by T. S. Joyce
“You swing an ax like a six-year-old girl.”
Grim hated everything.
“Hey, boss?” Rhett said from behind him.
Grim nearly jumped out of his skin and stopped the ax mid swing. “Holy fuck, Rhett! Don’t sneak up on a man like that.”
“Uh, I tromped over here from my trailer like a limping rhinoceros. You weren’t paying attention. Probably thanks to you talking to yourself. Again.”
“It’s the dumb rock you gave me,” Grim muttered, resting the blade of the ax in the snow and leaning against the handle.
Rhett gave a mushy smile that made Grim want to barf. “I kept mine, too,” he said, fishing his own rock out of his pocket. “So I can remember the day we became friends.”
Old Grim would’ve reminded Rhett that he hated him and he didn’t have friends, but he really had listened to Ash when she said he needed to let people in.
Rhett popped up the collar of his jacket and zipped it up. “It’s cold as fuck out here this morning,” he said, taking a seat on the wood pile against Grim’s trailer. “Gonna be brutal working today.”
“Yeah, well, you aren’t getting out of it,” Grim grumbled, picking up another log to split.
“I don’t want to get out of it.”
Grim waited for a punchline, but Rhett just stared at him.
“You know,” Rhett said, “the first day we hit our numbers…I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of myself.”
“What? You’re a famous musician. You don’t need this place or some number on a piece of paper. You’re already successful.”
“Not true. I didn’t see myself as successful until I met Juno. Until I learned what made her happy, until I could work all the machines here, until I could go a whole day without fighting with you or Kamp. My music career? That’s temporary. It only takes one mistake, and I’m out of favor in the public eye. And we both know I’ll fuck it up sooner or later,” he said with a grin.
Grim nodded because, well, he really fuckin’ agreed with that.
“But this place is bigger. You know?”
As far away from Rhett as possible, Grim sat on the woodpile and spun the ax blade slowly in the snow, making a little circle. “I don’t really know how to do this.”
“Do what?” Kamp asked, striding around the side of the trailer with a trio of coffee cups in his hands.
Grim muttered a “thank you” as he took one Kamp offered him. No one had ever brought him coffee before.
“I mean, I don’t know how to do any of this.”
“Well, there ain’t no instructions, but that’s the beauty of this Crew,” Kamp said, taking a seat beside Rhett. He sipped his coffee and made an “aaaaah” sound, then said, “Every Crew is different. We all accepted a long time ago that we were all gonna fuck this up. And we have. But we’re still here, and the girls are happy.”
“That matters a lot to me,” Grim rumbled.
“It happens when you find the one,” Rhett said. “It changes your perspective. You go along living your life selfishly for years and you get in the habit of caring about your comfort, then all of a sudden, you have someone who smiles when you make them comfortable. Someone you love. And that becomes more important than yourself.”
“Rebble just called you a pussy,” Grim said with a snort.
“Really?” Rhett asked.
“No, not really.” Grim’s sigh tapered into a growl. “He only insults me.”
Kamp let off a bellowing laugh. Just one. And then Rhett snickered. And as much as Grim tried not to laugh, too, he couldn’t help himself. The three biggest fuck-ups were sitting on a woodpile at five am, cracking up, freezing their balls off, and talking about life like they knew what the hell they were doing. And he was king of the fuck-ups!
Wiping the corners of his eyes, Grim cleared his throat and said, “How about we hit the quota today? Hit it, and I’ll buy you all a beer in town after. We’ll bring the girls and get a break from the mountain. Give them a good night.”
Kamp and Rhett were just sitting there staring at him. Just…staring. Unblinking. The only movement from them was the steam coming from their coffee cups.
“What?” he growled.
“Did you…?” Rhett whispered. “Did you just invite us to hang out?”
Grim snarled and stood, leaned the ax against the woodpile, and stomped past them. For good measure, he shoved Rhett hard enough in the shoulder that he spilled half of his coffee and then Grim demanded, “Don’t be weird about it.”
He walked toward his jobsite with a smile on his face.
Not because he cared—
“Liar,” Rebble said.
—but because he’d made Rhett spill his coffee.
“You love them, you soft little weenie-boy,” Rebble said in a smug voice.
Kill them, the Reaper whispered as usual.
“No,” Grim said, but he couldn’t for the life of him tell if he was talking to the Reaper or arguing with the rock in his pocket.
No matter, though. Grim was in a good mood and motivated. He was going to work his ass off today, come home to Ash tonight, and then take her out, because Rhett was right about one thing. Ash’s comfort was more important than his. He breathed for her smiles.
She’d said the best Christmas present he could give the Crew was himself. Well, he thought that was insane because he mostly belittled them and tried to murder them, but okay. He would put in the effort and have a night out with the Crew.
And maybe that would make Ash smile a lot.
Soft little weenie-boy? Whatever.
Not even imaginary insults could get to him today.
Grim was a monster on a mission, and that mission was to fuck up a little less today. Sure as shit, he didn’t know what he was doing as an Alpha, but his Crew seemed to be fine with a D-minus leader, so there really wasn’t that much pressure. Their expectations were non-existent, thanks to him setting the bar exceptionally low.
Grim shrugged and hunkered down into his jacket as he stepped onto the trail that led to the forest he’d been clearing.
Fighting his Alpha rank here hadn’t done him any good, so maybe he would try something new now—like failing less.
Why the hell not?
Chapter Five
“Oh, good, now hell has frozen over, too,” Remi murmured.
Maybe it really had. Ash stared dumbfounded at the trio of giants who strode through the snow. Grim was up front but only by a few paces, and Kamp and Rhett were at his flanks. They looked exhausted, half-frozen, but all three of them were matching. With smiles.
“Whaaaat the heeeeell?” Juno whispered from where she was draping holiday lights around the porch railing of 1010. “Y’all are seeing this, too…right?”
“Does it look like friendship?” Ash asked.
“Yep,” Remi said from where she sat crisscross applesauce on the bright red plastic lawn chair Ash had dragged onto the porch.
“Then yes. I see it, too.”
“Maybe they’re playing a prank,” Juno theorized.
When Ash looked at her friends’ faces, they were matching, too, with suspicious, squinty eyes. Ash believed in the boys, though. Sure, they liked to try to kill each other, but they could also be friends.
She and the girls had been setting up the perfect holiday picture right in front of 1010, complete with cases of Pen15 Juice on the porch and bright holiday lights all over the singlewide trailer, and a trio of giant candy canes propped up against the porch. They’d tried really hard to track down a baby donkey to put some reindeer antlers on, but had failed. None of the neighbors would even let them borrow a tame-ish cow. Two had told them they knew Rogue Pride was full of shifters and didn’t want their livestock eaten. Juno had hung up dramatically both times and then said she was going to go eat a cow from each of their herds on principle, but she was also on her period and a little grumpy. She wouldn’t really do that. Probably.
It was okay, though, because Kamp’s son Raider got to visit a couple weekend
s before the war with the Sons of Beasts, and he and Remi had knitted a little Santa suit for their pet naked mole rat named Waffles with Peanut Butter. Waffles for short. Remi currently had the hideous little critter bundled in her jacket to keep it warm for the picture, but the thing had bitten her six times already. Ash was good at counting. That bald little rodent was very angry inside. But Ash liked her. Waffles reminded her of Grim, and she thought Grim was very cute, even when he was bitey and grumpy. They should’ve named her Reaper Junior instead of Waffles with Peanut Butter. Just thinking about waffles made her tummy growl.
Grim was so hot in his work jeans, scuffed-up boots, wool-lined jacket undone to expose a red and black flannel underneath, and gray beanie covering his mohawk. He was tall and strong as an oak, long powerful strides, arms busting against the seams of his jacket, ax in his hand. This was like one of those movie scenes where a big mountain man was coming in from a blizzard like the cold weather didn’t affect him at all. Or like when a hero walked away from an explosion without flinching. All three of the boys looked so cool. Until Kamp turned and kicked Rhett’s ankle mid-stride, and he tripped and fell face-first in the snow. He cussed a lot so Kamp kicked more snow on him and cackled like a hyena. And then Grim told them they were both worthless. But before that, they looked very cool.
The second Grim looked up and caught her eye, Ash took off. She didn’t want to not be touching him for another second, so she bolted through the snow and leapt through the air as he held his arms out. She wasn’t one of those skinny girls, but she had faith in her man to catch her. And catch her, he did. His chuckle was deep, growly, and sexy, and he nipped her neck immediately as she hugged him up tight. Goodness, she loved this man. He smelled so good, so familiar, like home.
“I missed you all day,” she announced much too loudly against his ear. Grim hunched his shoulders, so she said, “Sorry, I’m just excited to see you.”
He eased her back onto her own feet in the snow and kissed her so sweetly she knew what color his eyes were not. The Reaper must’ve been sleeping because he didn’t allow gentleness. His eyes would be the brown of his human side or the green of the good lion.
“I love you I love you I love you,” she murmured, rubbing her nose against his.
“Sweet mate,” he rumbled, hugging her tighter.
“Get a room,” Rhett groused as he stomped by.
“How was your day?” she asked Grim, ignoring grumpy Rhett.
He heaved a frozen sigh and said, “Better now. It was long and so fuckin’ cold up there, but the boys did good and we hit our numbers.” He grinned but ducked his face from her fast.
“You’re proud,” she sang softly.
“Hell, yeah, I am. We rarely have good work days. I didn’t fight anyone today. And no one made excuses to quit early.” He cleared his throat and his eyes grew serious. “I’ll have to give the Reaper the body tonight, though.”
“I’ll Change with you.” She cupped his cheeks and grinned at him. “Grim, I’m proud of you.”
He snorted. “Woman, you say that if I lower the toilet lid after a piss.”
Ash shrugged. It was true. He’d been a bachelor for so long that she fell into the toilet in the middle of the night once because the lid was up. Now he always tried to lower it. Heck yeah, she was so proud!
“I have a question,” he murmured. “A couple questions, actually.”
Oh, that sounded very serious. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“One, do you want to go on a date with me tonight? And the Crew. A Crew date. I owe the boys a beer.”
“Gasp!” she exclaimed. “Yes! What are we going to do?”
“Well, we have to drive a shipment of logs down to the lumberyard, but I figured we could all pile in and go to that tourist bar right off that little mountain road that leads into town.”
“Meaties on the River?”
He laughed and gave one nod. “Yup, that’s the one.”
“Yes! I want to date there. Crew date. I mean, I want to do that. I mean, let’s do a date there.”
“Good. And two,” he said, his eyes dancing. He was the most handsome man in the whole world when he smiled like this. “Do you want to register to be my mate?”
Ash froze. Just…her body stopped working or feeling or responding. Even her lips. In her head, she was thinking, Yes, Grim, I would love to register to be your mate for all the public to see. But all that came out when she forced the words was, “Waffles is a bad rat.”
“Agreed,” Grim said, dropping his chin to his chest. “Did you hear what I just said?”
Ash tried and failed to inhale a deep breath. Did the oxygen disappear from the mountains? Breathing was like sucking on a vacuum right now, and her lungs were screaming. Finally, she wheezed out, “Yes!”
Her eyes were burning. Or freezing. She got embarrassed because she didn’t like people seeing her all weak and crying, so she buried her face against the impossibly sturdy indention between his pecs.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re shivering.” He wrapped her into his open jacket. “Are you cold?”
“Nope, I shake when I cry. Don’t think that’s lame and leave me.”
“Woman, I just asked you to register to me and the Crew. As my mate. I’m not going anywhere.”
“But you never bit me, so I was confused. Sometimes when you’re gone all day, I think maybe you don’t like me enough to bite me, and then I get embarrassed that I bit you first because I think it’s supposed to be the boy who does it first, but my bear just did it and I thought I messed everything up and—”
“Aaaash,” he crooned, gripping her by the arms and easing her crying, tear-soaked, sobby, make-up smeary face away from his chest to look at her. Great, there was mascara all over his shirt.
He ran his thumbs under her eyes and cupped her cheeks. “I’m scared to bite you because of the Reaper, Ash. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to when I claim you. I’ve been waiting for him to settle down. You think I don’t want to give you a claiming mark? I stay awake every night you spend in my bed thinking about it. I want you bound to me. I just don’t think the Reaper can be trusted with something like that. Not yet. This paperwork would announce to the whole world that you are mate of Grim and member of the Rogue Pride Crew, though. The whole Crew is registering—”
“Not me,” Rhett called from where he was scraping his boot off on the bottom stair of 1010. “I hate you all today.”
“He’s just hungry,” Juno called out. “Carry on. None of us are listening!”
Ash could barely make out Kamp whisper-scream, “Rhett, shut the fuck up.”
Grim glared at the Crew, all milling about the front of the trailer, trying to look busy but not really doing anything. Remi was just plugging and unplugging the Christmas lights and Juno was inspecting the snow on the porch railing.
Grim muttered a very bad cuss word under his breath and pulled Ash by the hand back toward the woods, farther away from the Crew. “So I guess what I’m asking is for you to be mine, but to be patient because our mating story will just have to be a little different than other pairs.”
“Like no claiming mark,” she said.
Grim’s smile was tiny and sad. “I wish I could do just one thing normal, Ash. I want to give you the world, and you deserve for our pairing to be exactly the way you want it.”
“No.” Ash lifted her chin, planted her feet, and crossed her arms. “I don’t want that. I don’t want the same story as everyone else because you are different and I am different, and together we are different. And that’s okay. Yes, I want to ride in the log truck and help you drop off the lumber and eat and drink at Meaties on the River with you and my other four best friends—”
“Don’t forget to include Waffles!” Rhett called.
“My five best friends,” Ash corrected. “And, yes, I want to register to our Crew and to you. And then you’ll be mine and I’ll be yours and we will officially bang for the rest of our lives. Whatever we dec
ide to do with claiming is our business and is perfect for us. You aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re protecting me.”
“You really see me, don’t you?” he asked softly.
“Yes, and I love everything you are. Reaper and all. I’m an accepter, remember?”
“You’re perfect, Ash.”
“Oh no, not me. I’m a mess.”
“Not to me. Your mess is beautiful. To me, you’re the perfect match.”
She giggled. “I’m not a match, silly. I’m a girl.”
He belted out a laugh and swatted her ass, guided her back toward the Crew. “I didn’t mean a match that you light. I meant someone who fits me.”
“Oh. Yes, I fit you very good.” She waggled her eyebrows so he would know she meant it in a perverted way but every time she did, her nose flared uncontrollably, so she probably looked weird. But he didn’t look concerned about her facial health. He just chuckled a lot. And that was a victory, because when she’d first met Grim, he had very, very little laughter in his life. And now that happy sound came easy. A big part of her hoped she had something to do with that.
A good man deserved laughs. Grim had The Bad in him, sure, but The Good was way bigger.
Chapter Six
This picture was going really wrong.
Click.
The camera was on a tripod and the timer was set to take pictures at intervals.
Grim growled low in his throat, and Ash could feel the sickening waves of dominance buzzing off him.
“Maybe don’t stand that close to Grim,” she whispered to Rhett, shoving him back a couple feet from where he hovered on Grim’s left-hand side.
“I’m his best friend. I should be the one standing next to him.”
“How are you his best friend?” Kamp asked around the candy cane hanging from his lips. He puffed it like a cigar and then spoke as he blew smoke into the air, “You have a giant black eye from where he punched your face yesterday, and he deemed you last in the Crew.”
Click, went the camera.
“Sixth in the Crew. Sixth!” Rhett said before he took another swig of homemade beer.