. Since she was getting here way early and on an empty stomach, she’d stopped in and bought a brisket sandwich.

The joint had been busy, but the owner, Joey Dorsey, had sat down at her table and asked if she had any experience with the service industry. They’d talked for a while, and then he’d brought her an application and told her he was looking for a new full-time server.

The only problem was her confusion on where she fit in this place. Her hotel was down in Saratoga, and she wasn’t about to beg a trailer here. Not with Clinton so volatile.

Last night, after Aviana and Beaston had said she would hurt Clinton, she’d gotten a sick feeling deep in her gut as Harrison had driven her back to the hotel. Clinton and Bash had been silent in the backseat of the truck, but the alpha had talked on happily and held her hand.

She would hurt him if she left here and went back to Buffalo Gap, but she was beginning to think she would hurt him worse if she stayed. Audrey didn’t want to be the last fissure that shattered the frail foundation of the Boarlanders.

The throaty rumble of a car sounded from far off, and her pulse quickened with the thought of seeing Harrison again. Today had felt like the longest day of her life. From the second she’d gotten a call from him earlier, she’d been so ready to feel his arms around her so he could banish all her melancholy thoughts about leaving.

She wouldn’t tell him about the job offer at Moosey’s. They weren’t ready for her to put down roots like that yet, so she jogged over to her Jeep and shoved the application in the glovebox.

The vehicle wasn’t Harrison’s, though. Instead, a classic, forest green Mustang with black racing stripes roared under the Missionary Impossible sign.

She hooked her hand on her hip and waved to the smiling familiar face behind the wheel. Kirk pulled to a stop, his brakes not even letting off a squeak. This was a shifter who took good care of his old muscle car. The dark-eyed man with the longer hair rolled down the window and rested his arm on the ledge. Yanking his sunglasses off, he looked her up and down. “I know you. I saw you at the bar the other night.”

“I’m Audrey,” she introduced herself, offering her hand for a shake.

She liked that he didn’t give her a limp handshake like some men did.

“Kirk, honorary Boarlander.” He released his firm grip on her palm, then ducked his gaze under his lowered sun visor and whistled at the dilapidated park.

“It could use some work,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “Harrison and the boys aren’t off their shift yet, but I can help you move your stuff if you want.”

Kirk sniffed the air. “Are you a shifter?”

With a cheeky grin, she said, “Maybe.”

“Hmm. And you swear you aren’t just being polite? You don’t mind moving me in?”

“Nah, it’ll give me something to do while I wait.”

“Sa-weet.” Kirk pulled up a piece of scribbled paper and scanned it quick. “I’m in trailer six.”

Squinting, Audrey pointed at the first trailer on the left, directly across the gravel road from Harrison’s. The number six had disappeared off the siding near the broken porch light, but the chipped paint still showed the discolored outline of the number. “There she be. At least you have a door.”

“Well, that is a bright side, I guess,” Kirk said with a good-natured chuckle.

She liked him already. At least he wasn’t pitching a tantrum at moving into an ancient singlewide with weed landscaping.

He took a wide birth and backed onto the cracked concrete pad in front of trailer six. He hadn’t brought much, just enough boxes to fill his back seat and trunk, so she stacked two of them in her arms and followed him up the sagging porch stairs and through the waterlogged front door. The inside, like Harrison’s, surprised her. It was clean and fixed up. Even the floors felt sturdy where she’d expected them to be rotted straight through. Also like Harrison’s trailer, there was a kitchen on the left, a bedroom beyond that, and a large living room that took up the space on the right side.

“It’s better than I expected,” Kirk murmured. “Set the boxes down over there, if you don’t mind,” he directed her, twitching his chin to a two-seater couch. “I’ll unpack them later.”

By the time Kirk’s belongings were unloaded into the living room, the sound of Harrison’s truck echoed through the valley, and something much bigger, too. An eighteen wheeler, perhaps.

Harrison pulled his giant pickup in front of his trailer and locked eyes immediately with her. He’d looked troubled, almost pained the instant before, but as she jogged down Kirk’s stairs, his lips curved into a stunning smile.

She ran to him and caught him just as he got out. He hugged her tight and lifted her feet off the ground, then angled his head and kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in a week instead of just a day.
Just a day.
That term didn’t mean the same as it did a week ago, when each day looked just like the next, and just like the one before.

If she left him, it would hurt deeply.

“I missed you,” she admitted in an emotional whisper.

He drew back and cupped her face, his brows lowering, worry pooling in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Her voice would tremble, so she shook her head and kissed him again. The noise from the eighteen-wheeler was deafening now against her oversensitive ears, so she covered them with her palms as Harrison shook Kirk’s hand and pulled him in for a mannish hug and resounding back clap. She was glad he was much gentler with her.

The big rig came into view as Bash and Clinton filed out of Harrison’s Chevy, and together, they stared in confusion as a truck pulling an old singlewide trailer behind it rumbled slowly through the park. With the hiss of brakes, the massive semi came to a stop in front of them, and Beaston rolled down the window. “I come bearing gifts.”

A dark-headed man leaned over and gave a two fingered wave.

“Hey, Mason,” Harrison said. He eyed the mobile home Beaston was dragging. “You know we have a trailer for you here, right?”

“Oh, this isn’t for Mason,” Beaston said. “My alpha and the alpha of the Ashe Crew are giving this to you.”

“To me?” Harrison asked.

“No.” Beaston jammed a finger at Audrey. “It’s a gift for her.”

Mason hopped out of the passenger’s side of the truck, and Beaston pulled on through.

Stunned, Audrey looked at the old cream-colored mobile home with its dark shutters and painted red door. It looked like a squirrel had tried to chew a hole through it to get in. But when she saw the crooked numbers by the doorframe,
1010
, chills blasted across her arms. She rubbed her hands over her forearms to warm herself up, and beside her, the tall, dark-eyed boar shifter gave her an odd, knowing smile.

“That old trailer is magic. Take good care of her, and she’ll take good care of you.”

“Oh, but I don’t live here.”

“Uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” Harrison said, his frown still following the progress of the trailer to the end of the road.

“Do you want to be a Boarlander?” Bash asked excitedly and way too loud.

“Bash!” Harrison reprimanded.

“Sorry.”

Audrey giggled and pressed her cool palms against her cheeks.

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Harrison muttered, “Excuse us for a minute.” He gripped her elbow, then led her closer to his trailer and away from the others.

“Look, I asked you to come by for a reason. That hotel you’re staying in is thirty-five bucks a night. That’s over a thousand dollars a month, and I know you can’t stick around and keep paying that.” Harrison stepped closer and pulled her hands away from her face. He gripped her fingers as he smiled and lowered his voice. “And every time I think about you leaving, I get this panicky feeling, like I’d be losing a piece of me that I only just found, you know? I’m not asking you to move in with me or to pledge under me. I know it’s too early for that, but I want you here. For a day or for a week. I’ll take whatever time you’re willing to give me.”

“But I don’t know if I belong here. I’m different than you and the others, Harrison. I’m a tiger, not a lumberjack werebear.”

“And he’s a gorilla,” Harrison said, pointing to Kirk, “and he’s a boar.” He pointed to Mason. “And I’m yours. I’m asking you to stay, Audrey. Here. With me. You don’t have to pledge to my crew. Just…stay.”

“In ten-ten,” she said on a breath as she looked at where Beaston was settling it at the end of the road. It did look inviting with the pink sunset and piney mountains behind it.

Harrison cupped her cheek and kissed her, then eased back by inches. “I wish I could give you more, but this is all I have—a shitty old trailer park, a half-crazed crew of idiots, and this.” He pressed her palm against his chest, right over his drumming heartbeat.

“But what about Clinton?”

“I already talked to him about the changes that will be happening. About you.” Sadness washed through his eyes. “Clinton will have to be fine with it.”

But when Audrey looked for Clinton, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Harrison sighed. “He’ll get used to this. Just like you, Kirk, and Mason will have to adjust to life here. Clinton doesn’t like change, but I have to fix things, and it won’t happen without a complete shake-up. You’re part of that. Not the hard part. The good part.” Harrison grinned and dropped down to one knee.

“What are you doing, ridiculous man. Get up.”

“I’m on my knees, begging you, kitty. Pick this place. Pick me.”

Her eyes prickled with tears as she looked around Harrison’s dilapidated trailer park.

This could be her home. This could be where she grew her roots deep and strong.

She could be happy here.

Dashing her knuckles under her eye to catch a tear, she nodded. “Okay.”

Harrison stood in a blur and cupped her neck, pressed his lips against hers. She’d thought because of the growl in his throat he would be rough, but his mouth moved surprisingly gently over hers. As he eased away and rested his forehead on hers, he whispered, “I’ll make you happy here, Audrey. I’ll give you a good crew, I promise.”

And she heard it. That strong, steady tone that he’d told her to listen for.

Down to her marrow, she knew that Harrison—
her Harrison
—was telling the truth.

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