Breakwater: Rick (BBW Bad Boy Space Bear Shifter Romance) (Star Bears Book 2)

by Becca Fanning

  “Shut your face!” she yelled through the phone. I was sure people out on the street could hear her.

  “Yeah, two of them. They’re…they’re amazing, June. I don’t know what else to say,” I said.

  “When are you bringing them home? It’s going to be pretty crowded around here, but I think Ms. Sanders down the hall is moving out. Wouldn’t it be adorable if they moved in there?”

  “June,” I said, then paused. I didn’t know how to say it. Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about it until just now. Ever since I’d gotten here, it had been like being scooped up by a tidal wave and carried forward. I hadn’t considered everything else. “June, I’m not coming back.”

  I heard her make a surprised little noise, something cut short in her throat. Damnit. “June, say something.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Clarissa. I…” she said.

  “Just say it. Say whatever is on your mind,” I said.

  “Well, it’s surprising. It’s not every day that your friend and roommate tell you that they’re going to be on vacation forever. It’s a lot to take in. Why are you doing this?” she said.

  “I met these guys. They’re wonderful. They brought me into their…family. It’s amazing here,” I said.

  “Clarissa, did you join a cult?” she said.

  “What? No!” I said, taking my attention away from the beautiful sunset outside. “I did not join a cult. Jesus, June.”

  “Did they make you sign something? Did they take your passport? They’re there right now, aren’t they? Watching this conversation?” she said, her voice getting quieter with each word.

  “June, I need you to calm down. I did not join a cult. I’m not anyone’s hostage. I’m just in love,” I said.

  “What are you going to do for work?” she said.

  “I kind of have a job, I guess? It’s more of a position. It’s just different here, that’s the best way I can put it,” I said.

  “You’ve got responsibilities here, Clarissa. Are you dropping out of college? Are you leaving me up shit creek without half the rent?” She sighed. “Clarissa, are you sure this isn’t just a rebound? You were at your grandmother’s funeral and all your family asked you about your ex.”

  “No, that’s not what this is,” I said. “It’s…fuck June, it’s complicated, alright?”

  “What if things don’t work out with these guys? You just met them. Isn’t it crazy to change your whole life around because of someone you met less than a month ago?” she said.

  That horrible sinking feeling in my stomach came back. That sour pit, that bitter core. That was the thing about jumping in without thinking: it was great until you stopped to consider what you were doing. Then it all threatened to come crashing down.

  “Clarissa? Clarissa?” she said.

  “I have to go June. I’m sorry if I let you down.” I ended the call. I heard a commotion behind me as Sven and Helmut came into the hallway.

  “We’re done here,” Helmut said. His words were hard but his eyes showed concern when he saw me.

  “Good,” I said, following he and Sven out of the building.

  I slammed the door behind me, Clarissa and Sven getting into the truck moments later. I tried to cool my nerves, but my knuckles were white on the steering wheel. My mind ran through what the Dremora lawyers had said.

  “They were lying,” Sven said, looking at me.

  “Who was lying? About what?” Clarissa said from the back seat.

  “I don’t think they were. I don’t think they’re in the business of lying,” I said. I turned to face Clarissa. “The lawyers didn’t make us an offer in the end. They made a threat.”

  “I think our Alpha is being dramatic,” Sven said.

  “They knew every inch of our land. How did they get that information? My uncle spent years at the surveyor’s office in Oslo to make the maps of our land wrong, to hide our groves and sacred woods,” I said.

  “Humans have been suspicious of our kind for a long time,” Sven said. “A few hundred years ago, things were less civilized. Even today, some groups don’t think we should have all the same rights as humans. When they find out our community has something valuable, they think it’s easy to take it.”

  “I’d like to see them try!” I said, my fingernails extending, biting into the leather of the steering wheel. It was a destructive, childish thing to do, but it felt satisfying.

  “Peace, Helmut,” Clarissa said, reaching forward to put her hand on my shoulder. “I take it you turned down their offer?”

  “Yeah,” I said. I met Sven’s gaze. Urging him to be quiet for once. Clarissa didn’t need to know about me almost hitting that lawyer. How did they know? What else are they willing to do?

  “I’m starving,” Sven said.

  Shit. I’d totally forgotten about the dinner date. My mind had been completely on this deal. Without reservations, on a Friday night? I steeled myself for Clarissa’s disappointment. “Clarissa, I-“

  “I hope you like Italian food,” Sven said, sharing a wink with me. “Coastal Italian, of course. Not that upper peninsula dreck. Reservations weren’t easy to get, but I can be quite a charmer on the phone.”

  “Oh, sounds good,” she said. She’d forgotten about it to. She fidgeted with her hair. Something was wrong.

  —

  Panne was the classiest Italian restaurant in Bergen. I knew Sven must’ve really buttered up the maitre’d on the phone. These reservations were not easy to come by. The waiter handed us our menus and left us to consider our options.

  “So what’s good here?” Clarissa asked. She still looked distracted. This date was her idea.

  “Everything,” Sven said, licking his lips as his eyes ran down the menu.

  “Would you like to talk about what’s wrong, Clarissa?” I said.

  “Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine,” she said, closing her menu. “I’m going to have the penne al’arabiatta.”

  “Good choice, but too easy. You’ve got to have guts, Clarissa. Black pasta for me,” Sven said, smacking his lips.

  “What makes it black?” she said.

  “Squid ink,” Sven said.

  “Eww,” Clarissa said. “I’ll stick with my tomato based sauce, thank you very much. And you, Helmut?”

  I glanced at the menu, realizing I wasn’t hungry at all. “Probably something light. A salad.”

  Clarissa’s brow furrowed, like I’d just put a puzzle down in front of her. “Are you getting a salad for some particular reason?”

  “Yes, because I’m not very hungry,” I said.

  “Or are you trying to tell me something?” she said, sucking her teeth.

  “If I wanted to tell you something, I would just tell you. I wouldn’t try to tell you,” I said.

  Clarissa looked at me and shook her head slowly. “Why can’t we just come out and have a nice evening. I know today was tough, but can’t we take some time just for us?”

  “You’re right,” I said.

  She smiled.

  The waiter walked back, taking out orders with exaggerated flourish designed to milk tourists. Once he saw our eyes, he eased up on the act. The restaurant was filling to capacity. Lots of couples, both young and old. We ate in peace, enjoying our meals.

  We stepped out of the restaurant, our bellies full but my mind was elsewhere. It was so hard to reconcile this new life, these wonderful men, and my responsibilities and life back in America. I pulled the truck door open and hopped inside.

  Helmut got into the driver’s seat.

  Sven stood out on the sidewalk. “The night is still young, you two. The Canopy is having an electronica night. Let’s go dance!” he said, popping and locking right there next to the truck.

  I laughed heartily, the first time that day. Oh, I had to see more of this. “Let’s go dance,” I said to Helmut.

  “As my Grace wishes,” he said, grinning.

  We hopped out of the truck and followed Sven as he sauntered down the boardwalk. At
night the city of Bergen changes from business to pleasure. Coffee shops open their windows, letting passersby smell the alluring marijuana strains for sale that day. The bars and nightclubs put out their red ropes, and the young and pretty come out to party.

  We turned down a dark alley. Tall brick buildings rose up on each side, graffiti tattoos painted on every few meters.

  “Are you sure there’s a nightclub back here?” I said, slinking up to stand close to my men.

  “I…I think so. Though Helmut can attest that I’m the worst with directions. Never had a sense for it,” Sven said, shrugging as he walked.

  “There was the time that we accidentally invaded Finland,” Helmut said. “We were both in the Norwegian Home Guard, doing an exercise up near Anarjokka. Our commander told us to head due west…”

  “And that’s enough of that story,” Sven said.

  I couldn’t see his face, but I could sense his body increasing in temperature. He was blushing!

  “…Now I remember I was pretty sure which way west was, but you had a different idea, didn’t you Sven?” Helmut said, his grin threatening to split his face in half.

  “And here we are!” Sven said, relief in his voice.

  Behind a dumpster was a plain black steel door. The brick building could have been a meat packing plant, a textile factory or maybe a leather tannery. There wasn’t a sign, an address or anything. At least, not a sign a human could detect.

  The Shifter part of me could sense something. A scent. A marker, clear as day. There were Shifters here. A lot of Shifters. The smell was both an invitation and a warning.

  “A Shifter nightclub?” I said.

  “A place more in touch with our sensibilities,” Sven said.

  “You’re not afraid, are you? It’s important you not be afraid in this kind of place,” Helmut said. “Things can get out of hand.”

  “The only thing I’m afraid of is Sven’s dancing,” I said. I reached for the handle and pulled the door open. I was getting myself pumped. As soon as I opened the door I felt deep thrums of bass flow through me from somewhere down below.

  A dimly lit stairway went down into the darkness. The three of us descended, and down at the bottom I could see light coming from around a corner. We got to the bottom and three Shifters stood in front of another steel door. One was comically shorter than the other two, and he was the one who spoke.

  “Helmut. Sven,” he said, looking us over. “Is this your new Grace?”

  “Yes, Donno. Clarissa, meet the,” Helmut said. “He and his brothers here own The Canopy.”

  “I can’t wait to see it,” I said.

  “Soon enough, lass. But first, the unpleasantries.” He snapped his fingers and his two brothers began patting Helmut and Sven down.

  “Be my guest, Lugo,” Sven told the man who was inches from his face.

  Helmut just held his arms out with a bored expression on his face.

  Lugo finished with Sven and turned towards me. Sven’s big hand landed on his shoulder and he spun around.

  “I think the lady’s ok,” Sven said, inching closer to Lugo.

  Lugo’s eyes flicked to Donno, who gave a little nod. The tension dissipated and the third brother held the door open for us. A thunderous happy hardcore track hit us, the bass reverberating in my chest.

  “Have a great time,” Donno said.

  We entered into what must have been an underground parking garage. A massive open space, with huge concrete support columns interspersed. It was somewhere between nightclub and illegal warehouse rave.

  And there were Shifters everywhere. Clusters of golden eyes looked at us as we walked through and made our way to the bar. The damp concrete trapped all the scents down here, the air a heady mix of sexual tension, excitement and bravado.

  “Busy night,” Helmut said, eyeing the different clusters of Shifters. His eyes landed on one in particular. “Shit.”

  I looked over and saw a handful of women, big hair and horrible spray on tans. They were almost a hundred feet from us, but I could sense the menace. “Who are they?”

  “Sore losers. Ignore them,” Sven said as we reached the bar. “Olmen, you ugly son of a bitch,” he called out to the bartender as they clasped forearms.

  “Sven, you stinky bastard! How have you been? It’s been a while. Helmut, it’s always a pleasure to see you,” he said, looking past them at me. “And who is this forest vixen you’ve brought? My dear, you could do so much better than your present company.”

  “I’m Clarissa,” I said, giggling like a schoolgirl. “It’s nice to meet you Olmen.”

  “Quite a few Packs here tonight,” Helmut said.

  Olmen was putting down napkins for our drinks, and he paused a second at that. “Are there? What can I get you?”

  “Bombay martini. Dirty,” Sven said, knocking the bar with his fist in tune to the music.

  “Old fashioned,” Helmut said. “Why are so many Packs here, Olmen?”

  “And for the lady?” Olmen said, not looking at Helmut.

  “I’ll take a Vodka Redbull,” I said. If I was going to dance, I’d need my dancing fuel. I’d never admit it out loud, but I was sad when they banned Four Loko.

  I took my drink in hand and took a long sip. The vodka was top shelf and went down smooth, hidden behind the rancid taste of the Redbull. “Yow!” I hollered, sauntering towards the dance floor.

  I was lost in a throng of sweaty nubile bodies. The DJ was spinning some deep drop dubstep, and the crowd was into it. I closed my eyes and swayed with the beat, letting my hips lead the way. I could smell the truth of the moment, the pre-mating ritual that was the dance. The muskiness of male excitement and female lubrication. I danced harder, spinning wildly.

  I collided with a big strong body. My eyes closed, I smelled this man and smiled.

  Helmut pressed in close, his hands encompassing my waist as he danced with me. He snuck playful nips against my ear and neck. I could hear his pulse quicken, his excitement growing.

  I looped my arms around his neck, my body pressed flat against him. My nipples grew hard, jabbing into his chest. I spun around, arching my back and grinding my ass against his crotch. I opened my eyes, reveling in the spectacle. I wanted to show the whole world that this was my man, my Alpha.

  A gaggle of Shifter women walked up. It was the same orange faced harpies from earlier. Their hairspray was overwhelming, and they were all wearing obnoxiously loud neon leggings. One of them walked up to Helmut and I with a smirk on her face. “It’s nice to see you again Helmut.”

  “What do you want, Gini?” Helmut said, his voice all business.

  “Oh, just wanted to see for myself if the rumors were true,” she said as she looked me in the eyes. “Sadly, they are.”

  “Excuse me?” I said, my arms releasing Helmut. “What’s your problem? I have no idea who you are.”

  Helmut leaned forward and whispered, “It’s better if you don’t get involved, Clarissa,” he said.

  “I’m already fucking involved,” I said, the vodka swirling around in my head, clouding my better judgment. “Now who the hell is this?”