Boreas Reborn

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Boreas Reborn Page 18

by Ariana Hawkes


  He turned back to the computer and she slunk away, grinding her teeth hard enough to break rocks. That piece of human garbage.

  Lauren was still stewing five hours later when she was leaving work for the day. She marched across the parking lot, muttering under her breath and so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the tall, dark figure leaning on the hood of her car.

  “Lauren,” a familiar deep voice said as she rooted in her purse for her keys.

  She gasped. “Connor?”

  He pushed himself off the car, towering over her. “I’m sorry for how I was this morning.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Keeping her head down, she continued to look for her keys. Please don’t tell me I left them in the office.

  “I had no right to speak to you like that.”

  “It’s okay. I left something inside.” She turned back toward the entrance.

  “Your keys are in the ignition.”

  “What?” She tried the car door. It opened. “Shit.” She climbed in, slammed the door behind her. In a flash, Connor sped around the car and jumped into the passenger seat.

  She stared at him tiredly. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m trying to apologize, woman. I know you weren’t in charge of any of these decisions. I know you’ve only been trying to help us. I just flipped out. It just got me right here.” He slapped his hand over his big chest. “When I saw something I built being sold by someone like it was theirs, I just went crazy.”

  “I get that. It made me feel sick as well, and it’s not even my cabin.”

  “Lauren, I’m real sorry. And I need your help. You’re the only one who can help us save these cabins. Please.”

  The corner of her lips quirked. “So you don’t want to turn them into a heap of junk again?”

  “No. It’s my land. And my clan’s going to live there, and they’re all going to have mates and cubs, damnit!”

  “That’s more like it. Well, I have discovered a couple of things at work that seemed a little fishy. And I’ve spoken to a friend who gave me some advice. I was going to go see her now actually. You can come along if you want?”

  Connor let off a groan. “You were already helping me? I feel more like an a-hole than ever.”

  “Good.” She shot him one of the looks she used to give her siblings when they’d been way out of line, and he looked suitably chastened. “You can make it up to me sometime.”

  It was a fifteen-minute drive to Kristin’s downtown apartment, and it wasn’t easy having Connor next to her. He had such a big presence, as if he carried an electric forcefield around him, and his deep, woodsy scent was thick in her nostrils. Had he really kissed her a day ago? It already felt like she’d dreamed it. She might as well have.

  “How’s your clan coping with the situation?” she asked, her voice breaking through the silence like a knife.

  He gave a terse laugh. “Like a bunch of brawling cubs. It’s not easy keeping them together at the best of times. Ryzard’s trying to start up a faction of his own. Reckons he’ll be a better leader. And I know how that’s going to end. Some dead humans, and all of us turned into bear skins.”

  Lauren shuddered. “We’re going to fix this, Connor. Don’t worry.” She fell silent again, thinking about his care for his clan, how he’d said they were going to have mates and cubs.

  They pulled up at Kristin’s place, and she came to the door immediately, all tumbling red curls and sparkling dark eyes. She was 5’9” and statuesque, and Lauren suddenly felt like a chubby little elf as she introduced her to Connor.

  “Come in, come in!” she said. “I’ve been putting some ideas together, but I want to hear the whole story from Connor first.”

  “Kristin is a journalist for the Hope Valley Echo,” Lauren explained as Kristin showed them into her stylish modern apartment that would make Lauren insanely jealous if she wasn’t her best friend.

  Connor perched on the edge of the sofa, looking uncomfortable and endearingly out of place in the urban environment.

  Kristin pulled out a note pad. “So, Lauren was saying you were looking around the land with your clan when someone who said he worked for the Parks Department approached you?”

  “Yup,” Connor said and started to tell her the story.

  “So, you could try to take them to court,” Kristin said when he was done. “But it can get very expensive. And it looks like you’re short on evidence.”

  “Even though he can describe my boss right down to his pregnant belly?” Lauren cut in.

  Kristin shrugged. “As you know, I’m not a lawyer, hun. But I’ve spent plenty of time observing court proceedings, and I’ve had compulsory legal training as a journalist. It’s all about the burden of proof, and it’s not in your favor.”

  Connor let off a groan. “Because I’m a dumb bear.”

  “No, because my boss is an unprincipled pile of cat-sick,” Lauren said.

  “How would you feel about a piece in the paper, though?” Kristin said thoughtfully. “We could tell your story. Include a photo of you. You’ve got a nice, honest face.”

  “What good would that do?”

  “It might get the town on your side. They’re very protective of their citizens, and welcoming of outsiders, too. I’m sure they’d be angry to know you’d been cheated.”

  Connor nodded slowly. “And then what?”

  Kristin raised her hands. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. But I think it’s our best shot.”

  “I’ll take it,” he said immediately. “What do I need to do?”

  “I’ve got enough here to write the piece,” she said, flicking through her notes. “So I just need to take a photo of you, and we’re done.”

  “I’ve got some photos of the cabins being built, too,” Connor said.

  “Let me see.” Kristin took his phone. “These are perfect. I’ll put them in for sure.” She switched on Bluetooth and transferred them. “Now, it would be best if I could take the shot of you in front of your cabin, showing how it’s been boarded up…but I guess it’s a little dark already. We’ll have to do it first thing tomorrow. I can come around say, eight-thirty a.m.?”

  “I’ll be up and ready.” Connor got to his feet. “Thanks so much, Kristin, Lauren,” he said gruffly, already heading toward the front door. “You’ve given me some hope.”

  “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “But where’s your car?” Lauren called.

  “Not far away.” Before they could say anything else he was gone, the door closing behind him.

  Lauren and Kristin stared at each other. “Big, sexy mountain man’s got it bad for you, girl,” Kristin said in a sing-song voice.

  “What? No.” Lauren shook her head hard. “He doesn’t like me.”

  “Uh, you should’ve checked the view from where I was sitting. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

  “No. He’s told me he doesn’t like me like that.”

  Kristin’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Which means you’ve already had some kind of clinch.”

  Lauren blew out a long breath and stared at the ceiling. “Sometimes I hate that you’re a journalist and so damn good at figuring things out.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Okay. We had a date—not a real date—we were both testing a new dating service. You know Tamika, my new friend?”

  “Yeah, funny English lady. You mentioned her.”

  “She’s starting an app that’s supposed to match you based on a whole bunch of algorithms or something. I’m not a tech-geek. Anyway, so Connor and I got matched.”

  Kristin was grinning broadly. “Uh huh.”

  “And we had to go on a date and assess whether we were actually compatible.”

  “And he thought you weren’t?”

  “Yes. No. He kissed me, and then he said he didn’t like me.”

  “Kissed you how?”

  “Like the best, most spine-tingling kiss o
f my life. And he was into it, too. I mean, I could tell.”

  “But then he held out on you?” Kristin chewed her lip. “Sounds like a man with issues. He looks kind of troubled. What’s he got going on in the forest anyway?”

  “Oh…” Lauren paused, well aware that she couldn’t tell Kristin he and the guys were shifters. Tamika had sworn her to secrecy. “They’re just a bunch of guys who’ve had a hard deal in life. Think they like living out in nature, working with their hands.”

  Kristin’s nose wrinkled as it always did when she was excited. “I kind of like that. I’ve always wanted to get me a big strong guy who could chop wood, build me a house.”

  Lauren swallowed hard, thinking of the way Connor’s big, callused hands had felt on her body, holding her so gently, reverently. She liked the idea a lot, too.

  “Don’t give up on him, girl. He’s into you. A lot of guys don’t know what they want. They have this stupid pride and take themselves way too seriously.”

  Lauren made a hmmm sound. “You know I checked out of relationships a long time ago.”

  Kristin rolled her eyes. “I know. I know you got cheated on by the guy you thought you’d marry. But you were both very young. It happens. You didn’t date through your twenties, and now you feel embarrassed about being so inexperienced. But don’t be. Come on. No one deserves to be happier than you.”

  “Kristin, I can’t take rejection. You don’t understand.”

  “I kind of do, because we’ve got a lot in common, hun. But trust me on this. He’s into you.” She got to her feet. “I’m getting us some wine, and then we’re going to order pizza and watch a rom-com and talk about why you’re still working for your creep of a boss. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds fantastic,” Lauren said with a sigh.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, Lauren was awoken by the beep of a text message alert. She didn’t read it right away, wanting to enjoy the lazy Saturday-morning feeling for as long as possible. Not having to work today felt like a gift from heaven. She wallowed in her soft sheets, stretching her arms and then her legs. Talking to Kristin had done her good, as usual. She sometimes got caught up in negative-thought spirals, thinking she wasn’t qualified enough for her chosen career and she had to put up with whatever Errol threw at her. Kristin had taken out her laptop and made her look at some job sites, and there were a couple of postings that fit her skills and experience. Trouble was, none of them were in Hope Valley.

  “But there’ll be more,” Kristin had said gently.

  Lauren sighed and reached for her phone at last. The message was from Kristin:

  I just woke up with the flu. Can you believe it?! I’ll finish writing the article in bed since it needs to go to press this afternoon, but could you be a sweetheart and go take the photo of Connor for me? I’m in no shape for driving right now.

  Lauren released an epic groan. She had to see him again? Last night she’d pretended to go along with Kristin’s encouragement, but the fact was, she never wanted to see Connor again. It hurt. She liked him. He had made her feel alive inside, in a way that no one had before. And his rejection cut her deep.

  I’m sorry honey, that sucks. You need anything brought around? Of course, I’ll take the photos :) I’ll email them to you as soon as I’m done.

  Of course, she wasn’t going to refuse to help.

  No thanks. Think I just need to sleep, Kristin replied.

  When Lauren turned up at the cabins, it was just Connor again, sitting on his deck in the same pants and well-loved gray T-shirt she’d seen him in before. He was holding a mug in one of his big hands, and he was watching her avidly. “Lauren!” he called as she stepped out of the car. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I know. Kristin’s sick, so she asked me to come instead.” Did I imagine he looked happy with that? she wondered as she walked along the pathway. “Where is everyone?”

  “Ryzard’s gathered his faction together in the forest someplace.” He rolled his eyes. “Keeps them busy, I guess. And Logan and the rest are keeping guard, trying to figure out what he’s up to.” He raised his mug. “You want coffee?”

  “Sure. If it’s not a hassle.”

  “Nope. I had to break into my own place since I’m hardly guest of honor at the other cabin anymore. I’ll be back.” He sprang to his feet and disappeared around the back of the porch. She sat down on the step, gazing up at the ominously gray sky, asking herself why she’d said yes to the coffee when she’d already made a plan to be in and out in ten minutes. Because he looks so casual and sexy sitting there with his feet bare, like he just woke up. Because he grinned at me like he was happy I’d come instead of Kristin. Both stupid reasons.

  Connor returned with a mug, creamer, and a glass of water, all balanced effortlessly between his hands. She took the mug of coffee from him and poured a little of the water into it.

  “Figured you wouldn’t like your coffee too hot,” he said.

  “How did you guess?”

  He shrugged. “I saw you blowing on your lasagna a hell of a lot before it went into your mouth.”

  She blinked. How did he notice a thing like that? “Didn’t know I was being observed,” she said with a hint of defensiveness.

  Something passed across his eyes. “I pay attention. That’s all.”

  “Thanks. You’re right about the coffee.” She already regretted being so spiky, but he was confusing the hell out of her, and she didn’t like it.

  “It’s not the best lighting for taking photos,” she said, distracting herself with the heavy cloud looming overhead. “We should probably get going.”

  Connor got to his feet languidly, as if he was in no particular hurry. “You want me to keep my shirt on?” he said, already tugging at the hem.

  “Yes,” she said quickly. The last thing she needed was to see that deliciously contoured golden torso again. “Maybe you could go stand in front of the entrance to the cabin at the end of the row. I think the light’s better over there, and the barricades will show up real well.”

  “Sure thing.” They went over and he posed, leaning one arm against the door frame. No. That was way too sexy. All that would bring him was a bunch of female readers beating his door down.

  “You’ve gotta look more angry,” she called. “Focus on what’s happened to you.”

  It wasn’t working. She took a bunch of photos, and even on her phone screen, Connor looked kind of eager, hungry. “Maybe we need to have a fight,” she said. But the end of her words was drowned out by a crack of thunder. And not ten seconds later, a deluge began. Like a torrent from the sky.

  “Oh, my god!” she yelled and shoved her phone into her bra.

  “Come on!” Connor leapt down the porch steps in a single bound, scooped her up into his arms, and ran with her all the way to his own cabin. The rain was slanting, a gust of wind driving it at an angle, and even under the cover of the porch, they were still getting wet. Connor kept going around the side of the house to the back where he’d torn the steel sheeting off the window. Maneuvering her carefully, he thrust her through the open rectangle legs first. “You’re good now. Just put your feet down,” he said.

  She stretched her legs out cautiously and felt solid ground. When he released her gently, she landed on the floor. He leapt in after her, and they stood, laughing and swiping the water from their wet faces. Her hair clung to her head like a helmet, dripping everywhere. It would be a nightmare when it dried out again.

  “Wooh, that was a surprise,” Connor said.

  “Yeah, it came from nowhere—” She broke off because his T-shirt was coming off, and that body was being revealed again.

  He balled it up in his hand. “Can’t stand wearing wet clothes.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Does that mean the pants will be coming off, as well? His chest was wet, glistening, and she longed to run her hands all over it.

  “Your shirt’s drenched, too,” he said.

  “I can’t exactly take
it off, though,” she said, regretting the words the second they were out of her mouth. His dark brown eyes were watching her very intensely.

  With a burst of self-consciousness, she pushed her hair back. “I must look a state.”

  He took a step forward. “You look more beautiful than ever,” he breathed. And suddenly his mouth was on hers again. This time he didn’t go slow. He pulled her against him, his lips melding to hers, his tongue probing deep into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his tight, tapered torso, and they clung to each other, steam rising from their bodies. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, over the curves of her hips, and she liberated her hands too, running them all over his bare skin, his flesh hot and slick beneath her eager fingers. He hooked his hands into the belt loops of her jeans, pulling her up, kissing her all over her face, her neck, sucking on her lips, like he couldn’t get enough of her. She moaned in pleasure, lost to the sensations.

  His hands moved up and up. “This is getting in the way,” he growled, and before she knew it, her shirt was coming off. Her bra was wet too, and he cupped her big breasts, thumbs chafing her nipples through the damp fabric. “Lauren, you’re so sexy. I want you bad. Every inch of you.” His voice was deep, thick with his desire. He started to walk her backward, guiding her. She let him, lightheaded, stunned, but not wanting to lose contact with his velvety, slippery skin. He snatched kisses as they went, his mouth hot and tasting of coffee.

  He guided her into another room, his bedroom. Blood pounded in her ears. It was finally going to happen. And she was terrified. But her need for him was stronger than her fear. She needed him right there—the spot between her thighs that was aching so bad. He was hard already, his damp jeans clinging to the outline of his swollen cock that pressed against her belly, proving his need for her.

  The room was very dim with the windows boarded up. Leaving her beside the bed, he went to the corner and lit what looked like an oil lamp, which gave out a soft glow. There were bare log walls, a wooden floor with a couple of cow-hide rugs thrown on it, and the bed was made from wooden packing crates, with a mattress on top, which was covered with a clean-looking white comforter.

 

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