Authors: Eve Langlais
Tags: #paranormal, #romance, #second, #chance, #military, #soldier, #wounded, #hero, #polar, #bear, #shapeshifter, #series, #humor
Brody, without a care, and way too much trust, leaned against the bar, his back turned, as he waited for their drinks.
I could slip out of here and be gone before he noticed.
Escape beckoned. A return to his solitude waited only a few feet away. But that would mean leaving Vicky behind. Alone. A magnet for trouble.
Brody wouldn’t ditch her. He’s got too much honor for that.
But would he protect her with his life? Would Brody get to the bottom of Vicky’s troubles and take care of it or hand her over to human authorities and let them deal with it?
Drumming his fingers on the table, Gene sighed. He also didn’t move his ass. When it came to Vicky, he lost all common sense.
I’ve become an idiot
, one who’d probably end up getting killed, but unless he was overseeing her safety himself, Gene didn’t trust anyone else to handle it right.
And I don’t know if I would forgive myself, or others, if she came to harm because I prefer stewing in solitary misery.
Ignoring the interested stares of the few women populating the place, Brody returned holding two beers and slid into the mismatched wooden chair across from Gene.
Taking a sip, Gene watched his old friend through hooded eyes, waiting for him to speak.
Brody didn’t hesitate. “I’m surprised you didn’t bolt.”
“I thought of it.”
“But?”
Gene shrugged. “But decided I’d prefer to irritate you by sticking around.”
“I feel so special. However, I have a feeling it has more to do with the lady upstairs than an urge to rekindle a friendship with me.”
“I don’t know what you’re implying. There’s nothing between us.”
“If you say so. I gotta know, though, after hearing your story, how the hell does she not know your secret?”
“I wasn’t kidding when I said she faints. A lot. Although she is getting better. When I first met her, she face planted if you so much as said ‘boo’.”
“Still… I mean, how many times is she going to meet a scarred polar bear followed by a naked you before she puts two and two together?”
“Denial is as powerful as a scientific mind.” Gene hoped Vicky never found out he and the bear were the same. He didn’t fear her spilling his secret. In that he trusted her. However, he would hate for the fear to re-enter her expression when she looked at him. To associate the big scary bear with the man.
But she loves bears.
There was a difference between loving an animal and knowing a man turned into an animal. Humanity often feared that which they could not understand. Those that feared too much and threatened to tell? Unfortunately, shifter justice showed them no quarter.
Vicky’s response would only matter if she were to discern the truth.
As if the truth has stopped her so far.
Tell her a crazed killer wanted him dead and she was more concerned he get help, and from the last place he expected, Kodiak Point.
“So what makes you think Reid will go along with the plan you laid forth upstairs? You might be his clan beta, but as alpha, the decision is ultimately up to him. How do I know you’re not trying to march me voluntarily into a trap?”
“Give me a little credit. I wouldn’t make such a big move if I didn’t think he’d roll with it. Reid’s cool with the plan.”
“And you know this how?”
“Because I texted him while at the bar.”
“Can’t have been a long conversation,” Gene replied dryly, “seeing as how the guy practically served you right away.”
“Didn’t need to say much. See for yourself.” Brody extended his cell phone, and Gene perused the lit screen, which showed the conversation bubbles for Papa Bear—
don’t snicker aloud
—and Big Bad Wolf. Brody employed interesting contact names.
Fnd g. Bk tmrw w/ hm. No kill. Cl mt.
Which for the rest of the world who couldn’t follow Brody’s severely curtailed texting stood for “Found Gene and will be back tomorrow with him and a human who doesn’t know. Don’t kill him. Call a clan meeting.”
Reid’s superbly worded alpha leader reply?
K.
It brought home just how much trust some of the guys had in each other. For Reid to accept Brody’s assessment, to place such value on it, reminded Gene of a time when he’d felt the same way.
How could I have changed so much as to want to hurt the ones I once loved like brothers?
Perhaps he should have gone to more than one session with the shrink after he’d returned to the real world after spending so much time in captivity. The shrink tried to tell him his anger wasn’t with the guys but an expression of his frustration. Gene didn’t like that reply and never went back. Could have partially had to do with the fact he’d held the little man by his ankles out of his window, shook him, growled, and told the guy to get some better answers before his next session. Despite their minor difference of opinion, he had decided to give the headshrink a second chance, except he was never allowed back on account of the restraining order.
He ditched therapy as a solution.
However, now he had to wonder if he should have stayed the course and maybe worked through some of the angry knots currently unraveling in his mind.
He wondered how much of his anger was merited and how much was a result of the mind fucking by the one who’d saved him? The sly bastard who’d whispered during more than one sibilant conversation that his friends had abandoned him. His friends didn’t give a shit. His friends were never his friends.
Fucking brainwashed.
And not really recognizing it until now.
Discovering you might be wrong? That needed another beer. And another. Which helped loosen the tongue, and while they skirted certain issues, he and Brody spent a pleasant few hours reminding themselves of the better times. The time when they tranquilized Boris’ moose ass and then decorated his rack with Christmas bulbs and tinsel. Or the time they’d greased their rhino sergeant’s baton so that when he went to rap it against something while yelling they were “lazy fucking princesses”, it slipped his grip, spun in the air, and bonked him in the snout. So worth the hundred push-ups.
While a certain aura of tension and wariness remained, along with watchfulness every time the door to the bar opened, the fact he was actually sitting down and spending time with someone, and enjoying it, blew Gene away.
A man used to his solitude, he’d forgotten the simple enjoyment of just shooting the shit with another person.
Just like he was discovering the pleasure in having a female companion by his side.
A little drunk, not a lot because his big bear ass could quickly metabolize copious amounts of alcohol, he stated, “This is fucked up.”
“What is?”
“Us. Here. Hanging.” Not dragging the corpse of the other somewhere for disposal.
Leaning back on two of the chairs legs, which was really brave considering their ramshackle state, Brody replied, “No more fucked up than you shacking up with an oblivious human.”
“We’re not shacking up.”
“But there is something between you,” insisted Brody.
Yes there was, a tingling awareness, a definite chemistry, a stupid bond he couldn’t seem to sever. But he’d not thought it that obvious, which bothered Gene. If Brody could see it, would his enemy spot it too?
And use it against me.
Gene tried to deny it. “She’s a hot little thing, but nothing can come of it. Not with the danger I have following me around. As soon as I can, I’m going to take off again.”
“Ditching her might not lessen the danger.”
“Keeping her is out of the question. We’re too different.”
“Maybe that’s what you need,” Brody replied before taking a sip of his beer. “Some relationships work best when there’s lots in common, like Boris and Jan. Those two are the funniest gun freaks you ever met. I swear, between the pair, I don’t know who owns more weapons.
“Jan. She inherited most of her dad’s collection when Jean Francois began traveling.”
Brody snorted. “Oh man. I am so totally going to use that against the moose when I see him. His woman is the one who wears the guns in his relationship.”
“It will drive him ballistic.”
They both grinned at that thought.
Brody spun the brown bottle on the table, watching it wobble. “Then there’s opposites, like Tammy and Reid. She was a human insurance adjuster and he the big bad bear in charge of our clan.”
“You mean she was a human. She’s now almost as big of a bear as him.” Kind of his fault since, as part of his vendetta, Gene had changed her into a polar bear. Not something done often by his kind because of the level of danger involved. It was also very painful. His Pima would never survive the change from human to shifter. But then again, he didn’t care if Vicky was human. He liked her just fine the way she was. Too much actually.
“The point is, different backgrounds and interests don’t mean shit. When it comes to love—”
“Whoa!” Gene held up a hand. “Hold on a second there, Mr. Fucking-in-touch-with-his-feelings Freak. Who said anything about love?”
“Are you going to lie to me and say you don’t feel anything for the girl? That the reason you’re doing this is out of the kindness of your fucking heart?”
“Why not? I’m capable of being nice.” At least for one person.
“Nice, yes, but stick around longer than needed and for a human?” The noise that came out of Brody could only be called scoffing. “The ghost I knew would emerge from the shadows only long enough to maybe kill a few things and avert danger. Then he’d ditch her ass and move on.”
“Who says that’s not what I’m planning?” He’d get Vicky to Kodiak Point, ensure the clan surrounded her with protection, and then he’d take off. A great plan.
“If you say so.” Brody yawned. “I don’t know about you, Ghost, but I think it’s time we hit the hay. So sleeping accommodations. How about you take first watch, and I’ll sleep with the girl in the room.”
So fast did Gene traverse the table that his hand latched around Brody’s neck before the chair he’d sat in finished thumping the floor. “Stay away from her,” he growled.
Brody arched a brow. “Possessive much?”
Apparently more than he suspected. Or was it just the alcohol talking? Gene’s control over his bear was a little tenuous at the moment it seemed. Its jealousy over the human it considered his forcing its way past his manly control. “You’re not sleeping with her.”
“I think that’s patently clear. I take it I’m doing my sleeping and watching in the hall?” Brody inquired.
Gene could only grunt as he hefted himself off Brody and got to his feet. Without a word, he headed up the stairs, still slightly drunk, his mind definitely churning with a multitude of revelations and suddenly lustier than a bear in fucking spring.
Vicky was up there. In a room. In his bed. Not wearing several layers of clothes.
The sane part of him, which screamed he should head for a polar swim, understood that temptation awaited. The wilder side, the part of him controlled more by impulse and instinct, kept his feet moving. Had him staring down at her sweet features, evident by the soft glow of the sign lighting the outside.
He knew if he wakened her with a kiss, she’d return it. Knew if he decided to seduce her, here and now, she’d welcome it. Welcome him.
What does she see in me?
Something obviously that he’d not spotted. She kept calling him hero, and as much as he—and yes Brody—might scoff, he enjoyed it. Pride warmed him knowing she felt as if she could count on him.
But would she sing the same tune if she truly saw him for what he was?
She knows I’m a killer.
A human killer. Could a delicate natured girl like her, though, handle the beast?
His cock twitched as her lips parted and she sighed in her sleep.
I didn’t mean handle that kind of beast,
he thought with a smile.
Another smile. Because of her.
Stripping to just his long johns—the sexiest nightwear around—he slid onto the mattress alongside her, playing with fire, but he didn’t care. Leaning on an arm, his head cradled in his palm, he stared at her features. Dark lashes, an upturned nose, luscious pink lips, mussed hair that feathered her cheek. He stroked the stray strands from her soft skin. She let out a sigh, and her lips parted.
Did she know he touched her?
He let his fingers glide lightly from her cheek to her jaw, tracing its line down the column of her neck. The blanket, tucked around her shoulders, impeded further progress, so he tugged it, pulling it down to see she wore those damnable polar bear jammies again. The one-piece pair with the zipper down the front.
Gripping the tag, he slowly tugged, the whirring sound loud in the stillness of the room, a warning that he should stop.
What are you doing?
She slept, and here he was taking advantage of her vulnerability. He stopped, and was about to zip her up, when she rolled to her side and murmured in her sleep. One word. Just one. A word that shredded rationality.
“Gene.”
His name.
She’s saying my name.
Despite her slumber, she knew it was him or dreamed of him. Something within him tilted. Or maybe the whole world did. All he knew was something huge changed in that moment, or perhaps it already had and he’d just noticed it.
I care for her.
Not just because she needed his help. Or because it was the right thing to do. He cared for her because she meant something to him.
The revelation stunned. His hand cupped her cheek, the thumb gently stroking the skin.
Lashes fluttered as her eyes opened to half-mast, soft and sleep-filled. Her mouth curved into a welcoming smile. “Gene.”
Again, she said his name, this time cognizant. And demanding. Or so the arms she raised to snake around his neck indicated as she pulled him down to place a kiss upon his lips. A soft kiss, but one that aroused every one of his senses.
He took over the embrace, deepening it, demanding more. She eagerly gave in, her mouth granting him access so their tongues could twine and he could suck. He gathered her close to him with an arm around her back, pressing her against his chest, needing to feel her close to him.
But fabric dared get in the way of what he truly wanted. Skin-to-skin contact.