by V. Vaughn
My phone calls out my next turn, and I realize it’s the road to the lumber mill. I take a deep breath and hope my dream guy doesn’t turn me away. At least this time I thought about what I’m going to say so a stream of babble doesn’t spout out of my mouth. Now to find him.
As I approach the parking lot, my palms get sweaty, and my tattoo begins to throb. He’s here. When I park, my eyes fall shut for a moment as the memory of his lips on my neck floods my mind. I tingle in response but shake my head to clear my thoughts. This guy is so not interested in me that way.
Loud bangs and shouts sound as I head toward a tractor trailer that contains logs. A man is in a vehicle with a long-armed claw that squeaks as it unloads the wood and places it on a moving chute. A guy in a plaid jacket jumps down from the cab of the truck that is being unloaded and notices me. He smiles, and I don’t miss his quick scan of my body. I don’t usually turn heads like thin girls do, but this male clearly appreciates the way I look judging by the low noise he makes under his breath.
“Hello, sweetheart. Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for the boss.”
“Are you now? Which one?”
Oh boy. “Um, the guy who’s really tall with dark hair and blue eyes.”
The man grins. “Darn, my eyes are brown. You must want Keith.”
I smile back, because while I don’t think he’s anyone’s boss, I appreciate the flirting. “That sounds right. Do you know where I can find him?”
“Try the office.” He points to a door. “Right through there and to the right. Can’t miss it.”
I pull a piece of hair out of my mouth that the wind blew into my face and tuck it behind my ear. “Thanks.”
The main door of the building is heavy, clear glass, and I yank hard to get it open. When it shuts behind me, the noise outside is muffled, and I walk slowly along the dark-gray industrial carpet. My heart beats against my chest as I try to remember what I was going to say. When I turn right, the hallway opens up to a reception area, and past it, a door is ajar.
I find my courage and throw my shoulders back as I approach. He’s sitting at the desk, and keys click as he types on a computer. My knuckles rap on the door to get his attention. The guy looks up in confusion and blinks to focus.
“Hi.”
He stands up as his face relaxes. “Tori.”
My face heats up, because my body betrays me with its sexual urges. His eyes are so blue that it’s like staring into the sky, and I lose my train of thought. Breaking away from his gaze, I focus on his chin. “I hadn’t heard from you and thought maybe you lost my number. I would have called, but you didn’t give me your name.”
Unfortunately his chin is too close to his lips, and I lick mine in the memory of what he tasted like in last night’s dream.
The man glances at me, and his eyes are squinted before he relaxes them with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll bet this is hard for you.”
I nod. He’s not angry, but his brow is furrowed a bit as if something’s wrong. “I shouldn’t have come here,” I say as I start to back away.
“No. It’s okay.” He comes out from behind his desk. “I’m Keith. Do you want some milk and cookies?”
Seriously? Does he think I’m seven? But a cookie does sound good. “Sure.”
“Right this way.” Keith leads me back toward the hall, and we continue straight to go past it. He pulls open a door to a large room and lets me enter first. It appears to be the employee cafeteria, and we walk by round, laminated tables toward a stainless steel machine, where he pours two glasses of milk. I smile when he grabs a cookie and takes a bite. He catches my eye and nods towards the tray of baked goods. I grab one, too.
“Come sit,” he says as he walks toward the closest table. We’re the only ones in here, and I wonder if he’s supposed to be taking a break.
After we’re seated, I snap off a bite of my treat and fiddle with it as I say, “If you need to work, we can do this another time.”
Keith has a little milk mustache, making him appear younger than he is, judging by his job and the fine lines near his eyes. “Nope. I needed a snack, and you just reminded me.”
His words are casual, but he hasn’t cracked a smile. Such a serious man. “Okay. Good.” I sip my milk to wash down the sugary flavor of cookie.
“Getting rid of your dreams isn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” I take another sip of my milk and wish I could do something to make him grin. I wait for him to explain more.
He gulps down the rest of his milk and then asks, “Want a tour?”
That’s random, but I say, “I’d love one.”
I finish my milk, too, and when I’m done, his lips turn up just the slightest as he reaches toward me. I lean in without thinking, and he stops just before he touches me and pulls his hand back quickly. “Ah. You’ve got a milk mustache.”
He does feel this attraction. But why did he stop himself? Oh, Keith, you shouldn’t have done that. Because even though he didn’t touch me, now I know he wants to. I smile as I wipe my mouth with my sleeve. “You do, too.”
He copies my movement and grabs my glass as he stands. “C’mon.”
He drops the cups in a plastic bin full of dishes on the way out. We leave through a different exit than the one we entered through, and this hallway is industrial, with tile flooring and concrete walls that are lined with hooks and cubbies. An assortment of hard hats is hanging on the wall, and Keith grabs one to inspect it. He holds it out to me. “Try this on.”
I place it on my head and cock my hip in a pose. “How do I look?”
The smile he’s trying so hard not to crack threatens to escape again. “Cute.” He reaches into a cubby and pulls out a hat of his own and two sets of ear-protection headphones. “Here. You’ll want these, too.”
After we put on the headgear, Keith leads me through a door that opens up to a large warehouse-like space full of machinery. He walks me over to where the chute I saw earlier is carrying in the fresh cut logs and depositing them in a machine that removes the bark. They move on toward a series of saws that cut them into planks. Our headphones don’t allow us to communicate other than pointing.
Keith directs me to a small control room, and I’m relieved when we get to remove our ear protection. A computer screen appears to be monitoring the wood planks and rejecting the ones that don’t have the right measurements. Keith says, “Do you have any questions about what you’ve seen so far?”
“What happens to the scraps?”
He answers everything I ask with the patience of someone who finds this as fascinating as I do. When we’re done in the control room, he finishes the tour near the trucks being loaded with kiln-dried wood for retail distribution. He brings me back to the hallway, where I return my hard hat. It clatters on the wall as I gush on about the operation, and Keith asks, “Have you always been interested in how things work?”
I nod. “That’s why I decided to major in engineering. I was the little girl who took apart her talking doll to see if I could get her to say different things.” I grin, recalling my mother’s dismay that one of her triplets would rather take her toys apart that use them as intended.
Keith smiles the tiniest bit. “I was that kind of kid, too.” He begins to walk us back toward his office, and our footsteps are muffled again once we hit the carpet.
“Did you major in engineering?”
The heavy door slams behind us, and the silence is almost deafening now that we’re in the administrative part of the building. “Yes. I even went to UMO.”
My first thought is to ask him when he graduated, but since I got my first smile, I don’t want to point out our age difference. “So you’re a Black Bear too.” The animal is the mascot for the university.
We’ve stopped at the hallway that leads outside, and his eyes widen for a moment before he furrows his brow. “How much do you know about your dreams?”
“Not much. The woman who gave m
e my tattoo said I was being called and that the guy in my dreams would want to date me. Only you don’t, so....”
He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “Tori, I’m twenty-eight. And you’re what, eighteen?”
I nod.
Keith lets out a low noise that’s almost a growl. “I’m going to figure this out for you.” He stares into my eyes, and my body hums with desire I don’t want to control. “We aren’t right for each other.”
I hear the words, but when his lips part and his pupils widen, I don’t believe them. He feels our connection, too. I say, “Thanks. Now about that internship. I was serious. I actually need one this semester. Got any openings?”
Keith’s shoulders slump in defeat. “I’ll make one.” He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a card. “Email me the details.”
Hope bursts in my heart, and I clutch the card in my hands as I grin. “Thank you. I won’t let you down. I promise.”
I get a genuine smile this time, and he says, “I know you won’t.”
Chapter 21
Lucy
When Tori told me about her tattoo, I got nervous. I’m sure that’s the sign the Le Roux use to call human women to their clan so they can bear children and continue the bloodline. Being the daughter of the Robichaux alpha, I have an in on the politics of the three clans that make up the Northeast Kingdom, and the practice of turning humans into werebear didn’t sit well with the other clans when they heard about it.
But once one of the humans turned out to be my mother’s daughter, things changed for Mom. Now Carly Le Roux is the alpha successor to our clan as well as the prima for hers. Yeah, that wasn’t a big hit with my father. Not that my mother cheated on him or anything. She had Carly before they got married. No, it was more because he had high hopes for my twin Luke to take over.
So when I discovered Tori had been called by the Le Roux, I wasn’t sure who to tell. I don’t want to reveal that I’m a werebear before she’s ready to know, and I sure don’t want to tell Tori she’s part shifter and freak her out. Since I finally decided to let my stepsister, Carly, train me as a tattoo artist, I figure she’s my best bet. I push open the door to Ink It, where she works, and Sierra glances up from a laptop. Her eyes are big in her face, and they’re accentuated by her super-short jet-black bangs cut in a straight line.
“Hey. I’m glad you’re here. I have a proposition for you.”
Uh-oh. Sierra has triplet boys, and I’m afraid she wants me to help. “I’d make a terrible babysitter.” My coat peels away from my sweater and crackles with static electricity.
“That’s not what I was going to ask. Carly and I would like to hire you to work the front desk.” She holds up her hand as if I’m going to object. “It’s not usually busy between clients, and it would give you plenty of time to practice. Plus we’ll work around your class schedule.”
I wouldn’t mind hanging around the tattoo parlor, so I say, “Sounds good to me. When do I start?”
Sierra shakes her head as she grins. “Well, that was easy.” The laptop clunks on the counter, and she types a bit before turning it toward me. “Just fill in the hours you can work, and I’ll let you know what we can do.”
The keys click as I type my name into the right slots on the calendar before me. When I’m done, I ask, “Where’s Carly? I need to talk to her.” I reach for my bag and lift out my sketch pad.
“She’s at Kick It watching a new warrior, but she’ll be back soon. Can I see what you’ve got?”
I glance at the notebook in my hand and realize Sierra probably thinks I want to show Carly my latest designs. “Oh. Sure.” I pass it to her. Sierra’s a talented tattoo artist, and I value her opinion as much as my stepsister’s.
It makes me nervous to watch someone look at my work, so I ask, “Mind if I go over and find her?”
A page of my sketch pad flips, and Sierra speaks without glancing at me. “Sure. Go ahead.”
I wander toward the sound of shouts and grunts. Ian notices me and smiles. He’s totally hot, and my cheeks heat up a bit, because I definitely have a crush on him. Carly set me up with him as a personal trainer a while back, and I look forward to our weekly sessions. Right now he’s working with the tallest woman I’ve ever seen. She’s also a damn good fighter—she beats up a punching bag as if it were a feather pillow.
When she turns, I notice the white-blond ponytail is attached to a stunning girl. Jealousy tweaks at me, but there isn’t much I can do, so I approach Carly instead.
She notices me and says, “Hey.” She nods her head toward the blonde. “Pretty amazing, huh?”
I nod. “Who is she?”
“A polar bear from the Arctic.” Carly turns away, and we walk toward Ink It. She says, “I’ve got some pig skin for you to practice on.”
“Cool. I need to ask you something.”
“Sure. What is it?” We’ve turned the corner, and the noise of the gym fades. We stop at the drink station, where Carly grabs a plastic cup.
I take a mug instead, and the ceramic handle is smooth in my fingers. “You know Tori who came in for a bear-paw tattoo?”
“Yeah. I remember her.” Water splashes in Carly’s cup.
“Well, she’s my roommate, and that mark is because she was called, right?” I fill my mug with coffee and pour creamer in. I swirl the contents instead of dirtying a spoon to mix it.
“It is. Did she ask you about it?”
I shake my head quickly. “I haven’t told her anything. But she saw the guy she dreams about the other day, and now she’s kind of stalking him.”
Carly gulps her mouthful of water. “How so?”
“She went to where he works and somehow got an internship. The thing is, I think he’s old, like—” I almost said “like you,” and Carly’s smile tells me she knows it. “Well, too old for her.”
“I know. She’s been dreaming about my friend Keith. We’re trying to find her someone more suitable.”
“Oh, good.”
The odor of sweat approaches us, and I glance up to see the blonde and Ian coming our way. I smile at Ian, and he says, “Lucy. Good to see you.” He’s a shameless flirt, but it works for me anyway when he gives me the once-over with his eyes. “You look fabulous as usual.”
“Thanks.” I’ve gotten bold with him over time, so I banter back. “You look—hot.”
He chuckles as he reaches for a cup to get water. “Have you met Isabelle yet?”
Ian’s about Carly’s age, and I know he doesn’t think of me as dating material, but I haven’t given up hope. I eye the girl and paste on a smile. “Hi.”
She frowns at me when Ian says, “This is Lucy Robichaux.”
“Are you related to Luke?”
“I am. He’s my twin.”
Her grin is huge when she says, “I know him.”
I’ll bet you do. My brother’s a player, and I guess they’ve hooked up. But it makes me happy, because that means she’s probably not after Ian. “I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It is.” She takes a sip of water and swallows. “It most definitely is.”
“Will I see you at his party Friday night?” My brother is on the board of his fraternity. It’s a werebear frat, and they’re known to get wild.
Isabelle frowns as she says, “No. I wasn’t invited.”
“Oh, it’s not something you need to be invited to. It’s at the Delta house.”
“Delta house?”
Ian says, “That’s a frat house at Orono.”
Realization dawns on Isabelle’s face. But she doesn’t look happy, and I wonder if she has a thing against frat boys. She shrugs. “Maybe.”
Ian says, “Break time’s over. Let’s get back at it.”
Isabelle’s cup crunches in her hand before she tosses it in the garbage, and I have a feeling she’s got plans for my brother. But they may not be pretty.
As they walk away, I say, “Maybe I should bring Tori to that party. There will be lots of eligible werebear, and s
he might find one she likes.”
Carly nods. “That’s not a bad idea. Because Keith isn’t a good match for her, and it would be nice if we could divert that attraction.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Carly places her hand on my shoulder. “Thank you, Lucy. I appreciate your help.”
Her gratitude makes me smile, and I’m surprised by it. When I first learned that Carly was my stepsister I wasn’t pleased. But now that she’s welcomed me into her life with open arms, I don’t mind having a sister after all.
Chapter 22
Isabelle
Wonderful. I’ve fallen for a college boy. Icy wind whips around my sweaty skin, cooling me off from my workout as I pound down the sidewalk to the truck I drive. Fortunately my intense workout calmed me. I wonder if Luke’s legally able to drink. Although he did get more than one bottle of wine at the restaurant for our date. But that could have been because it was a werebear hangout, and we do tend to follow our own set of rules. The familiar rush of heat to my skin as sexual desire runs through my veins is clouding my judgment, because I’d like to ignore age and be with Luke again. That man-child sure knows what he’s doing when it comes to pleasing a woman. What are a few years, anyway?
I’ve fought the urge to call him for a couple days, because I don’t do that. Men chase me. And that’s how I like it. A growl forms in my throat, and the plastic of my phone case is slippery in my fingers when I pull it from my back pocket. I do need to chat with my contact about what’s going on with my brother, right? I send a simple text.
We need to talk.
Luke reads it right away, and his text is quick to follow. Busy tonight?
Where and when? I’ve reached my vehicle, and a quick double beep sounds as I unlock it.
My place whenever you can get here.
An hour later, after I’m showered and fed, I arrive at Luke’s. His apartment is too upscale for a typical college student, and it makes sense I didn’t know he was one. The building has a doorman that needs to announce me, and I pace the small lobby while I wait for Luke to come down. The carpet is red and plush. Two leather couches are set across from each other, and a gas fireplace is burning. When we came here the other night, I must have been too drunk to remember this. Funny, I’m not a small girl and can definitely hold my liquor. That was some strong wine.