by Becca Van
Pixie sat on the edge of the bed. “Our guys will never want to be separated from us. There is no such thing as divorce. In fact, they don’t like being away from us for more than a couple of hours.”
“Isn’t that a little…stifling?” Kenzie asked.
“No.” Emmy shook her head. “Not in the way you mean. Our guys are overprotective, but when they get too overbearing we stand up to them.”
“They don’t take us over or try to be dictatorial,” Dusty said. “Well, for the most part.”
“Our guys only give us orders when they think we’ll get hurt or are in danger,” Pixie explained. “The rest of the time they are loving.”
“And you have to admit they’re all pretty darned sexy.” Emmy grinned.
“So, to answer your unasked question,” Dusty said, “the reason you’re attracted to Jayson, Jordan, and Jenson is because you’re their mate.”
Kenzie shook her head and wheezed in a breath. “I can’t be their mate. I’m not a shifter.”
“Neither are we,” Pixie said.
Kenzie shook her head again as panic set in. She couldn’t be a mate to three men. She’d never even been with one man. She didn’t realize she was hyperventilating until Emmy took her hand in hers and held her gaze with her own. “Hold your breath, Kenzie.” She did as the other woman ordered. “Now, exhale slowly.” She breathed out. “Good, now inhale just as slowly.”
Kenzie repeated the process a few times until her rapid heartbeat and breathing regulated. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t…I can’t…”
“You don’t have to decide anything right away, Kenzie,” Dusty said. “You need to rest and heal. No one is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Will you please give them a chance, Kenzie?” Emmy asked. “Jayson, Jenson, and Jordan are wonderful, caring men. They think no woman will ever want them because of their scars. I’ve seen the way some women react when they look at those three heroes. They might look confident, but deep down they gave up hope of ever having a woman to love them for who they are. Can you look beyond their scars to the protective, gentle souls they try to hide?”
“Their scars don’t bother me,” Kenzie snapped and then sighed when she realized how rude she was being. She understood why Emmy had asked such a thing of her. The other woman had seen how the opposite sex spurned the three panther shifters because of their war wounds. An ache formed over her heart. She hated to think of the pain and rejection they’d suffered because of the marks on their skin.
Kenzie was very, very attracted to the Cannon men and wanted to get to know them better. These people, Jordan, Jenson, and Jayson included, showed her how compassionate they all were. She had nowhere else to go, no means to get wherever she decided to wander to next. If she stayed here in Ambrose, she could recuperate from her injuries and maybe even find a job to earn some money.
The only way she could lose was if the pimp, his men, or the Triad leader found out where she was. While that thought scared the absolute crap out of her, she remembered that the men in this town were trained military. They could also change into animals.
She would be safer here than out in the world on her own. She’d heard the other women’s stories and didn’t want to spend the rest of her life on the run and looking over her shoulder.
Staying in Ambrose might be the best decision she’d ever made in her life.
“Let them take you home with them, Kenzie,” Pixie urged.
“You won’t regret it,” Dusty said. “If things don’t work out, all you have to do is call one of us and we’ll come get you.”
“Promise?” Kenzie asked.
“Promise,” all three women answered simultaneously.
Kenzie sucked in a deep breath and hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. “Okay.”
* * * *
Jenson’s knees buckled when he heard Kenzie agree to go home with them. He stumbled and managed to stay on his feet as elation poured into his heart and soul.
Although she’d snarled at Jayson when he’d asked if their injuries bothered her, he hadn’t really believed her until he’d heard her telling Emmy the same thing. When she’d scrambled from his lap and stumbled away from him and he’d seen the silvery white lines of scars on the back of her thighs, rage had hazed his gaze red.
He’d felt anger before but seeing his mate bruised, swollen, and injured from years of abuse had almost snapped his control. How he’d managed to keep it banked when he had a raging cauldron scalding his gut he would never know. Maybe knowing he’d scare her had been enough to keep it locked down. Whatever the reason, he was grateful. Grateful to the other women for their help in reassuring their mate. For the help in explaining what they were to her.
When first Emmy, then Pixie and Dusty had arrived in Ambrose, he’d been happy for their men, but also jealous because he’d never expected to have a woman of his own to love. Now that she was here and had agreed to come home with him and his brothers, he was scared. Scared he’d fuck it up and send her running from them. Scared to hope too much only to have her reject them, to turn away from them and walk out of their lives, leaving them in the cold, empty shell they’d surrounded themselves with since they’d been medically discharged from the Marines.
He was excited and nervous all at once and wasn’t sure which way to turn. He glanced at his brothers and saw they were both as tense as he was. Jayson was clenching his jaw and Jordan had his hands curled in white-knuckled fists.
“You need to make sure she eats,” Broden said breaking the tension in the room, albeit only slightly. “She needs to keep her fluids up and give her pain meds every four hours without exceeding the dosage. If the pain gets too much for her, call me and I can give her a shot.”
“We will,” Jayson said and held his hand out toward Broden. “Thanks for caring for our mate.”
Broden shook Jayson’s hand. “You’re welcome. Airen, Archer, and I will be taking over in the hotel’s kitchen.”
Jenson and then Jordan shook hands with the Kodiak shifter.
“Don’t forget to tell her about the benefits of mating to a shifter.” Broden nodded to them and then wandered toward the clinic’s kitchen.
Emmy opened the examination room door and smiled at them as she hurried over to Jett. “You’re amazing, mate. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Jett.” She giggled when her polar bear mate swept her up into his arms and carried her out.
“We’ll see you soon, Kenzie,” Pixie sad as she rushed toward Tatum. “Let’s go, my king.”
“You’re such a smart-ass.” Tatum smiled.
“You love my ass.” Pixie laughed when Tatum growled.
“Where’s Broden?” Dusty asked but held her hand up before they could answer. “Don’t worry I’ve found him.” She rushed toward the kitchen.
Jenson took a step toward the open doorway, then another and another. He paused and drew in another deep breath, trying to get his raucous emotions under wraps. When he was sure he wouldn’t pounce on Kenzie as soon as he set eyes on her, he entered the room. Jordan and Jayson were right behind him.
He stopped at the end of the bed and stared at his beautiful mate. Even with her face bruised and swollen, he knew she was stunning. Her long blonde hair was a wild halo around her head and shoulders. Her golden eyelashes were crescents fanning her puffy, discolored cheeks. Even though the examination bed was narrow, it was longer and wider than the usual bed to accommodate their large shifter bodies, if they were ever too injured to heal quickly. She looked so damn tiny in it, almost child-like.
Her eyes fluttered open, she gave them a sleepy glance. She tried to sit up and Jayson hurried to her side to help her. “Do you really want me to come home with you?”
Jayson gently brushed some strands of hair back from her forehead. “We do, honey. More than anything.”
“I’m not promising to…” She waved her hand in the air and her cheeks turned pink as she glanced away.
&n
“We’ll go at your pace, baby.” Jordan patted her shin.
“Then can we please get out of here?” Kenzie asked. “I’ve had an aversion to hospitals since my mom died of pneumonia.”
“Do you want to walk, or do you want me to carry you, honey?”
“Uh, I don’t think it’d be a good idea for me to walk right now.” Kenzie grimaced. “I’m still feeling a little woozy and I don’t want my ass hanging out for all the world to see.”
“I’d never let that happen, mate,” Jayson said in a growly voice as he scooped her up into his arms.
Jordan made sure the blanket was secured around her body and then they all headed out toward the truck.
Jenson followed his brothers and mate, his face aching as he used muscles he hadn’t used in a very long time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a reason to smile.
Or the last time he’d felt happy, excited, and optimistic.
Chapter Five
Kenzie watched the road as Jayson drove the truck. Jordan was sitting beside her in the back and Jenson was sitting in the front passenger seat. She was nervous, but she wasn’t scared anymore. Her fears had been laid to rest and now she was just tired. Her belly gurgled with emptiness and she tried to remember the last time she’d eaten anything.
She was shocked when she realized it had been nearly forty-eight hours ago. No wonder she was starving and lightheaded.
“What’s your last name, Kenzie?” Jordan asked.
She glanced at him and was surprised to have his full attention. She had other men—or should that be boys?—ask her questions, but they hadn’t really wanted to hear the answer or get to know her. They’d only been interested in trying to get into her pants, but had soon turned away when they realized they hadn’t stood a chance. Jordan seemed to be sincerely interested in her, and from the way Jayson was glancing at her in the rearview mirror and Jenson was gazing at her from over his shoulder, they were just as interested.
“Howard.”
“Where did you live, Kenzie?” Jayson asked as he slowed the truck and turned into a driveway.
She gasped when she saw the beautiful two-story house and surrounding landscaped gardens. It was gorgeous and reminded her of the plantation mansion she’d seen in the old movie Gone with the Wind, only on a much smaller scale. “Bismarck. You have an amazing house.”
“Thanks.” Jayson parked the truck close to the front porch and turned off the ignition.
“So, you’re a native of North Dakota.” Jenson winked and then turned to get out of the car.
“I am,” Kenzie blushed and quickly redirected the conversation as she opened her own door. “What branch of the military did you serve in?”
“Marines,” Jordan answered as he clasped her wrist. “Stay there, baby. We’ll help you out.”
She didn’t have to wait long because Jenson lifted her into his arms and carried her up the steps toward the front door. Jordan raced around them, opened the door, and stepped aside. He was stroking the scar running from just beneath his left eye, down over his cheek, chin, and neck.
The entry was huge, but the living room Jenson carried her into was massive. The ceilings were high and while she’d been hoping the house wasn’t over the top ostentatious, she was relieved to see that the furniture, although big, was comfortable. Their home had a welcoming, lived-in feel.
Jenson carried her over to the sofa and eased her onto a cushion.
Jayson came in and sat in the armchair across from her. When she noticed Jordan was still touching his scar, she felt bad. He sat on the cushion beside her, but didn’t meet her gaze. Kenzie hated that she’d reminded them of a traumatic time and the haze in Jordan’s blue eyes as he remembered being hurt. She reached over and clasped his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Jordan scrubbed his free hand over his face. “You didn’t upset me, baby. I just hope that the scars don’t turn you off.”
Kenzie snorted as she tugged the blanket out from under her legs and shoved it to the floor. She stood, turned her back to them as she tugged the ties on her hospital gown and pulled it off her shoulders, clutching it to her front, glad that she still had her boy-short panties on.
“I have scars, too. Do you think less of me because my skin is marked? Do you think that changes who I am inside?”
“You told us, but I didn’t think…fuck!” Jayson snarled.
“Shit!” Jordan growled.
“Kenzie!” Jenson rasped.
She pulled the gown back up over her shoulders, turned, and sank onto the sofa. She was about to reach for the blanket, but Jordan beat her to it and draped it over her lap. “Thanks.”
“How many times?” Jayson asked in a hard voice.
“What?”
“How many fucking times did he whip you with his fucking belt?”
Kenzie brushed her hair back from her face as she met Jayson’s gaze. “Too many to count. I passed out before he finished.”
“He’s a fucking dead man,” Jenson growled as he shoved to his feet and began to pace.
“You can’t kill him,” Kenzie said.
Jenson spun to face her. “You expect me, us, to let someone that beats, tortures kids and women to walk the same earth you do?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Jordan shifted beside her so that he was facing her.
“Because he isn’t worth ruining your life over,” she said. “He isn’t worth going to jail for. Please, just let it go. He’ll get his just desserts one day. I believe in karma.”
Jayson stalked over to her, took her hands in his, and helped her to her feet. He gently pulled her into his body and wrapped her in his heat, in his strength, his compassion. He kissed the top of her head. “He’ll never touch you again, honey. Never.”
Kenzie wrapped her arms around his waist and breathed him in. The aches and pains in her body dissipated as her frame heated with desire. If her belly hadn’t grumbled so loudly right then, she might have reached up, tugged his head down to hers, and kissed him.
“What do you want to eat, Kenzie?” Jayson asked as he lifted her against his chest and carried her toward the kitchen.
“Oh my God,” she whispered in awe as she stared about the kitchen. “This is amazing. Do you cook?”
Jayson grinned down at her and nodded. “We cook all the food at the pub.”
She glanced over his shoulder at Jordan and Jenson. “All of you?”
They nodded. She smiled. “I like to cook, too, but it became a chore when I had to cook for him.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about doing anything but healing from now on, baby.” Jordan pulled a stool out from under the counter and Jayson lowered her onto the seat.
Jenson sat on the stool next to her while Jayson and Jordan began to pull fresh ingredients from the huge double door fridge before placing them on the counter.
“Do you like omelets or would you prefer something else, honey?” Jayson glanced up from chopping the bell peppers with the efficiency of a chef.
“I like pretty much anything,” she answered.
“Do you prefer sweet or savory?” Jenson asked.
“Both. The only thing I really can’t take to is Brussels sprouts.”
“Tell me it isn’t true.” Jordan placed a hand over his heart in a dramatic display while grinning.
“They’re awful. Bitter and yuck.”
Jenson shifted closer to her, draped an arm around her shoulders as he said, “I’ll bet you’ve never had them with applesauce or creamy-mustard cheese sauce.”
She shook her head and replied breathily, “Can’t say that I have.”
“You’re in for a treat then, honey,” Jayson said as he placed a large pan on the industrial sized cooktop. “We’ll make both variations for you at some time and if you don’t like them we promise to never cook them again.”
“Don’t do that. I’d hate for you all to miss out on something you liked just because I don’t like them.”
Jenson removed his arm from her shoulders, rose, and hurried around the counter to the fridge. He grabbed a jug and some glasses and then carried them over to the table behind her.
“Do you want some juice, tea, or coffee, or is water okay?” He asked as he came to stand beside her.
“It feels like forever since I’ve had a coffee, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Jenson bent down and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Nothing is too much trouble for you, sweetie.”
Minutes later they were all sitting at the table eating delicious fluffy omelets and drinking coffee. Kenzie was astounded that she was so comfortable and how right it felt. It was intimate but in a non-sexual way. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she might belong.
She liked Dusty, Pixie, and Emmy and knew that if she stayed, they would end being great friends. She’d never had that before. Before long she was so full, she could barely keep her eyes open. Kenzie had eaten more in this one sitting than she had in the last week. Her face and ribs were hurting and all she wanted to do was crawl into a bed, curl up into a ball, and sleep. Nonetheless, she wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.
She was scared.
Scared that the pimp and the Triad guy would find her. Scared that the continuous nightmares would hound her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to sleep the night through again. Because of the man posing as her father over the last ten years had beaten her constantly, she dreamt about the pain and violence almost every night.
For some unfathomable reason, she didn’t want to upset these three men. She knew it would tear them up if she screamed and begged in her sleep. How she knew that, she had no idea. She just did.
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