by Tanya Jolie
Unwilling, Mairead was finding herself won over, and she smiled. That much was true. She had seen it herself in every town she rode through, every inn she bought rooms in.
"I will give you that point," she said.
"I wish you to know," Fintan said, "that I have not been toying with you. I am quite fond of you, and I the nights we have shared together have indeed been blessed, whatever your church may think of them."
It was the answer to the question she had not yet managed to ask him. And yet, what would a dragon wish with a human? She slew monsters. He was, by the estimation of her own kind, just such a creature. In human form, he was vulnerable. Her dagger could be in his throat in the space of a heartbeat, if she wished it to be.
She did not wish it.
“Where is it we go from here, then?”
“That depends, I think, on you.”
For a moment she sat in silence, thinking on it, and then she nodded, and she stood. This time, it was her turn to move bootless around the fire, to stand before him. When he tipped his head down to meet her gaze, she tipped her own up and kissed him, hard as he had kissed her that first night. Her fingers tangled in his hair and drew him down nearer.
When they pulled apart for air, he smiled at her. “A decision I offer my most definite approval for,” he said, low and warm.
She remembered thinking before that Lyndoun had all of the danger and none of the beauty. And yet here before her stood a man who was beauty and danger in one. Perhaps he was not the only such thing in the world. Perhaps she would make it a mission to find out, and if luck smiled on her, she would do it with Fintan at her side.
THE END
Loved by Two Bears
Bear Shifter Menage Romance
Loved by Two Bears
Chapter One
Jenna woke to the sound of something moving at the edges of her camp. For a long moment, she lay still in her sleeping bag, breathing in and out with deliberate slowness, listening to the noise beyond the canvas walls.
The snuffling was not a noise she knew from experience, but she had heard it in recordings often enough. This deep in bear country, it wasn’t a surprise. Jenna wasn’t particularly worried. Her food was all properly packed, her little camp circled with a portable electric fence. Without the smell of food to tempt him, it was unlikely the bear would brave the enclosure, not this close to the feeding grounds along the Pacific coast. There were easier ways to get a meal. Still, Jenna reached for the bear spray tucked into a pocket of her hiking pack. Better safe than sorry.
She’d come to Katmai to celebrate the completion of her Masters in Natural Resources, taking some time out in the Alaskan wilderness before she headed to her first assignment down in Iowa. She’d always been more at home out in the middle of nowhere than sharing space with other people. Here in Katmai, where the crowds that came to watch the bears during the salmon run were dispersing with the change of seasons, she had wide stretches of mountain and forest all to herself and the wildlife. Most visitors didn’t hike out into the backcountry.
The bear was still pacing her perimeter fence. Jenna hadn’t expected him to linger so long. She curled her fingers a little tighter around the bear spray and flicked the safety off. Still wasn’t likely he’d try to come through the fence, but if he did she didn’t fancy her chances of scaring him off without chemical assistance. You didn’t try to move a grizzly. Her heart beat a little faster behind her ribs, but she kept her breathing slow and even, quiet. The sound of the movement in the underbrush was circling around toward her back, and she sat up tense and straight in her sleeping bag, wondering for a moment if it had been such a good idea to go camping in the backcountry of a park with North America’s largest brown bear population without a partner.
But the sounds of the bear were moving away. She heard them receding slowly into the distance, and then it was quiet again, just the little noises of night in the national park lingering in her ears. Jenna took a breath and let it out again in a rush of relief that became a laugh.
It would have really sucked to be bear food before she ever got to wear her ranger’s uniform.
Chapter Two
There was something about waking in a tent that was, Jenna thought, incredibly refreshing. Or maybe it was just something about waking without an alarm clock blaring in your ear and forty minutes to throw yourself together and leave for your next field work assignment. She stretched slowly in the honeyed early morning sunlight slanting through the screen at the tent’s rounded peak, and enjoyed the sounds of the birds calling a wakeup to each other. It was only some minutes later that she reluctantly dragged herself from her sleeping bag to dress and boil water for breakfast.
Jenna Mayfair was not a small woman. She supposed some might have called her big-boned. At 5’9” she couldn’t be described as anything but tall, and she certainly didn’t have the kind of slim-hipped build people called athletic, though her curvaceous frame was solid with muscle from long years of working outdoors. Hers was a body built for physicality, in whatever form that took.
She pulled the tie from the braid that she usually slept in, dragging her heavy fall of brunette hair back into a tail and then curling it around itself, clipping the bun into place. Then she pulled on her jeans and t-shirt, caught up her jacket from where it was slung over her pack. Her heavy-soled hiking boots waited by the door of the tent.
Outside, the weather was a little chilly, clouds rolling in from the west with the promise of later dumping the water they’d picked up over the ocean. The breeze smelled faintly of salt. Jenna made a mental note to bring her rain gear along on the hike as she lit the camp stove, starting up the water that would make oatmeal and coffee.
When breakfast was done, she cleaned up, dumping the water used to scrub food from her bowl well beyond the perimeter of her camp. Then she went back into the tent to pack her day bag for a hike. Most of the supplies she’d need were already there: sunscreen, water bottle, compass, and map. She stuffed her rain gear in as well, and a few granola bars and some dried fruit in an odor proof bag.
Jenna hiked north, the great snowy bulk of the mountains on her left, and on her right—often invisible beyond the trees—the rugged stretch of the Pacific coast. She had no particular destination in mind, only the enjoyment of the land she moved through. As she walked, she hummed to herself, occasionally letting the noise become a song, partly to alert any nearby bears to her coming, and partly because she enjoyed it. There was no one around to hear her rather terrible attempts, and she took full advantage of the situation.
The sound of footsteps and human voices approaching as she started up the ridge of a hill was a surprise, and Jenna quickly stopped singing, choosing instead to whistle as she hiked. It was a fairly easy incline, and in a matter of moments she was standing at the top of the hill, looking down at two men who were coming up the other side. They were chatting easily, if a bit loudly, neither of them wearing packs. Both of them, despite the chill, were wearing t-shirts under unbuttoned flannel.
“Hey there,” the taller man said as they crested the hill, his voice deeper than she would have expected, with a bass rumble that seemed to vibrate under her skin. “Didn’t figure on meeting anyone out this far.”
He smiled, teeth white against sun-browned skin and a neatly trimmed beard. Standing on ground even with Jenna’s own, he had probably six inches on her, and he was built big—broad shoulders, heavy arms. It wasn’t often Jenna met a man so much bigger than she was, and she felt a little rush of heat at the thought of just how easily he’d be able to put her where he wanted her.
“Neither did I,” she said, answering him. “But I’m not entirely adverse to company.”
Not if company looked like him.
“Arthur,” he said, offering a hand that swallowed hers up when she took it.
“Jenna Mayfair.”
She turned her gaze to the other man, who still hadn’t spoken. He was maybe a couple of inches shorter than Arthur, leaner, but still
muscled, regarding her from under a fall of tawny hair with a gaze that seemed to see right down to her bones. For a moment she found herself caught in brown eyes, and then she gave herself a little internal shake and offered her hand.
He took it, his own hand warm, fingers calloused.
“Barrett,” he said by way of introduction. “Nice to meet you.”
Chapter Three
By unspoken mutual agreement, they found themselves pausing there on the hilltop, settling down on a reasonably flat spot to break from their hiking. Jenna set her pack down beside her, pulling a granola bar from the bag inside. Arthur and Barrett waved away her offer to share the rest of her food.
“So, Jenna,” Arthur said when they were all settled. “What brings you to Katmai?”
“Celebrating,” Jenna said. “Just got my Masters in Natural Resources, and I’ve already got a job lined up at Palisades-Kepler in Iowa, so I’m taking a couple weeks to enjoy myself.”
“Congratulations.” There was that grin again, a glance exchanged with Barrett. “You chose a good place to treat yourself.”
Jenna swallowed a bite of granola bar and leaned back against one arm, legs stretched out in front of her. “How long have you two been up here?”
“Oh, we come up here as often as we can. Been out here about a month this time.”
“I guess that explains what you’re doing hiking without a day pack?”
Arthur’s lips curled up in response to her raised eyebrow. “Probably not the best backcountry etiquette, now you mention it, but our camp’s just about a mile that way.” He tipped his head north, back the way they’d come. “And sometimes I want to go places without the camera. Just enjoy it for what it is.”
Jenna wasn’t sure that explained it, but she let the explanation go in favor of a different question. “You’re a photographer?”
He nodded. “It’s what I come up here to do. Barrett just tags along because he’s antisocial.”
His smirk made the teasing obvious. The dark look Barrett gave him was ruined by the barest upward twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“It’s not so much that,” Barrett said, with a conspiratorial wink that looked a lot like flirting to Jenna, “as it is that it’s impossible to get a word in edgewise around Art.”
It was Arthur’s turn to glare. He did it much more convincingly. Jenna laughed.
“So what do you come up here for, Barrett?”
Intent brown eyes settled back on her face.
“I’m a writer. I come up here for inspiration.” He grinned, shooting a look at the other man from the corner of his eye before he looked back at her, smile widening lazily. “Art relentlessly quashes it.”
Arthur reached over and slapped him lightly across the back of the head, and a minute later they were rolling around in the grass, laughing. Jenna rolled her eyes skyward. Men.
They did look good like that, though, muscles rippling under their shirts as they wrestled. She leaned back on her hands and watched them. Barrett, unsurprisingly, seemed to be having a bit of a rougher time than Arthur was, and in a few minutes he was pinned against the ground, panting. For a moment, they lingered there, staring at each other, still huffing out occasional breaths of laughter, and then Arthur rolled off and sat back down. His expression was smug.
“Never going to win, Barrett,” he said as his companion scrambled upright. “I keep telling you that.”
Barrett grinned at Jenna. “He’ll get old and slow first. I’ll have the upper hand one of these days.”
“Watch yourself,” Arthur growled. “Or you won’t live to see me get old and slow.”
“You see?” Barrett said. “He’s a tyrant.”
Arthur gave him a narrow-eyed look, but he was already sliding across the grass to sit nearer to Jenna, close enough that she could feel the warmth from his body.
“If you think she’s going to hide you, I think you’re mistaken.”
The sidelong look Barrett gave her then was definitely flirting.
“Not at all,” he told Arthur. “She’s just better looking than you are.” Another grin directed her way. “And she smells nicer.”
“Flattery,” Jenna said, “will get you everywhere.”
Arthur just stared at Barrett until he laughed—a low, surprisingly husky sound—and dipped his head, looking up through his eyelashes, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. Typical country boy, Jenna thought, hiding a smile of her own. They all did that, she’d discovered, no matter which state they were from.
“So if I flatter you,” Arthur said, turning his gaze from Barrett to Jenna. “Will you let me sit beside you too?”
Somewhere, there had been a shift in the mood. It had happened, imperceptibly, between this moment and the last, and Jenna could feel the change like static charge in the space between them.
She smiled. “The more the merrier.”
Chapter Four
“You are,” Arthur said as he settled down on her other side, “a very beautiful woman.”
Jenna crossed her legs beneath her and looked expectantly at him. “Go on…”
"And you do smell good," Barrett said, his voice closer than it had been. "Really good."
She turned and looked at him, still grinning. "You used that one already."
"He reused what I said about you being beautiful and you let him do it."
"He changed the wording enough. You said I'm better looking than Arthur. He didn't compare me to anyone."
Barrett was quiet a moment, thoughtful.
"I think you have the best legs I've ever seen," Arthur said, shifting a little nearer.
Jenna turned her head to look at him, her smile widening.
"What is this? Compliment Jenna from every side time?"
"That's exactly what it is," Barrett said behind her, and she could hear the pleased amusement in his voice this time. "Especially if flattery will get us where we want to go."
She turned and found him sitting near enough that the heat from his body radiated against her side, his arm almost touching hers.
"And where is that?" she asked, knowing already where it was and more than on board with the situation.
"Oh," Arthur said, leaning in so that she felt the warmth of his breath against the nape of her neck in a way that made her shudder, his body close against hers. "I don't think you need to be told that."
Jenna eased back against his chest, and his arm wrapped around her waist, one big hand settling on her hip.
"No," she agreed. "I guess I don't."
"We have a very large, very comfortable tent," Barrett said, laying a hand on her knee and sliding it slowly upward until Arthur's hand caught it and stilled it.
"And if you would like to go there," Arthur said, "we'll gladly take you, before this goes any further."
"Unless you'd rather stay here," Barrett said.
"You two may be impervious to cold, but there is no way I'm getting naked out here where it's fifty degrees," Jenna said.
Arthur slid away from her, and when he stood he offered her his hand. "We'll go find somewhere warmer, then."
She took the hand and let him help her up, catching her bag on the way and slinging it over her shoulder.
It would have given her mother a fit, to see her heading off with two guys she barely knew, but Jenna wasn't really concerned about her mother's opinion this far away from Seattle. She followed Arthur down the hill and into the trees, Barrett walking just a step behind and to the left of her.
"How much longer will you be here?" she asked as they walked, pitching her voice loud as they had before, to warn the animals away from their path.
"Another two weeks or so," Arthur answered, turning his head slightly so that she could see his profile. "Then we're headed south. Maybe to Yellowstone. Maybe somewhere else. You?"
"Just short of two weeks," Jenna said. "I got in last night. I wish I had longer, but I have to go to work, unfortunately, and my schedule isn't nearly as forgiving as a photographer's.
Or a writer's."
"You know," Barrett said, "people think that, but unless you're writing the kind of stuff that pays thousands at a go, you're writing all the time. And it's not as forgiving as you might think."
Down on the flatland, they moved to walk a little nearer to each other, strolling through the trees more or less side by side, though Arthur still led.
"The tent isn't too much farther," Barrett said. "It's pretty roomy. Not very inconspicuous, we guess, but you can only fit two grown men in one of those little backpacker things for so long."
Jenna's tent—one of those little backpacker things—was barely large enough to fit a single person. She understood the sentiment.
"Well, you can fit two grown men and a grown woman into one of those little tents for even less time," she said. "So I promise not to report you to the ultralight outdoorsman police or anything. Anyway, I don't even think Arthur's shoulders would fit through the door of my tent."
"Arthur's shoulders barely fit through regular doorways," Barrett said, not quite managing a straight face.
Arthur shot a look back at both of them that said he'd quite clearly heard their conversation and didn't appreciate the direction it was going. Jenna looked expressionlessly back at him, but she only managed to hold the laughter until he looked away again, and then it spilled out, Barrett's following. It shouldn't have been that funny, really, she thought as she laughed, but there was a giddy sort of edge to the proceedings. She'd never just decided to have a one night stand with two hot guys before, after all. It was kind of an invigorating experience. And so maybe she was laughing a little more than she should, but she didn't think they would mind.
Barrett didn't seem to. He was smiling at her when the laughter died down and she turned to look at him, and the warmth in his expression made her cheeks heat a little. She looked down. His hand settled on her shoulder, drawing her in nearer, and they walked like that for a while, side by side with their hips bumping lightly against each other at each step. It was a pleasant way to walk, Jenna thought, that slight contact rekindling the anticipation that had settled a little as they left the hilltop.