“Doc, you’re so nice. I will always treasure this pleasant journey we shared,” she said.
“You, woman, are a pain in the ass,” Doc said.
She laughed. “So I’ve been told.”
“You just ignore?” Doc asked.
“Usually it’s when I offer my advice to hardheaded…men. And if you don’t want my advice, don’t ask.” She slung the duffle bag onto her shoulder. “Though, I concede, you asking for my help was really more implied.”
Doc shook his head, then turned to Bear.
“As I said, Bear,” Doc told him clearly finished talking to her, “have fun. D. or Harlen will call later to make sure she made it and all is well. Don’t lose her. Don’t hurt her. Don’t kill her, though the provocation might be great.” Doc opened the door to his truck. “Oh, and don’t make her cry. D.’s orders, or he’ll come out here and kick your ass.”
Bear raked a hand over his face.
What just happened?
She dropped her duffle and strode over to the door of the truck. She caught Doc before he climbed in. “Thank you, Doc, for driving me all this way and keeping me safe. And sorry if I was a pain in your ass.” She gave him a hug and patted his back. “Just remember to be nice, bring her a random gift, some small something, and she’ll be putty in your hands. And jewelry doesn’t count.”
“I look like a jewelry guy, Pita?” Doc asked.
“I’ve told you my name isn’t Pita.”
“Pain in the ass. Yes, it is.”
Her laugh made Bear straighten. Soft, husky, it immediately made him think of bedrooms, countertops, a shower stall. Somewhere she could wrap those long, long legs around him. Bear watched her. And remembered the times she’d done just that.
“Thanks, again, Doc,” she said. “Please tell the guys thanks as well.”
“Anytime. And try to rest. You don’t sleep for shit.”
“Getting killed in my dreams rather curbs that.”
Doc grunted. “Point is, you sleep, you’re rested. You’re rested, you’re aware. You get worn out, you’ll miss something.”
“He’ll find me. You know he will.”
“You don’t worry about that piece of shit.” Doc tapped the side of her head with a forefinger. Then he looked over to Bear. “Seriously, watch out for her. Watch out for strangers looking for her. They want her bad.”
“Why?”
Doc opened his mouth, looked down, and shook his head. “I’ll let her tell you. Y’all have fun!” Doc climbed in, backed up, and took off.
Both Bear and the woman simply stared off after the red taillights.
Baxter barked once. She reached down, let the dog smell her hand, and then rubbed his mostly black, shaggy head. Baxter sat at her feet and let her pet him. Of course he did.
What the hell was Bear supposed to do with her?
He turned and walked inside, then stopped and took the duffle from her. “Come on.”
“Well, hello to you too, Lee. Been a long time. Didn’t know they’d bring me here.”
“Bear.”
“Bear? Still? Seriously?”
He didn’t answer, only walked up the stone walkway and into the house. He stood waiting for her. She had some rainbow woven thing slung over her shoulder. When she stood in the light, her eyes, straight on bright blue and slightly titled up at the corners, stared up at him. Her lips were wide and plump, her cheekbones high. She was beautiful. A pretty face, long legs, long hair, and that mouth.
Yeah, he’d probably been too long without a woman. And this one had trouble written all over her.
Package?
He’d be talking to Harlen as soon as he had her settled.
Chapter Three
Rai followed Bear into the house, noticing the porch that, were it not so cold, she would love to sit out on. One look at his face, and she knew it wasn’t going to happen. Why did it have to be him? What were the guys thinking?
“This wasn’t my idea,” she said, following him over the threshold and into an entryway that soared up to the overlooking loft. Pine everywhere, mountain motif running rampant. At least there was a cool couch with large multicolored throw pillows. Wonder who picked those out.
“Then whose idea was this? And what the hell are you doing here?”
“I have no idea.” She shrugged and set her bag on a chair beside the entry where several boots were at attention against the grate of the heater.
“So Doc just decided, what the hell, then kidnapped you, brought you here, and dumped you on my doorstep?” He walked deeper into the house.
She followed him down a short hallway and into the kitchen. Damn, what a kitchen. Stainless steel gleamed from top-of-the-line appliances, contrasting with the dark granite countertops and redwood cabinets. Nice.
“Did you build this?”
He grunted.
What did that mean? Grunts. She’d always had a hard time understanding Gruntaguese. “I’d forgotten you did that. All the freaking time.”
“Memory had blurred on how much you talk too.”
“I don’t talk a lot.”
He grunted again. Probably just to irritate her. He refilled a mug of coffee—a mug she recognized because she’d given it to him. She wondered if he remembered that or not. Probably not, knowing him. It was missing the handle, but he used it anyway. Not surprising. He never wasted.
“Want some? I got coffee and maybe some herbal tea from a friend, but that’s about it.”
“You got a beer?”
He nodded to the fridge. She waited a beat, then helped herself. Mexican beer. Some things never changed. He probably wouldn’t have limes. That, she knew from many a rant, took too much time. He liked them, but he wasn’t about to stand around and cut some damn citrus fruit.
When they’d gone out—what? Three years ago?—he’d order one dressed. Lemon or lime, usually lime, and the neck had been rolled in salt.
She grabbed a bottle.
“Opener’s on the side of the island.”
She turned around, and, sure enough, there was an opener with US Army scrolled across the top. One small thing that seemed like old times. He’d had that opener at his apartment in Seattle.
“Hungry?”
She shook her head.
“When did ya eat?”
She shrugged and took a long drink. “Dunno. Some greasy spoon for breakfast.”
He sighed and set his mug down, then went and pulled another door open. The pantry. “Soup or potato? I have some shit in the freezer I could toss into the oven.”
“I don’t want anything.”
He leveled a look at her. “That wasn’t an option. What do you want?”
“Got any peanut butter?”
He sighed again, grabbed a jar, and then went to the fridge and grabbed the strawberry jelly. She grinned just as he turned back around. “You think this is funny?”
“This?”
“You? Here? At nearly midnight?”
“Nope.” She took another drink. “Haven’t laughed in a while. What can I say?”
He pulled two pieces of whole wheat bread out and popped them in the toaster. When the sandwich was ready, he placed it in front of her. “That’s just a sad meal.”
“I said I was fine. You’re the one that pushed.”
She picked it up and bit into the perfectly toasted bread, the salt of the peanut butter melting into the sugary sweetness of strawberry. She closed her eyes and hummed.
He gave her few minutes while he went through mail that was stacked ever so neatly on one of the countertops near the back door. Three piles. Important. Look-at-later. Trash. And she’d bet—yep. Trash went into the shredder, which someone had cleverly hidden in a deep drawer that looked more like a cabinet door. Mr. Always Organized.
He caught her smile. “What?”
“You know what I always liked about you, Lee?”
“Bear.”
She shrugged. “Your buds called you Bear; you let me call you Lee. You’re Lee to me.”
“Unless you get pissed, and then it’s worse.”
“Leo is a solid name. Leonides is a great name. Never knew what you had against it.”
“With the name you have, I can understand that.”
“We’re not talking about my name.”
“We could be.” He leaned across from her on the other side of the bar. His arms crossed on the granite as he leaned closer. “So tell me, Rainbow, what the fuck trouble did you find yourself in now?”
“I really hate that name.”
“I could call you Rainbow Bright, or just RB.” He grinned, and his dimple winked at her.
She’d always been a sucker for that damned dimple, though it wasn’t a happy smile. It was more teasing, and sometimes, when he smiled at people, it was scary. Maybe it was the scar across his face where a blast of something grooved and pock-marked a face that would have otherwise been beautiful. He kept his head bald, his goatee trimmed, and his personality brusque. Damn if it didn’t work for him.
“Scars work for you. Did I ever tell you that?”
He grunted again and took a sip of coffee.
“If you were still perfect, you’d be too pretty for any woman. This way, you’re rugged, handsome. Manly.”
“You finished?”
“Almost.” She shrugged, took another bite, and added, “Maybe.”
He let that go for a minute, then zeroed back in.
“So, Rai, what’s new with you?”
“Not much.”
“You still with that law firm, or did you get a new job? Get the lawyer plaque yet?”
She finished off the sandwich, ignoring all the questions.
“Want another?”
She shook her head and took her time folding the napkin. “I’m good, thanks, though. And thanks for letting me stay here tonight. I promise to get out of your hair in the morning.”
“Really? How do you plan to do that? I didn’t see a car left with you.”
She frowned. “You could take me.”
“We’ll see. First you get to level with me.”
He watched her with those green eyes. Wicked green eyes that could see so deeply into her, she’d often blurted out whatever was on her mind. Unfair, those eyes.
“Why is it always your way? Did you ever ask yourself that?” she asked him, leaning up on her elbows.
He arched a brow. He might be bald, but, damn, the man was fanatical about shaving his head. Said he cut down on shampoo and getting ready. She couldn’t argue the point. He could shower and be dressed and ready to go in less than ten minutes.
And he could wait her out. He didn’t fight. Didn’t get really angry at the little things. Big, important stuff, yeah, he could get pissed. But he’d never yelled at her, except that one night when it had ended. He’d called her a liar. One thing he could never stand.
He was as straight as they came.
A good guy. And damn if she hadn’t missed him.
She sighed and raked a hand through her hair. “Fine. I was seeing a guy. Not as nice as you, though he was charming as hell at first.” She shrugged. “He’s into…things.”
“Things?”
“I don’t know. Has a temper, and when he turned it on me, I said fuck you and walked out.”
He stilled. He was already still, but even the air around him seemed to freeze. “He put his hands on you?”
“Anyway, haven’t really seen or heard from him. Well, he called a couple of times, came by the bar, but D. wouldn’t let him in and had one of the bouncers walk me out every night. Or one of Harlen’s boys.”
“Rai.”
“I’ll put up with a lot of shit.” She waved a hand at him. “Some guy running me through the coals for my decisions and life choices that didn’t hurt a soul, I might add, except for my own pride. But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, and I’m not ashamed of that.”
“I never wanted you to be,” he said quietly, his eyes on her.
“However, yeah, one night, he was drunk, and I asked…” She tried to think back. They’d been arguing about a dinner he wanted her to attend with him, and she had work, so she was saying she couldn’t go. She asked something, and for the life of her couldn’t remember what. “Anyway, I asked a question he didn’t like, and I felt the back of his hand.” She shrugged. “I left.”
“You tell anyone?”
“Oh, D. knew. He saw the shiner the next day. Wanted to send the boys out.” She shook her head again. “I told him to stay out of it, or he could find a new bartender.”
“You’re tending bar now too?”
“That’s all I do. Pour drinks, make drinks, watch over the new girls. There comes a time one should step off the stage. New blood, new college girls need to pay for those student loans just like countless others before them. And there are worse things than stripping.”
He took in a deep breath. “For what it’s worth, the stripping never bothered me.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It was the fact you lied about what you did.”
She hopped off the stool and pointed at him. “I never lied. I did work at the firm.”
“But that wasn’t all you did. What the hell do you think it felt like to walk in and see you on that stage? Hell, all the guys knew but me.”
She shrugged. “I thought you knew. They all did. How was I supposed to know you didn’t know? You asked what I did, I told you I worked at the firm and at a bar.”
“Splitting hairs.”
“I do, in fact, still work at both. I just teach the new girls how to dance. If they need someone to fill in, I might do it, if I can get D. to agree to a higher price than the last time.”
“What?”
“It’s sort of a game.”
His brows drew together.
“See, you don’t like what I do.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it. “Fine. You danced, stripped topless for frat boys, truckers, and bikers, and whoever else showed up at D.’s.”
“And?”
He leaned back against the island. “I didn’t like the idea of you working at a bar in that area but thought D.’s was fine. Then to see you on the stage was a shock. What do you want me to say? A group of boys was cheering, and some asshole had his hand on your ass.”
“Which you broke.”
“So?”
“And started a freaking fight. Now, D. doesn’t want any of his girls to date.”
“And yet you ended up with Mr. Temper.”
“Well, I was mostly a bartender or waitstaff at that point. He doesn’t care if we have boyfriends, but you only, and I quote, ‘solidify the reason none of my girls should be in a serious relationship, and if they are, the damned boyfriend, girlfriend, fiancé, husband, or wife isn’t allowed on dancing night.’”
Chapter Four
Bear grinned. “I made a rule.”
Her blue eyes narrowed on him. “You’re an ass.”
“And?”
She sighed and made to leave. He reached out and wrapped his hand around her bicep, stopping her. Her muscle flexed beneath his fingers. “What?”
“That still doesn’t tell me why you’re here. He’s looking for you? Wouldn’t leave you alone?” he asked, not liking either scenario.
“Oh, he’s looking for me.” She wilted, raked a hand through her hair, and started to pace. “I was so into him. The money, the fast car, the shiny things. I’d been pulling back on my hours at D.’s and putting more into the firm. I was fine with that. I’m still not finished with law school, but that’s okay. I’ll get there eventually. Anyway, I was working at the firm, and he’s a friend of one of the partners. One day, he asked me out.” She rubbed the grooves that appeared between her brows. “I asked if there would be a problem if I saw him. I didn’t know if he was a client of my boss or not. No one cared. So I did. Seemed great. Awesome guy. Charming. Fast car. Great house. Investments, imports and exports, he said. He’d bring me little presents that, at first, were kind of fun.”
“Like what?” he asked, not liking the douche bag. At. All.
“Jewelry, mostly. Simple at first. A chain, a bracelet—silver, but later, it was more. More bling, more froufrou than me. And I guess he noticed I didn’t like them. We fought. Often.”
“Why’d you stay with him?”
She stopped pacing and looked at him, just looked. “He was the first guy I was serious about after you. He just seemed to accept me.”
“He knew about D.’s.”
She nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t seem to care at all. Not at first. But then he asked me to move in. The lease was up on my apartment, and I figured, why not. When it was good, when he was happy, we were great.”
He really didn’t like that. “One person’s happiness is up to that person.”
“Yeah, I know. Briley cautioned me; she’s Harlen’s girl. Anyway, I liked her, and we became friends. I’d already started to look for my own place, because Niall’s moods were always all over the place. Never knew if he was going to blow or what, or over what.”
“Did he use?
She shrugged. “Honestly, I think so now. Then, I just thought he was moody. He didn’t tweak like a meth head or crack user, that I could see. Wasn’t high on pot, didn’t really like it, he said.”
“Heroin?”
She shrugged again. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, we lived together for a few months, but honestly, I never saw that.”
She went quiet. Thunder rumbled down the valley and against the mountains, making her jump.
“He’ll find me,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“I saw,” she whispered.
“Saw what?” he asked calmly, not wanting to scare her.
She blinked and then looked at him with shadowed eyes. “Saw him kill a man.”
For a minute, the only sound was the tick of the clock, the crackle of the fire, and the storm echoing in the mountains.
“You’re sure?”
“Well, I could be wrong, but I think the blood spatter from the back of the guy’s head blowing off might have given it away.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “When was this?”
She swallowed and looked out the window. “Last night? No, night before last. I went to D.’s, then to Harlen’s, and he set me up above his shop with a few of the guys watching over me. Doc and I took off, and then, a day—day and half?—what-the-hell-ever later, I’m here.”
Taming the Alpha Page 68