Backstroking With a Tiger Shark

by Charlie Richards

  At least those sensations seemed to drown out the throb in his head. As long as he didn’t focus on it, anyway. Rubbing his temples, he breathed slowly and kept his eyes closed as the staff doctor—Doc Keller, he’d introduced himself as—pushed the wheelchair they’d placed him in.

  He felt the air conditioned air blow over his wet, heated skin and shivered. Blinking open his eyelids, he forced a smile when he met Clarice’s gaze. “I’ll be okay,” Kane rasped, trying to sound reassuring. “Just need a few minutes to catch my breath.”

  “Are you sure?” Clarice whispered. She still clutched her children close even as she continued softly, “You swallowed a lot of water. You could have—”

  Kane lifted a hand, stalling her words. Yeah, he knew he could have died. Not just by drowning, either. He had slipped into a tank with a massive tiger shark while bleeding like a stuck pig.

  Doc Keller started to wheel him toward the back of what was obviously a nurse’s station—the small waiting room and woman behind a desk lined with sunscreen and other items gave it away. “Wait,” Kane mumbled. “Check Kent first.” He pointed at his nephew. “Make sure he’s okay.”

  “Other than all wet, Kent is fine,” Clarice assured, pulling her son forward. “See?”

  Wrapped in a towel, Kent grinned widely. “I went swimming in a shark tank!” he cried. “I can’t wait to tell my friends!”

  “I’m Kaiser Roush,” a deep voice stated, drawing Kane’s attention to the left and up... and up. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

  Kane just managed to keep from gaping. The man was... not only huge, but he had a damn presence. The stranger sported nape-length black hair, elegantly slicked back in a sort of wave hair-do. His intense, deep green eyes peered down at Kane.

  “My brother and I own this park. On behalf of us both, please accept our deepest apologies. We will more than compensate you for your visit.”

  The massive owner’s dark brows were furrowed. His black goatee framed full, downward curved lips. Kaiser had his arms crossed over his barrel chest—his thick muscles evident, even in the sports jacket he wore. His long legs were encased in a nice pair of blue jeans, showcasing his legs almost like a second skin.

  Well, damn!

  “Does anyone know how this happened?”

  Kane opened his mouth, but he paused.

  How had it happened?

  “I’m going to wheel you into an exam room real quick. Want to see if you need stitches,” Keller told him, moving him forward.

  “Eban and Tort are on their way,” Gerard stated, drawing Kaiser’s intense focus away from Kane.

  “Tort? Why?”

  Gerard shrugged. “Not sure.”

  The door to the room closed, cutting off the conversation.

  For the next ten minutes, Kane found himself checked over from top to bottom. Keller shined a light in his eyes, then told him to follow the end as he moved it back and forth. His head and scalp were washed. His lungs were listened to, as was his heart. Even a bruise forming on his ribs that he hadn’t felt was discovered and prodded.

  Kane ended up receiving three stitches on the left side of his scalp, just at the hairline. All in all, the shot to numb his scalp had been the most painful part of it all. His headache had even begun to ease by the time it was all over, probably due to the ibuprofen Keller had given him.

  “Now, one last thing,” Doc Keller murmured, sitting on the rolling stool in front of him. The auburn haired man smiled at him and held up a pen light. “Tell me how you feel. Alert? Tired? Groggy?” Keller held up his hand. “Take a second and really think about it, please.”

  Kane took in a slow deep breath. He rubbed over his jaw and thought about it. While he felt a little fatigued, he wasn’t surprised or alarmed by that. After all, an adrenaline crash after something so crazy was to be expected.

  Right?

  “Just an adrenaline crash, I think,” Kane answered honestly. He cleared his throat, then swallowed once, twice, trying to soothe the uncomfortable tingle in his throat. “We were planning to eat after the show, anyway.”

  “Well, your food and just about everything else is going to be on the house,” Keller told him, smiling. “Where do you want to go? Kaiser can get you into any of the restaurants without waiting.”

  “I don’t know,” Kane replied honestly. “It’s up to Kent. It was his birthday yesterday.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Keller rose from his rolling stool, then offered his hand to Kane. “We’ll have to help him celebrate, then.” Once Kane was standing, Keller eyed him critically. “I don’t suppose you have a change of clothes?”

  Kane peered down at his soaked clothes and shook his head. “Not so much.” He touched the stripe of red that stained the left side of his green polo shirt. “I think I have some clothes in my car, though.” Scowling, he added as he followed Keller out of the room, “Not that gym attire is suitable.”

  “I bet I can find you something,” a large, six-foot-four male claimed. He offered a smile, even as his deep gray-eyed gaze swept over Kane with an almost feral intensity. “I work here,” he added, holding out his hand. “Tortelion Muenster. Call me Tort.”

  Taking Tortelion’s hand—Tort, what kind of name was that—Kane felt a tingle of awareness slither through his body... along with a heavy surge of arousal. Wow! The hairs on the back of his arm stood on end, and he nodded slowly.

  “Tort,” Kane forced himself to respond. His voice came out rough, which he would forever blame on the water he’d sucked into his lungs—then hacked back up again. After clearing his throat, he introduced himself. “Kane Cornshun. This is my sister, Clarice,” he added, trying to get his brain to stop focusing on the way Tort continued to hold his hand, rubbing his thumb over the back oh-so-enticingly.

  Was the spark in Tort’s eyes interest?

  “I saw what happened,” Tort told him. “And came to explain to Mr. Roush regarding the incident.”

  Naw, probably just concern. No way could this big, sexy stranger be interested in me. Hell, he’s probably not even gay.

  Kane still couldn’t resist taking a quick, appreciative sweep of the man, though. His shoulders were broad, like Kaiser’s, but instead of appearing intimidating, he wore a welcoming smile, showing off his straight teeth. His deep gray eyes held warmth instead of an intense gleam. Even his bearing appeared welcoming.

  Everything about the man was enticing to Kane, from Tort’s wide pectorals to his thickly muscled limbs—showcased in his khaki shorts and short-sleeve, blue polo shirt. The outfit seemed standard for employees. Too bad it didn’t do the sexy man justice.

  And I shouldn’t be thinking like that. I’m going to get my ass kicked.

  “You okay?”

  Clarice’s question drew Kane out of his thoughts. He yanked his gaze away from Tort and focused on his sister. “Yeah. Sorry. Still getting my bearings, I guess.”

  “You said your head didn’t hurt.” Keller stepped up next to him and reached for him.

  A soft growl from Tort along with the man pulling Kane a step closer to him reminded Kane that Tort still held his hand.

  Kane cleared his throat again as he tugged on his hand. For a second, it seemed as if Tort wasn’t going to release him. Then he did. Except he immediately moved closer and wrapped his arm around Kane’s waist.

  Peering up at him in surprise, Kane didn’t fight Tort as he guided him to a chair.

  “You should sit down if you’re still woozy,” Tort encouraged.

  Shaking his head, Kane finally resisted. “No, no. I’m good,” he assured. “Just, uh, where would the clothes be? Lost and found?”

  “Naw,” Tort responded. “I live in the condos attached to the park. They’re for workers if they want to make it part of their pay,” he explained. “I’ll take you over there and find you something dry to wear.” His smile turned charming as he lifted his brows. “It’s the least we can do, after all.” Tort turned toward Cl
arice. “Does your son need clothes, too?”

  Clarice shook her head. “No. I have a change for him in a bag we have stowed in one of those pay-for-the-day lockers.”

  “I’m hungry,” Kent whined. “And I didn’t get to see the underwater aquarium.”

  “How about after lunch, I give you a tour,” Tort offered, smiling at the boy. “I’ll tell you all about the cool animals.”

  Kent’s eyes widened. “Can I pet the shark like Uncle Kane did?”

  “I don’t think what I did would be called petting a shark,” Kane responded, smiling at Kent. “And not a chance. What happened to us was dangerous.”

  “Again, I am sorry for that,” Kaiser said, drawing attention. His focus turned to Clarice. “Where do you intend to eat lunch? I’ll call ahead for you.”

  “Will you shoot me a text with that?” Tort asked, touching Gerard on the arm. “I’ll take the golf cart out to the condos.” He returned his focus to Kane and offered him a commiserating smile. “Your phone is probably toast, huh?”

  Grimacing, Kane nodded, thinking of his phone in his pocket. “No way it survived me going for a swim.”

  “If you have to pay for a new phone, please let me know the cost,” Kaiser cut in. “I gave my card to Clarice already.”

  Gerard glanced from Kaiser to Tort, his brows lifted in obvious surprise. “You’re taking Kane to the condos?”

  Tort grinned widely and nodded. “Rioght,” he said, faking Gerard’s accent in a horrible way. “Gonna get my new mate here up to the house to get cleaned up before he catches his death of cold.” He winked, then turned his attention to Clarice, dropping the accent. “Afterward I’ll drive him back down to whatever restaurant you decide on.”

  “New mate, huh?” While Gerard’s tone sounded teasing, there was something in it that Kane couldn’t put his finger on.

  Tort nodded.

  “All right,” Kaiser rumbled, his expression oddly speculative. “We’ll let you know.”

  Kaiser’s permission seemed to have been what Tort and Gerard had been waiting for. The two men exchanged fist bumps, then Tort urged Kane toward the door. Kane had just enough time to tell his sister and the kids, “see you shortly,” before he was whisked out of the building and onto the seat of a golf cart.

  Kane couldn’t help but notice that Tort sat pretty damn close on the wide seat, but maybe that was just because he was such a big man.

  * * * *

  As soon as Tort started driving, he felt as if his tongue became tied. He wanted to ask Kane a million questions, but he wasn’t certain where to even start. At least he’d noticed his human checking him out, and Tort could smell his arousal, so he knew his mate was interested in him.

  How do I approach him?

  “So, why do you think the tiger shark didn’t eat me?”

  Hearing Kane’s softly rasped question caused Tort’s balls to tingle. He shifted in his seat, racking his brain for the best way to answer. While he didn’t want to out and out lie to his mate, he couldn’t really tell him the truth, either.

  Not yet, anyway.

  “Well,” Tort began slowly. “It’s possible the scent of your blood confused the shark. He’d been eating elk meat, so it probably gives off a different scent.” That was true enough.

  “How’d I get to shore?” Kane’s brows furrowed as he peered at him. “I don’t really remember much after getting pushed by those teenagers and having my head slam on something.”

  “You’re a hero,” Tort told him, flashing a warm smile Kane’s way. “There were some asshole teenagers who weren’t supervised, and they shoved you down. You slipped on the wet concrete and smashed your head on a stair.”

  Seeing the blood drain from Kane’s face, Tort hesitated. He knew he needed to finish, however. Deciding to take a chance and test the waters of attraction, Tort reached over and rested his right hand over Kane’s where they were folded on his lap.

  Kane’s head snapped around to peer at him, and his brows shot up, expressing his surprise.

  “You took your nephew down with you,” Tort told him softly. He squeezed Kane’s folded hands, pleased that his human hadn’t pulled away. “That means he was in the pool, too, but even injured and bleeding in the water, your only thought was to lift your nephew into the arms of those waiting on the other side of the railing.”

  Tort knew he might be laying it on a little thick, but he knew that if he’d actually been just a regular tiger shark, Kane would probably have been attacked. His mate truly was a hero. He just didn’t need to know how close he’d come to dying.

  Seeing Keller work on him had just about caused Tort to expose himself to dozens of humans.

  Shaking off that thought, Tort squeezed Kane’s hand lightly as he steered the golf-style cart through a private gate and out of the park proper. He winked at his human as he told him, “Anyone employed by the park has the option of getting a small apartment here. It makes for a fantastic community.”

  Tort noticed out of the corner of his eye that Kane glanced his way from beneath his lashes. He also noticed that his mate’s cheeks sported a lovely pinkish hue. Tort sure hoped it was due to the arousal he scented off the man and not due to encroaching illness.

  “This does seem like a fantastic place to live,” Kane told him, his voice soft. His hands clenched under Tort’s fingers, but he didn’t attempt to pull away. It almost seemed as if he was trying to keep himself from grabbing onto Tort. Clearing his throat, Kane murmured, “How long have you worked here? What do you do? How’d you see what happened?”

  Licking his lips, Tort tried to decide which question to answer first... and how to answer that last one.

  “Why are you holding my hands?” Kane mumbled, the sound coming as if the words were said under his breath. “Why are you helping me at all?”

  Before Tort could come up with a reply—to answer those questions or not—Kane cleared his throat and straightened.

  “You know. I’m not going to sue. What happened to me wasn’t your park’s fault.” Kane’s brows furrowed, and he shrugged. “Well, I guess there could be better fencing between the stadium and the pool, but—” Scoffing, he rolled his eyes. “What are the odds, right?”

  Tort nodded absently. “Pretty wild,” he murmured. “How about I respond by saying that I’m helping you because I want to, and because you need it, not because I think you’re going to sue.” He pressed a button on the dash, then returned his hand to the wheel and drove them through the slowly opening gate. “And I’ll answer the rest of those questions as soon as we’re alone.”

  Seeing the uncertainty in Kane’s expression, Tort growled softly as he stated, “Except that question about me holding your hand.” Tort stopped before his apartment and squeezed Kane’s twined fingers. “I’m holding your hand because I’m attracted to you. I’m trying to show that while attempting to offer you comfort.”

  Chapter Three

  Kane could do little else but nod slowly. For several seconds, he felt certain the other shoe would drop. Perhaps Tort had noticed him looking at him and had brought him all the way out there to give him a beat-down.

  “Ain’t gonna do anything like that,” Tort rumbled softly, touching Kane’s jaw and drawing his attention. “No pain. Only pleasure... if you let me.”

  Turning to the right, Kane swallowed as his eyes widened. Had he said that out loud? Well, shit. When had Tort managed to round the golf cart? Maybe he really was concussed, regardless of what the doctor had said.

  “Sorry,” Kane mumbled. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  “I kinda figured.” Tort chuckled softly, the sound almost kind. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve been a bit traumatized, and I bet you’re cold and uncomfortable.” He moved his hand to Kane’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Why don’t you come in? I promise no harm will come to you.” Tort’s lips widened into a grin, and his gray eyes seemed to sparkle. “Unless you’re into that kind of
thing.”

  Kane couldn’t help but snicker at Tort’s playfulness. Even as he took Tort’s offered hand, he shook his head. “Naw, I’m not into that kind of thing,” he mumbled, heat infusing his cheeks. “You’re really not shitting me, are you?” Kane had to ask. “You’re interested in me?”

  Tort’s expression sobered even as he twined his fingers with Kane’s. “Yeah, Kane. I’m interested in you. Was from the second I saw you.” His smile turned rueful as he added, “Was a little worried your sister was your wife. Glad she’s not.”

  Cocking his head, Kane followed along behind Tort. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again. Kane couldn’t think of what to say to that.

  “So, uh... ” Kane struggled with conversation. He wasn’t a chatty person on a normal day. “What exactly do you do here? Are you security or something?”

  Tort opened his front door and led the way inside his home. “Uh, I’m going to have to answer or something to that,” he responded softly. His brows furrowed as he closed the door behind them. “What I do is more along the lines of... education.”

  Pausing on the welcome rug, Kane glanced down at his soaked clothes. He cleared his throat as he shifted from one sodden shoe to the other. Kane gripped the front of his shirt and pulled it away from his chest, a shiver working through him as the cooler air of the house wrapped around him.

  “The bathroom is this way.” Tort tugged lightly on Kane’s hand, making him realize he still held his hand. “You can strip down in there and dry off while I grab some clothes.”

  Kane nodded absently and took a step, then paused. “You sure you want me to walk on your floors while all wet?”

  Barking a laugh, Tort grinned widely at him and winked. “My floors have seen plenty more water than this... especially since I don’t always bother drying off after a shower or swimming.” As he responded, he swept his gaze over Kane appreciatively. “If you’re worried about my floors, you could always strip down. I wouldn’t mind.”