by Ruby Shae
“Good. You’ll have more time to visit with us. I’d better take Riley’s place before she has a heart attack. Do you want a Polar Kiss?”
“Yes, please,” she smiled.
Ryker got up from the table, disappeared behind the counter, and started making her drink. A Polar Kiss was made up of coffee, white chocolate and peppermint, and it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.
When Riley turned eighteen, Ryker gave in and let her indulge in a cup of java too, and both girls fell in love with the minty heaven in a cup.
Of course, a white chocolate peppermint mocha wasn’t unusual. She could order one in nearly every coffee house she’d ever visited, but nothing tasted as good as home. In her mind, Polar Bliss coffee was the best, and no other brand could compare.
Riley bounded toward her with a coffee in each hand, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Her beautiful friend was the shortest of the Holland siblings, and while all the men were tall and muscular, Riley’s curvy body was an anomaly in the family. Their friendship had formed instantly, but their bond deepened with the ability to understand the pitfalls of being a plus-sized teen in a thin world.
“I think Ryker was afraid you’d take off when he turned his back,” Riley laughed. “I haven’t seen him move so fast behind the counter in years.”
Jillian laughed, too, and took a sip of her coffee. The steaming flavored brew warmed her throat and soothed most of her angst about seeing Reid.
Where was he?
Why hadn’t she seen him yet?
She’d nearly gained enough courage to ask about him when she noticed the scar on the left side of Riley’s mouth. It started where her lips came together and seemed to disappear in her ear. The thought of her friend being in pain tore at her insides, especially because shifters rarely scarred. Scarring only happened when shifting to heal wasn’t possible, and the wound had been left untreated for more than twenty-four hours.
“Don’t ask,” Riley pleaded. “Not here. I’ll tell you everything when we’re alone.”
Jillian nodded and reached across the table to give her friend’s hand a squeeze. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away. Riley had been in pain, and most likely alone, and she hadn’t been around to help.
She was a shitty friend.
“You couldn’t have done anything,” Riley assured her. “Even if you’d been here, you couldn’t have done anything, and our friendship would have been tested. It took awhile for Ryker and Ridge to figure it out, and it was almost too late.”
Jillian didn’t miss the fact that her friend omitted Reid. Why? Had something happened? Was he hurt, too? Or had he finally found his mate and moved away? The suspense was killing her, and luckily, her friend took pity on her.
“He’s still in town, but he moved out, and he hasn’t worked here in five years,” Riley said, sadly. “He’s changed, Jilly, and not in a good way.”
“What do you mean? How has he changed?”
Her friend shook her head.
“I think it’s best if you see for yourself. He owns a bar on the edge of town called The Dirty Bear. We can go tonight if you want.”
“Okay, that sounds good,” Jillian agreed. “I’d really like to see him.”
“You won’t be happy,” Riley warned, “but I think it’s necessary. Where are you staying?”
They made a plan to meet at her motel later that night, and then they talked of other things until the guys made Riley get back to work. She spent another hour talking with Ryker and Ridge before she left Polar Bliss and got back into her rental car.
Riley’s warning had been cryptic and unsettling, but she had to see for herself. Alone. If Reid really had changed, she didn’t want to find out in a bar full of people.
She opened the GPS app on her phone and typed The Dirty Bear in the search bar. It was too early for the bar to be open, but if Reid wasn’t inside the building, maybe one of his staff would be and they could tell her where to find him.
The plan was farfetched, but she didn’t turn back.
She had to try.
***
Reid leaned against the kitchen counter of his apartment, and sipped his coffee. Under the surface, his bear growled and paced, desperate to get out, run, and track down his mate. The fact that he had no clue where to look didn’t phase the animal, and his human side fought hard for control.
It didn’t help that his cock was rock hard, and his skin felt itchy and too tight for his frame. He’d managed to put on a loose, worn pair of jeans, but they were the only clothing he could manage, and he’d had trouble with the zipper. He hadn’t even tried the button.
Thinking about his mate always provoked his bear, and left the man angry, agitated, and full of sexual tension. Though he hated the outcome, he couldn’t force himself to stop.
Had she found someone?
Was she happy?
Did she ever think about him?
If he could, he would push her out of his mind completely, but he knew that would never happen. He’d never marked her, but it didn’t matter. She was bound to him by an invisible, unbreakable bond that could never be broken, and the result left him in his own personal version of hell.
While she was free to find love elsewhere, he wasn’t. Not completely. He could move on, even find someone new, but the immeasurable hole in his soul would never completely close.
A knock on the door pushed his melancholy thoughts aside, and he crossed the room in four strides, determined to see who waited on the other side. His apartment was above the bar, but it was only accessible from the outside. The open entrance meant literally anyone could land on his doorstep, but they rarely did. When he wasn’t at work, most people left him alone, and he preferred it that way.
He opened the door to find the woman from the night before standing on his dirty, faded welcome mat. The old mat suddenly bothered him, and the ridiculous sentiment fueled his anger. Deep inside, the bear growled again, but he ignored the animal.
What the fuck?
He didn’t give a shit about the mat five minutes ago, five days ago, or even five years ago when he’d first moved in, and he certainly didn’t care about it now.
I’m going fucking crazy!
The woman held up both hands, as if making a peace offering, and he got a flash of her overly manicured claws. Though normally he’d refuse immediately, he didn’t like to fuck the same woman twice, he’d been considering her offer until he caught sight of her talons. He wasn’t sure he wanted a repeat of the night before. The scratches on his skin may heal easily, but that didn’t erase the fact that he didn’t enjoy receiving them. He wasn’t into pain.
Maybe I can tie her to the headboard…
“Round two?” she asked, ignoring his glare.
She held a beverage tray in one hand, filled with two steaming cups of coffee and a bag of donuts shoved in between, and the other gripped a bottle of crème liquor.
If he turned her away, he knew his thoughts would continue down the same road, and possibly spiral out of control. Even now, as she stood before him, thoughts of Jillian invaded his mind.
What would Jillian think of his welcome mat?
What kind of mat did she have on her doorstep?
I want to see her doorstep!
Shit!
God, he needed a drink, and he’d take the mediocre sex that came with it. He was willing to do anything to try and stop the direction of his wayward thoughts. Booze and bad sex was better than the persistent, perpetual urge to hunt down his mate and force his claim.
She’d left, and nothing would ever change that.
He stepped back and silently invited the woman in. She smiled triumphantly, and he had a feeling she’d come back knowing about his fuck-only-once rule.
Once inside the spacious apartment, she walked toward the kitchen and he followed her. She still wore the same outfit from the night before, and he shook his head.
Her super short, denim miniskirt, combined with the sheer, black long slee
ve top, and silver, strappy six-inch heels, looked anything but sexy. Not only did she look ridiculous in the light of day, she’d gone to the donut shop and the liquor store dressed in next to nothing. If she bent over, the skirt would reveal her uncovered ass, and the top only had a three-inch panel in front to hide her braless boobs. Granted, she didn’t need a bra, but if he’d seen her on the street, he would have pegged her as a prostitute and kept a wide berth.
For all you know, she is a prostitute, asshole.
It was true, he didn’t know her at all. Her profession was a complete mystery to him, and he wanted to keep it that way. She definitely wasn’t his kind of woman, but then none of them were.
She set the offerings on the counter, and he went straight for the liquor bottle and cracked the seal. She pulled a cup out of the tray and handed it to him, but he ignored her and filled the mug he’d been nursing to the brim. The coffee had already been below the halfway mark, and he only tasted alcohol as he gulped down the new drink.
She chattered about nothing, and made herself at home by pulling open the doors to two of his nearly empty cabinets. She closed them and took a step in his direction.
“Do you have any sugar?” she asked, reaching for another door.
“Nope,” he said, placing his hand flat on the panel inches above hers.
He glared at her as she pulled on the wood anyway, and when the door didn’t budge, she laughed and reached for the liquor.
“Touchy, touchy,” she said, dumping some of her coffee down the drain. She poured a decent amount of liquor into the cup and took a sip. “I guess it’s hard to be a morning person when you’re up all night.”
“It’s hardly morning,” he growled, glancing at the clock.
As usual, he’d slept later than he’d intended, and it was already after two. If they were going to fuck, it needed to happen soon, and then she needed to leave. The bar opened in a few hours, and if she planned on hanging around him all night, she had another thing coming. He didn’t date, and he hated clingy one-night-stands that didn’t have a clue.
Shit!
Maybe fucking her again was a mistake.
His anger flared again, and he tightened his grip on the mug. When he saw his knuckles turn white, he slammed the heavy stoneware on the counter harder than necessary, causing the cooled liquid to splash out of both sides.
“Look—”
“You think you’d be more relaxed after last night,” she drawled, setting her paper cup on the counter next to his. She took a step closer and raked her claw-like nails down his chest. “Luckily, I’m ready for another round.”
His skin reddened and burned, and his bear growled beneath the surface. Reid ignored the animal and kissed the woman hard. She laughed, and when the sound prickled his already sensitive skin, the animal head-butted him. The bear rarely fought back, and the internal pain fueled his fury. He mentally chastised the animal, reminding the creature who was in charge, and left him to pace in the background.
He kissed the woman again, and when her hands encircled his waist, he grabbed one of her wrists and pulled her to the couch. He didn’t want anything close to sensuality, tenderness or love, and he definitely didn’t want her hands roaming on and marking up his skin. The thought of those nails on his dick threatened to make him soft, and he couldn’t risk it.
Coming hard was the only thing that would let him gain back some of his control. His needs were the only ones he cared about, and fucking the woman hard and fast was the only way to get the relief he desired.
Luckily, she seemed to enjoy his caveman approach.
He positioned her arms above her head, and then pushed her shirt up her chest, exposing her tiny breasts. The small mounds were lacking in his opinion, but the perky, hard nipples stood at attention, and he couldn’t deny their beauty.
He continued pushing her shirt up until all of the fabric was past her head, and then he pulled her arms between them and wrapped the flimsy material around her wrists. She squealed in delight, and smiled wickedly as he pulled her skirt over her hips and bunched the material around her waist.
The hair on her mound was trimmed close, but not shaved, and the tiny hairs glistened from the essence spilling from her pussy. Her excitement pushed him forward, and he guided her back until her calves hit the couch and she was forced to sit down.
“Lay down. Arms over your head, and spread your legs.”
As she followed his commands, he unzipped his jeans, pushed them down his legs, and freed his hard, throbbing cock. He took a step toward her, and then pulled his jeans back up.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded.
“Getting a condom,” he growled.
There was no way he was fucking her, or anyone else who wasn’t his mate, without protection. He just couldn’t do it. Since losing his mate, sex without protection was the one thing he’d never faltered on, and he wasn’t about to start now.
He walked into the bedroom, grabbed the condom, and quickly returned to the living room and the woman waiting for him. He ripped open the foil packet, removed the rubber ring, and proceeded to drop it on the floor when the sound of someone knocking echoed around the room.
His bear roared again, and both curiosity and anger drove him across the room. One visitor was rare, but two was a goddamned epidemic.
Something had to be wrong.
He swung open the door, his unfastened pants neglected, and froze.
Jillian.
Chapter Three
Jillian pulled her car into the gravel parking lot of The Dirty Bear, and parked near the front door of the large, grey, rectangular building. For the second time that day, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her frantic heart as she studied the architecture in front of her.
Unlike the charming, cozy, open and welcoming design of Polar Bliss, The Dirty Bear looked like an abandoned warehouse with a sign featuring the bar’s name slapped on the side. Granted, the structure was fairly new and in good condition, but the dreary, almost secretive, style matched Riley’s warnings about Reid.
Had she made a mistake tracking him down without Riley?
The coffee house had offered some sort of protection against seeing him again, but if Reid were inside The Dirty Bear, she’d have to face him alone…or at least on his turf. She’d noticed three cars parked behind the building when she’d arrived, and she hoped one of them belonged to Reid, but what about the other two?
Maybe I should leave…
No! I have to see him!
With her mind made up, she got out of her vehicle and scanned the area. If she hadn’t lived here for nearly three years as a teen, she’d never believe downtown Longmeadow was less than ten minutes away. Though it seemed deserted now, the bar’s location had been well thought out, and she admired Reid’s business sense.
The metal door added to the industrial look of the building, and she pulled on the handle, half-shocked and half-scared when it opened freely.
Overhead lights lit up the large, undivided room, and she quickly surveyed the area before making her presence known. Considering the size of the overall building, the inside was expansive, but it wasn’t remarkable.
Several hi-top tables and chairs were scattered around the floor of the open space, and a jukebox sat in the corner furthest from the door. A full bar that looked too small for the probable crowd occupied about a third of the left wall, and she absently wondered at the odd number of barstools.
There were no pool tables, no darts, no video games, and no booths for patrons to become comfortable. The place had been designed for drinking, and not much else.
“Sorry, we’re closed.”
Jillian gasped and turned toward the bar. She knew the strong, deep voice didn’t belong to Reid, but the ginger-haired man behind the counter had startled her.
“Excuse me,” she said, walking toward the man.
“I said we’re closed,” he said, “you’ll have to come back after six.”
“I’m sorr
y,” she explained. “I wasn’t clear. I’m looking for someone…Reid Holland…do you know where I can find him?”
Jillian stopped at the bar and looked up at the gorgeous man.
Damn!
She’d never been one for redheads, but the man was pure sex-on-a-stick. He was tall, muscular, and his eyes were deep Emerald green. Humans didn’t look that sinful, and she briefly wondered if he was a shifter, too.
“You’re looking for Reid?” he asked, skeptically. “Why?”
“I’m—”
“You know what,” he sighed, “don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Follow the building around back until you find a staircase. Reid’s apartment is at the top.”
“Thank you,” she smiled, and held out her hand. “I’m Jillian, by the way.”
The gesture caught him by surprise, and he steeled his expression as he glanced from her hand to her face. She didn’t know what he was looking for, but he eventually placed his hand in hers.
“Hayden,” he replied curtly, “and you’re welcome.” He didn’t smile, but when he leaned in close, she noticed a light sprinkling of freckles across his nose and she mentally sighed. He was gorgeous, but he wasn’t Reid.
Why can’t I be attracted to him?
She wanted to be, but she just wasn’t.
She let go of his hand, and went in search of the perfect man.
Reid might not belong to her anymore, but he’d set the standard for all the men who’d come after him, and that standard was high. She wasn’t willing to settle for anything less.
She followed Hayden’s directions around the side of the building and climbed the stairs at the back. On the porch, the first thing she noticed was the faded welcome mat, and she faltered. The mat didn’t fit the Reid she remembered, and again she questioned whether or not she was doing the right thing.
There’s only one way to find out…
She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Time seemed to stand still as she waited for the door to open, and when it finally did, she understood Riley’s warning. If she hadn’t known him so well all those years ago, she wouldn’t have recognized him as a Holland.