Woodsman Werebear

by T. S. Joyce

  She giggled before she could stop herself and swatted his finger away from in front of her face. “I bet it fixes up real nice during the holidays.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he murmured as he turned his attention toward the road again.

  Riley took a second look at Drew’s house. She’d never been in a real trailer park before and had always wondered what the little modular homes were like on the inside. Her apartment wasn’t much bigger than the square footage he was likely dealing with, but her home was shaped like a square, while Drew’s was long and rectangular. How did living spaces work in a shape like that?

  “What do you do for fun out here?” she wondered aloud. “I mean, the closest bar is what, a couple of hours away in Saratoga?”

  “I go there on the weekends to watch some of my friends play at Sammy’s, but yeah, it’s a long drive. Living way out here, you have to get creative with ways to keep yourself entertained.”

  “So you drink a lot of beer.”

  Drew snorted and nodded. “Right you are. Beer and hard liquor when the nights get extra long. It’s not lonely up here, though. Not like you’re probably thinking.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  “Woman, every emotion you have is written all over your face.”

  Troubled, she frowned and turned back to the window, hiding her face from him. “No, it’s not.”

  “It is so, and that ain’t a bad thing. I bet you’re too honest for your own good.”

  “If my face gives me away, I’d have to be, right?”

  “What about you?” he asked, trapping her momentarily with those icy blue eyes of his. “What do you do for fun in the city?”

  “Probably not what you’d think.”

  “Try me. Or do you want me to guess? You hop on and off a subway to meet friends at ritzy bars where the drinks are ten bucks a pop for a watered-down version of a panty-dropper that’ll take ten of them to get you a buzz. You ice skate in man-made rinks and walk your dog through perfectly manicured parks where the grass is all sod and no weeds dare to grow. And when your pup poops, you pick it up with some of those plastic dog-shit gloves and smile at the other passersby doing the same thing. You go on company hikes and look down at all the ant-sized people from your high-rise apartment.”

  “Who’s judgy now?”

  “Who is joking now? I can’t see you as the high-rise type, and you smell like cats, not dogs.”

  “I smell?” She sniffed her shoulder but didn’t smell anything off-putting. Just her natural scent mixed with a hint of deodorant, berry shampoo, and the vanilla body wash she was currently obsessed with.

  “You smell like a fucking delicious fruit-tree farm, but underneath it all is a little furry pussy.”

  Riley narrowed her eyes at him. Drew was a crap-stirrer, just trying to get a rise out of her by using shocking words. “If you must know, I smell like cats because I volunteer for a no-kill, cat-only shelter in my spare time instead of looking down from my second story, modest apartment where people don’t look like ants, but like normal-sized people. And I like to re-upholster furniture. I rehab old pieces I find at flea markets and sell them online. That’s how I made my living before…well…before.”

  “Hmm,” he said with a slow smile that said he was enjoying peeling away her layers.

  This, however, was a dangerous game she couldn’t afford to get caught up in. The more Drew found out about her, the more she feared Seamus would somehow find her. All it took was for Drew to say something to these other trailer park Ashe people, who could then talk about her in town and throw down big freaking come-find-me bread crumbs for Seamus to follow.

  Riley leaned forward and turned the radio knob until an old country song blared through the staticky speakers.

  Drew tossed a questioning glance her way, but didn’t push her anymore. Instead, he drove in silence up a winding mountain road and through what looked like a logger worksite with people busily working on machinery and cutting thick cords of metal. Drew waved to a tall, stoic man with eyes so blue, it almost hurt to look at him.

  “That’s Tagan,” Drew said. “He’s my boss. He probably passed right by you when you were hitchhiking earlier.”

  “I thought Damon was your boss,” she called over the blaring music.

  “Damon’s the big boss. Tagan runs this crew.”

  Drew didn’t slow down, but instead took a switchback that led to another gravel road. A few more miles, and he stopped in front of the strangest looking house she’d ever laid eyes on. It was several stories high, if the walls of windows were anything to go by, but it seemed to be built into the side of the mountain. A black Mercedes sat idle in a circle drive, and Drew pulled up right beside the car onto the perfectly manicured lawn.

  “I don’t think this is a parking space,” she muttered.

  “And yet I don’t feel guilty,” Drew said mysteriously. A flash of anger took his eyes before he cooled his expression and replaced it with a mask of indifference. “Now, every time you look out those windows and see my tire tracks, you can think of me.”

  “Ah, so this is where we part ways. Is this Damon’s house?”

  “Yep. I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable here. He’ll take good care of you.” The last part was edged with something dark she didn’t understand. Bitterness?

  “Okay.” Riley hesitated, leaning closer to Drew to look up at the mansion out his window. Damon Daye didn’t expect her for another week, and suddenly, her nerves kicked in. What if he was angry or wasn’t even home? She imagined sleeping the night away curled up on his vast, yet cold-looking front porch. Easing back slightly, she stuck out her hand for a shake. “I guess I’ll probably never see you again, so…goodbye Drew Hudson.”

  A strand of blond hair fell forward into his face, and she resisted the urge to touch it. His eyes seemed to have lightened, but perhaps it was a trick of the saturated afternoon light that reflected off the hood of his truck. His gaze dipped to her lips, and her heart stuttered in her chest. Breath frozen in her lungs, she stilled under his hungry gaze.

  He brushed his fingertips across her cheek, and then slowly he cupped the back of her neck. Leaning forward, he smiled just before he pressed his lips to hers. Her eyes rolled closed as she leaned into his touch. His lips softened, moved with hers, plucked at her lips until his tongue brushed the sensitive flesh just inside her mouth. And when she melted against him, his reaction was nothing as she had hoped.

  Drew pulled back.

  Searching her eyes, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone once more. Riley hadn’t had a single drink since she’d signed the surrogate contract, but she remembered this feeling. This was two quick shots of cheap tequila. And now her blood was heating to boiling and her panties were slowly soaking. She hadn’t touched herself in months, but suddenly, her body was aching to be closer to Drew. To be caressed by him. A few gentle touches, and Drew made her feel adored in a way Seamus hadn’t managed in all the time they’d been together.

  “Thanks for today,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. “It’s been a while since I smiled. It felt good.”

  Riley couldn’t find any words that fit her stumbling thoughts, so she simply said, “You’re welcome.”

  “Have a nice life, Riley Miller.”

  Oh, this really was the goodbye now. Okay. “Yep,” she said lamely. Scrunching up her nose, she pushed open the door and slid out, covering her belly with the duffle bag still. “You too. Have a nice life.” She cleared her throat as he pulled her door closed from the inside. “In the trailer park, I mean. And good luck with, you know, lumberjacking.”

  God, she was so mixed up. Hormones raging as she took in his sad smile, she gave an awkward wave and marched toward the door, determined not to look back and make more of an ass of herself.

  As the sound of his roaring engine began to fade, she turned and took one last peek at the man who’d gotten her here safely and made her forget about her problems for a little w
hile. He’d thanked her for making him smile. She should’ve thanked him back since he’d done the same for her.

  All she knew was that with a belly swollen with child and a mountain of trouble back home, she’d stumbled across a man who stirred up emotions she’d never felt before.

  And now, it suddenly seemed tragic that she’d never see him again.

  Chapter Five

  Drew watched Riley grow smaller and smaller from the rearview and winced as the animal inside threatened to shred him. Dammit, he couldn’t pull over and Change here. He was too close to her. Bear would charge right back there and scare the piss out of her.

  Drew gritted his teeth, fighting for control. She was in Damon’s care now. He’d show her Castle Daye and provide her with whatever she needed. She’d never want for anything. Sure, Damon was cold and was only just now coming around to opening up again after several centuries of hardening his heart, but he had money and connections. He owned businesses and had a future that stretched on for eternity.

  And where was Drew going? To hell, and fast. The Ashe Crew wasn’t out in the public—not yet—and Riley was utterly human. She was basically organs wrapped in rice paper. These woods and this uncertain life were no place for a woman like her. Now Brooke, Skyler, Danielle, Everly, and Diem? They were all bear and falcon shifters except for Danielle, and even she was a nature nerd adept at keeping herself alive in rough terrain. Women could make it just the same as men out here, but for as tough as she talked, Riley was a wounded bird. It was the moments in between her popping off with her bravado that he’d seen the vulnerability and fear in her eyes. Drew shook his head and muttered a curse.

  The women of the Ashe Crew belonged to these woods, just as surely as the lumberjacks they’d mated to. Riley, however, belonged tucked away in Damon’s castle. Safe from the danger that surrounded bear-shifter life and safe from the monster in his middle that would surely ruin her if given half the chance.

  Maybe if he’d met her before Mom had died…

  Loss bowed him forward over the steering wheel. He would’ve stood a chance at making a woman like Riley happy before, but now he was a shell with no substance.

  What could he offer her?

  Not a damned thing of importance.

  By the time he pulled up to the landing where he and the others would be working the lumber in a few days’ time, his mood had plummeted. Back to reality where his bear was a holy terror clawing at his insides and where Tagan had just banned him from the thing that kept him steady—bare-knuckle, no-rules boxing. Friggin’ A.

  “Who was that in your truck?” Tagan asked the second he slid out from behind the wheel.

  “None of your fuckin’ business.” Every word was a snarl, but Tagan was crossing into dangerous territory right now. Drew was already pissed, and the alpha knew better than to press his members when they were riled up like this. Did he not smell the damned bear in him? Even to his own nose, Drew reeked of fur and anger. “I’m going to help Bruiser set up the skyline.”

  “Drew,” Tagan snapped, his voice crackling with power.

  Drew turned slowly, allowing a snarl to curl his lip. “More orders, alpha?”

  Tagan’s face went burgundy. “Stand down, Drew.”

  Drew swallowed hard and grunted against the weight that pressed him toward the dirt beneath him. His knees buckled.

  “It’s been two months, and you’ve chosen not to deal with what’s happened. At the risk of my crew.” Tagan angled his chin and glared him down, his eyes lightening to a snowy color. “Get your shit together, Hudson.”

  Drew fell to his knees.

  “Tagan!” his mate, Brooke, yelled. “Stop it.”

  A long, feral growl rippled through Tagan’s throat, but one look at his mate, and his lips fell back over his teeth. She was a buck twenty of pissed-off blonde, their toddler Wyatt clinging to her hip.

  “Can you not see he’s hurting?”

  “It’s been two months—”

  “Two months nothing, Tagan,” she gritted out as she approached. “We don’t all deal at the same pace.”

  “He hasn’t dealt at all!”

  “No, no, no,” Wyatt said, scrunching up his little nose and shaking his chubby little finger at his alpha father. Right now, that was one of three words in the kid’s entire vocabulary. Denison had taught him how to say pecker and, naturally, he knew momma.

  Drew would’ve snickered if this was at all funny. Unfortunately, he was stuck in the mud with his neck exposed while his alpha had a spat with his lady.

  “You think cowing him is going to help him?” Brooke asked, arching one delicate golden brow.

  Drew cleared his throat. “Can I get up?”

  Tagan didn’t say anything, just threw him a dangerous look and marched off. The farther away he got, the less weight pressed against Drew’s shoulders until he was finally able to stand.

  “I’m sorry,” Brooke said low. “Tagan’s had a lot on his plate trying to figure out what to do about coming out to the public. The decision is torturing him, and you aren’t making things any easier. Drew, you’ve been a loose cannon for two months. Now, you know I love you. We all do, and we’re worried about you. You’ll come to dinner at our trailer tonight, and you and Tagan will work this out.”

  “I wouldn’t be good dinner company tonight—”

  “Didn’t say it was a request, Drew. Dinner is at eight after you are all done working.” Brooke turned and strode for a batch of trees where she’d set up her painting easel.

  Wyatt was all wide blue eyes and mussed dark hair when he pointed at Drew and said, “Pecker.”

  Fantastic.

  With a growl, Drew stomped off toward the giant pine Bruiser was stripping to hang the skyline from. He wanted to kick everything.

  After pulling work gloves from his back pocket, Drew gathered a pile of newly cut limbs and dragged them away. The last thing they needed was a snake den beneath their skyline. Bruiser was high above, strapped to the tree and dropping limbs every few seconds.

  Thank goodness for work. Drew could be mindless here. Hard labor, sweat, and the stretch of long unused muscles settled his animal. Not like Riley had been able to do with those wide eyes of hers and that wry quirk to her full lips, but still, it was something.

  And just like that, there she was again, taking up all the space in his head. His dick hardened and throbbed against the seam of his pants, and he tried to think of anything else to ease his boner. Like washing dishes. There. That was the least sexy thing ever. Unless he was washing dishes with Riley, standing behind her while she rinsed the suds off a dinner plate as he pressed against her back and pulled her earlobe between his teeth and shit. His pants were even tighter now.

  He reached for the bigger limbs and focused on moving as much as possible at once, and after a few minutes, that helped.

  Bruiser, donning spike boots, climbed down the skyline pole and nodded a wary greeting. “You gonna bite my head off today?”

  Oh, right. Yesterday Drew had been on a tear with anyone who talked to him. Come to think of it, today he hadn’t been much better. “I won’t unless you’re going to push therapy time on me.”

  “Man, you need some of that. Do you remember Changing last night?”

  “What?” Drew dropped the heavy limbs in his arms and stared at Bruiser in horror. “No, I didn’t.”

  Bruiser’s dark eyebrows lifted, and he nodded once. “Yeah, you did. You were roaring right outside the trailer park. Woke everyone up. Sleep walking now, are we?”

  Or sleep-Changing, and that was terrifying. His bear was not to be trusted right now.

  “Hey, is your father-in-law looking for a consort?”

  With a baffled look, Bruiser shook his head. “I don’t even know what that means. Like a fuck buddy?”

  “I guess. I mean, obviously he’s lonely, so it’s not that surprising he would bring a woman up to his mansion. It’s kind of weird that he chose a human, though—”

  “Wai
t, what are you talking about? Damon isn’t looking for a mate. What human?”

  “The human I just took to his house. She said she was expected.”

  Bruiser’s dark eyes went wide. “Was her name Riley?”

  “Yeeesss,” Drew drawled out slow.

  “Shit, I’ve got to go. Was Diem at Damon’s house?”

  “I don’t know. Isn’t she supposed to be working today?” Drew hesitated, then called out at Bruiser’s receding back, “I didn’t go inside.”

  The slamming of Bruiser’s door on his truck echoed down the mountain. The engine roared to life a split second later, and then Bruiser peeled out, tossing gravel and mud behind him until his tires caught traction.

  Huh. Bruiser knew Riley.

  Drew’s gaze followed Bruiser’s mud-covered pickup as it sped up the washed-out logging road.

  What had that little human done to catch the attention of a berserker bear and a death-bringer dragon?

  Chapter Six

  Riley’s sneakers squeaked against the huge, white marble tiles that spanned the grand hallway. If she didn’t know better, she’d say this place was a museum, not a house.

  A man who’d introduced himself as Mason walked slowly in front of her. Geez, he was huge. He wasn’t a tall man, but his shoulders looked as wide as the broad side of a barn. Was everyone around here lifting weights all day and eating loads of protein?

  Grand chandeliers lit their way toward a large set of wooden double doors. Mason smiled kindly at her and knocked.

  “Come in,” came the muffled reply.

  Mason pushed the door open and strode into the room, introducing her. “Mr. Daye, this is Riley Miller.”

  The man behind a sprawling mahogany desk looked up at her with surprise. When he stood, he was tall and lean with a runner’s build. His medium gray business suit had been pressed to perfection. His hair was dark as night, but at his temples, the slightest hint of silver was beginning to form. His face, however, made it impossible to guess his age. His smooth skin didn’t boast blemishes, or crow’s feet, or even smile lines.