Loaded: A Bad Boy Romance (24 page)
Read Loaded: A Bad Boy Romance Online
Authors: Roxie Noir
T
his is also
where I put out calls for ARC readers, so if you want to get a free review copy of my next novel (hint: I have a
thing
for cowboys), sign up!
L
a Carretera
, Chavez Heights, Rampart 18th, Chavez 13, and the Beverly Hills Resort are all fictional.
On the other hand, Calabasas, Encino, Los Angeles, Ballarat, Lone Pine, Bishop, Yosemite National Park, Portland, and pretty much everything else are real.
I
love writing sexy
, alpha men and the headstrong women they fall for.
My weaknesses include: beards, whiskey, nice abs with treasure trails, sarcasm, cats, prowess in the kitchen, prowess in the bedroom, forearm tattoos, and gummi bears.
I live in California with my very own sexy, bearded, whiskey-loving husband and two hell-raising cats.
Here’s your free BONUS book, Shifters & Soulmates!
N
athan revved
his bike’s engine, sitting at one of three stoplights in town. He knew it was probably pissing off the shopkeepers of Fjords, Alaska, but he reveled in the sound echoing off their brick-and-glass storefronts.
If he had to attend this engagement party, then he could make them listen to his racket. He already knew that Violet, his alpha’s mate, was probably going to murder him when he showed up on his motorcycle, but he didn’t particularly care. She couldn’t actually
do
anything to him, and this terrible party wouldn’t even have alcohol.
What kind of party was a dry party, anyway?
The light turned green and he roared forward, shooting ahead of the cars at the same intersection. For a moment, he considered not going to the party, just taking the bike up the mountain and driving around for a few hours.
But then Brock, his alpha, would be pissed, and his opinion actually
did
matter. Nathan’s job was security, though he didn’t know how much he’d have to do at a party with no booze. He sighed again and gunned his motorcycle into the gravel parking lot of the Fjords Room, his town’s most upscale event space.
That wasn’t really saying much.
“I thought you were going to wear a tie,” said Violet when he walked up to the door. She and Brock stood outside, greeting all the North Star clan members as they made their way inside.
He could hear the acid in her voice, but he didn’t really care what Violet thought.
Nathan shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
“I don’t have one,” he said, meeting her steady blue gaze.
He clenched his jaw, determined not to be the first one to look away, and he wasn’t. Instead, her eyes took a long, steady trip down his body, disapproval practically dripping from her face.
“No jacket, either?”
“Nope,” said Nathan.
Brock, the North Star clan’s alpha, wasn’t paying attention to them. Instead he was looking over the men and women trickling into the building, and Nathan could tell that he was mentally ticking off who was there and who was late.
“Well, we were hoping to impress our visitors,” Violet said, pursing her lips. She looked up at Brock as she did, seeking backup.
“It’s fine,” he said distantly, his eyes still roaming over the mostly-gray landscape, looking for people in the parking lot. “You know the Yukon City clan is somewhere between religious fanatics and rednecks.”
Nathan’s eyebrows shot up, and Violet looked around quickly, to make sure that no one had heard him. Brock had been trying to get the Yukon clan to agree to this betrothal for weeks.
“No one heard me,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He, of course, wore a dark gray suit, tailored to perfection.
Finally, he looked Nathan in the eyes, coming back to earth.
“You’re at the front table, on security.”
Nathan nodded. He was always on security. It was, after all, his role in the clan. The enforcer.
“You expecting anything?”
Brock shook his head. “No. They seem like they ought to know how to behave, but there are some cousins of the bride’s coming from pretty deep into the country. I don’t get the impression they spend a whole lot of time as humans.”
Inwardly, Nathan groaned.
It was true that being a bear was in their nature — it was in his nature, too — but there was such a thing as too much bear time. If you didn’t shift back into human form at least sometimes, you tended to go feral. Your social graces and manners went to shit. You roared and tried to claw other people at the smallest slight. You might start throwing your wine glass around, just because someone said the wrong thing.
In short, they were a lot harder to control.
“I expect Jonah’s got them on their best behavior, though,” Brock said, going back to scanning the parking lot. “He does have an impressive level of control over that clan.”
The words sent a slight shiver down Nathan’s spine. Was a level of control like that what Brock wanted, as the North Star clan’s alpha? It sure seemed like he already had a hold over them.
“I’ll head in now,” Nathan said, nodding his head at the alpha mates. They nodded back, and he bounded up the steps to the Fjords Room.
In some past life, the Fjords Room had been a fishery, perched perfectly on the rocky edge of the water, leaning over the sea on enormous columns. Then, sometimes in the past fifty years, the fishing business had changed, moving further out into the ocean. Now, fisherman mostly processed fish on their own boats, making buildings like this one obsolete.
All the others had been torn down, but the town had managed to save this one, completely remodeling it into a big room with a kitchen. The sort of place where people held weddings or big parties.
Or, in this case, a betrothal, whatever the hell
that
was. Not that it really mattered to Nathan, since he’d understood for years that he’d never get married or have a mate.
Opening the big wooden door, Nathan scanned the room quickly, but nothing really stuck out to him. Boring, nicely dressed people milled around tables, drinking water and coffee. No one would quite make eye contact with him, and when they did, they looked at him and then at the floor, almost as if they were slightly afraid of him.
Nathan knew he had a reputation, and tried not to let it bother him. Enforce the rules of an alpha as rigid as Brock and you got one after a while, he thought. It didn’t really matter.
He wished again that he were somewhere else, doing something that interested him even a little.
I can’t believe this is a dry party
, he thought again.
Instead, he sauntered over to a side table, where there were a dozen platters full of cookies, pastries, and other sweets, all covered in a thin layer of plastic wrap. The sight of them made his mouth water, and he wondered when the last time he’d eaten had been.
Well. It had been lunch, two hours ago. That didn’t make the desserts any less appetizing, though.
Not even bothering to be sneaky, he lifted the wrap on an incredible-looking platter of some kind of chocolate-filled tart and grabbed one from the edge. He replaced the wrap messily, and then lifted the confection to his mouth and bit in.
The crust offered just a little resistance and then his teeth sank into the chocolate center, soft but firm at the same time. It practically melted on his tongue, and it tasted absolutely divine, like the fanciest chocolate he’d ever tasted, but
fancier
.
He groaned, deep in his chest, very quietly.
Just as he was taking another bite, the kitchen door swung open and someone came out, carrying a huge cake on a cake stand.
Then she stopped short, just in front of him.
“Are you eating the mousse tarts?” a female voice asked, accusingly.
Nathan had just sunk his teeth into another bite, and his mouth was full as he looked down to see who’d just accosted him.
He forgot to chew.
She had curly red hair, pulled back, and bright blue eyes. Freckles smattered across her nose and cheeks, with high cheekbones, a strong chin, and perfectly plush lips. The kind of lips that Nathan could just imagine pressing his own against, or even better, the kind of lips he could just imagine wrapped around his cock, pumping up and down...
She was still staring at him, eyes flashing with irritation, and she put the huge cake down in the spot reserved for it, then wiped her hands on the apron she wore.
“They’re wrapped up for a reason,” she snapped, glaring at him. Then she pushed past him to the platter he’d disturbed, wrapping the plastic tightly again.
When she was close to him, Nathan felt almost high. She smelled
wonderful
, a combination of flowers and lemon, plus another, dizzying aroma underneath it all.
Her
scent.
As she bent over the table, just a little, Nathan suddenly noticed her body. She was tall, though not as tall as him, with a generous bosom, a little waist, and ample hips. Her ass alone was incredible, and Nathan had to force himself not to reach out and squeeze it — or, worse, to press her against the table, lift her skirt, and just take her right there in front of everyone.
Deep inside, his bear roared and he had to force it down.
She stood up again and gave him a withering glare, then snatched the rest of the tart from his hand, brushing her fingers against his for half a second.
Nathan felt like a bolt of electricity had gone through him.
“This is for
after
the ceremony,” she said, as though she were scolding a child.
Then she turned and walked back into the kitchen.
“Sorry,” Nathan called to the now-closed door. It was all he could think to say.
He almost felt as if he’d had the air knocked from him, but she hadn’t
done
anything but look annoyed and take away his treat. It was just
her
, the way she smelled, dear God, the way she
looked
. Nathan stood rooted to that spot for a few more moments, trying to process what had just happened.
I saw a goddess
, he thought.
Then he thought,
Is this how people feel when they meet their mates?
That gave him the kick he needed to move again.
Of course she wasn’t his mate. He didn’t
have
a mate, and he never would. That was ludicrous.
She was just some really hot lady who smelled really good was all.
It’s been over a week
, Nathan thought, finally turning around and heading into the main part of the room.
I’ll head down to Seward tonight and get some cruise ship tail. That should fix me right up
.
Even as he smiled at the thought, there was a tiny itch of doubt, deep down inside.
