Bad Blood Bear (Bad Blood Shifters Book 1)

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Bad Blood Bear (Bad Blood Shifters Book 1) Page 13

by Anastasia Wilde


  “And then what?” Lissa asked, looking like she didn’t know whether to be amused or appalled. “Tank can carry me to the truck, if he has to, but I’m just going to be stuck with a passed-out Incredible Hulk Man in the middle of a mall, with people trying to take him to the hospital.”

  “Fucking hell, don’t let them do that,” Flynn said. “Tell them you belong to some religion that doesn’t believe in science, and medical treatment is forbidden.”

  “I’ll tell them he’s the Bear God Incarnate, and cannot be touched by hands other than those of his worshipers,” she said wickedly. “Like me.”

  Tank grinned, and Flynn facepalmed. “I don’t know why I’m letting you do this,” he said. “Worst. Alpha. Ever.”

  He was doing it because Tank had begged him to. He’d spent days sticking close to Lissa, spending time with her, until all he could think about was stripping her naked and pleasuring her body until she was a quivering mass of multiple orgasms, and then plunging his cock into her until she came again.

  He needed to take her on a date. Buy her things. Someplace where making love to her until she clawed his back and screamed his name wasn’t an option.

  Because he didn’t know if his bear could handle that. And he didn’t want to hurt her again by seeming to promise her things he couldn’t give her.

  The mall was the perfect choice—especially when he saw her face. She looked around at the glittering scene, all bright lights and colorful window displays and metallic sheen signs, and her eyes sparkled like a kid on her first trip to the candy store.

  His bear hummed in pleasure. Protect. Provide. Basic instincts, along with “procreate,” which he didn’t want to think about right now, because the very scent of her made him so horny he felt like he had a constant boner.

  Shopping. List. Right.

  They went from store to store, both of them giddy with freedom. Tank bought her jeans and tops and sweaters and pajamas and shoes and boots and a whole crapload of stuff from the Bath and Body store. Every time she protested, he claimed Flynn had okayed the list, and was going to ream Tank out if she didn’t have everything she needed.

  Which was only a little true, because Tank was way exceeding the budget, kicking in his own money because every time they added another bag to the huge assortment he carried, his bear felt a little lighter and happier.

  She balked at the electronics store, saying she didn’t need a cell phone because she didn’t know anyone to call but the crew, and she could do that by shouting from the porch of her tiny house.

  “Flynn’s orders,” Tank said smugly, and it was even true. She flat-out refused the laptop computer, even though he could tell by her eyes how much she wanted it.

  “You have to have it,” he said. “You know we all have to get jobs and contribute to the crew finances, and you need to brush up your web production and marketing skills. I’ll talk to Flynn about signing you up for online classes.”

  “Really?” she said, stroking the sleek computer. “I guess if it’s to get a job…”

  The computer joined the other purchases.

  “Flynn says” worked fine until they got to the store that sold winter coats and boots. They’d already bought her work boots and hiking boots, but when Tank insisted on getting her the bunny boots with the faux fur, along with a hot pink hooded winter jacket with matching faux fur trim she obviously adored, Lissa dug in her heels. “That’s totally impractical. How am I supposed to do construction work in that?”

  “Right,” Tank said. “You need a durable, dark-colored one too.”

  Lissa stopped dead, hands on her hips, her gorgeous blue eyes narrowed. “Tank. Stop. There is no way in hell Flynn okayed all this. There are NO bunny boots on that list.”

  Tank held the list out of her reach. “You don’t know that.”

  The blue gaze grew narrower. “Don’t make me go glowy-eyed on you.”

  Tank gave up. “Okay,” he said. “I might be slightly guilty of budget-busting. My b—” He broke off, glancing around the store at all the people within earshot. “I mean, Jiminy Cricket likes buying you stuff. It makes him happy.”

  Lissa rolled her eyes at the code name. “And who’s going to pay for all that? I don’t want to be in debt to Flynn before I even get a job.”

  “I’m paying,” Tank said. “I wouldn’t run up debt for you without asking.”

  “That’s exactly what you’re doing. Except to you, not to Flynn.”

  He faced her, cupping her face with one hand. This was important. “There’s no debt here, Lissa,” he said. “Not between us.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t like to owe people,” she told him. “Trust me, out on the streets, it never ends well. They say there’s no strings, but they always want something back when you least expect it.”

  Tank didn’t know if he wanted to hug her up tight, or bear-smack all the people who’d made her so wary that she only felt safe relying on herself.

  Instead, he said, “Look, I admit I don’t know how to do this relationship thing. Maybe I’m doing it wrong. But you need the things, and it hurts me to see you making do with inadequate clothes when there’s something I can do about it.”

  He brushed back a strand of her curly hair, the way he loved to do. He felt her lean slightly into his touch. He said softly, “Taking care of you, making sure you’re happy and have everything you need, it settles…Jiminy. Please let me.”

  She dropped her eyes, fiddling with the zipper of the pink jacket. He could see her fighting with herself, taking deep breaths, and he waited her out. He couldn’t force her to trust him.

  Finally, in a low voice, she said, “Okay. But this is it. No more. Promise.”

  “Okay, promise.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her lightly. “Thanks.”

  “Why are you thanking me? You’re the one bankrupting yourself.”

  He just grinned and tweaked her nose. “Because I’m having so much fun, Little Bear.”

  She smacked his hand away, but he’d managed to make her smile. “That’s Little Jiminy to you, Hulk,” she said.

  Chapter 22

  His promise lasted less than ten minutes. He left Lissa to use the men’s room, his bear chafing at even that small separation. When he came out, he didn’t see her at first, and panic flared in his chest.

  Then he caught sight of her a few stores down, looking at the window display. As he approached, he saw she was gazing into the window of an expensive boutique, at the prettiest dress he’d ever seen. It was made of some kind of floaty material in varied shades of blue, one of them deep enough to exactly match her eyes.

  She had her fingertips against the window, and there was yearning on her face. Tank wondered if she’d ever had anything pretty to wear.

  He walked up behind her, very slowly, and slid his hands onto her shoulders. “You would look like a million bucks in that dress.”

  “Don’t even think about it, Jiminy,” she said. “There is no possible excuse for you to buy me that dress. Where would I wear it?”

  “You’d have a place to wear it if I took you to dinner tonight,” he said impulsively. “There’s a steak and lobster place on the way home I’ve always wanted to try.”

  She turned around, her eyes wide. “I know Flynn didn’t okay that.”

  “I’ll call him. I’ll tell him you’ve been a good girl, and I’m taking you on a date as a reward.”

  She smacked him playfully. “I’ve been good? Those darts were for you too, mister. Just saying.”

  “Okay, fine. We’ve both been good, and we deserve a reward. If I can get Flynn to agree to a date, will you let me buy you the dress and take you out?”

  This was probably crazy. Hell, he knew it was. But he suddenly wanted desperately to escort her into a nice restaurant wearing that dress, knowing she felt beautiful.

  She watched him, looking thoughtful.

  Finally she said, “Okay. On two conditions.”

  Uh oh. “What are they?”


  “Not telling.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said. “How can I agree to a condition that I don’t even know what it is?”

  She shrugged, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Do you want to go on this date or not?”

  Tank bit his lip. He suddenly wanted to take her out really, really badly.

  He pulled out his cell phone and called Flynn. He picked up immediately.

  “Tell me everything’s fine.”

  “Everything’s fine,” Tank said. “But it’s getting late, and Lissa’s hungry. I don’t want to take any chances with her… condition… so I think we should stop for a steak on the way home.”

  There was a short silence. “No problems?” Flynn asked. “I’m asking as alpha.”

  “No problems,” Tank said, glad Flynn would hear truth in his voice.

  He heard Flynn’s relieved exhale. “Fine. Don’t be too late. Shit. I sound like somebody’s fucking father.”

  “Bye, Dad,” Tank said, and ended the call. He barely heard Flynn’s “Assho—” before it cut off.

  He looked at Lissa. “We’re good to go.”

  Ten minutes later they walked out of the boutique, Lissa wearing the amazing dress, complete with stockings and high-heeled shoes. Tank was holding the other shopping bags in front of him so that they covered the enormous boner he’d been sporting ever since she walked out of the fitting room in it.

  It hadn’t helped that she’d had a whispered conversation with the saleslady that resulted in her bringing over a wildly sexy bra and panty set made of tiny scraps of blue lace, that made Tank’s face go red and his dick go hard the second he saw it. It disappeared into the fitting room with Lissa and the dress, and now he couldn’t stop picturing her in it.

  “Ready for dinner?” he said. He sure as hell was, though steak wasn’t what he was imagining eating.

  Lissa shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said. “Condition number one.”

  She dragged him, protesting, into the Big and Tall shop a few doors down. She hunted down a salesman like a pro, and then launched into a story about how they were on a romantic spontaneous road trip from Cookeville—no luggage—and that Tank needed something appropriate for dinner in a nice restaurant. Immediately.

  She tilted her head, looking Tank over in a way that did nothing to reduce his boner. “Maybe some charcoal-gray dress pants, and one of these shirts?” She walked over to a rack that had shirts of a muted plum color—a color Tank would never have considered wearing.

  “I was thinking gray or dark green…” he said.

  The salesman chimed in, “Oh, no, the lady is right, this one is perfect with your coloring.”

  “I’m going to look like an eggplant,” he muttered. Lissa elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Conditions,” she whispered. “You promised.”

  “Fine,” he said. He raised his voice. “I need underwear, too,” he told the salesman. “Something sexy.”

  Lissa blushed an adorable red. He grinned at her wickedly. Revenge was sweet.

  Tank took the clothes the salesman picked out into the fitting room and put them on, down to the silky black boxers the salesman had brought. They felt good against his skin, and the scent of Lissa’s arousal when she’d seen them made the embarrassment worthwhile. But his raging hard-on was not helping the fit of his pants.

  “Are you ever coming out?” she called. “I thought it was women who took forever to get dressed.”

  “Sorry,” he called. “I’m having a little trouble getting these pants on.”

  There was silence, and then Lissa gave the wicked little giggle that made him want to drag her in here and bone her right this minute.

  “Not helping,” he called out. More giggles.

  When he finally arranged himself in the least painful way and came out, he was surprised to see Lissa’s eyes widen and her lips part as she looked him over.

  Did she think he looked handsome? He looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He never thought much about the way he looked, but the dark pants were well cut despite the unfortunate bulge, and the plum shirt looked surprisingly not-heinous.

  “Perfect,” the salesman said. “You were right, the plum brings out the green in his eyes.”

  It did? He looked at himself again. Huh. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

  Lissa said, “We’ll take him. Them.” Tank felt a grin spreading across his face.

  He was thinking he could get to enjoy dating.

  The drive to the restaurant was silent, but not in an uncomfortable way. Tank kept giving Lissa sidelong glances, wondering what she was thinking. And what her second condition was, and when she’d spring it on him.

  Strangely, he found himself looking forward to that.

  Tank pulled into the parking lot and turned the engine off. He hesitated a moment, and then asked, “Why’d you make up that story about us being on a romantic road trip?”

  When she didn’t answer, he added, “I’m not mad or anything. I was just wondering.”

  Lissa shrugged, looking down at her clasped hands, picking at her nails. “I don’t know,” she said. “I used to always make up stories like that. Partly for camouflage, I guess, so no one would know who I really was or where I came from. That way no one could track me down, if they were looking.”

  Tank waited, knowing there was more to it. He slid his hand over and covered hers, giving them a little squeeze.

  She went on, “And partly because…I wanted to pretend I was a real person. With a real life. When you’re on the street, you feel invisible. I saw that eat people up, them not feeling like they mattered, so they disappeared into a bottle or a needle, or whatever. I swore that would never happen to me.”

  Tank said in a low voice, “I think you’re a really brave person.”

  Lissa shook her head. “No I’m not,” she said. “All I ever do is hide, blend in. When things get too tough, I move on. I don’t fight for people, like you do. I don’t even fight for myself.”

  Tank shook his head. “You survived. You never stopped believing you mattered, that you were entitled to happiness. No matter how little you had, you never let people take your sense of self away. I wish I’d been that brave.”

  He gave her hands another squeeze and said, “Wait there.”

  He got out of the truck and went around to open her door. He helped her down, setting her gently on her feet.

  “You do matter, Lissa.”

  She put her hands on his chest, and with her fingertip, traced the shape of a heart where his heart beat inside his chest, breathlessly fast.

  “So do you, Big Bear,” she said. “And you’re the bravest bear I’ve ever known.”

  He leaned down and kissed her softly. Then he took her hand in his and walked her into the restaurant.

  Chapter 23

  She mattered.

  And Tank was holding her hand gently, like it was a precious butterfly that he might crush if he held it too hard. Lissa felt like she was in a fairy tale, in a ball dress with a handsome prince beside her.

  Her life wasn’t supposed to be like this, and for once, she didn’t know if she could forget the past and the future and make the most of this. It was hard to live in the moment when the moment was so amazing, and she knew it could never last.

  Tank walked right up to the hostess station and said, “Two, please.”

  The hostess looked up from her little podium. “Do you have a reservation?”

  She looked incredibly elegant, in a slim black dress with simple gold jewelry, her hair in a sleek bun. Yikes, Lissa thought. I never thought I’d be in a restaurant where the employees dress better than me.

  “No,” Tank said, a small frown crossing his forehead.

  The hostess frowned as well. “We normally only take reservations…”

  Tank hesitated, then stepped in closer. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “I surprised my girlfriend with a spontaneous road trip—no luggage, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Lissa. “She really want
ed to eat here, and I just bought her this new dress, and I’m trying to keep the romance alive. Is there any way you could help me out?”

  He slipped her a folded bill, and the hostess smiled up at him, looking mesmerized. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She walked off into the dining area.

  Wow. Not that it was surprising—Tank was a complete hottie. A few more melting looks like that, and the hostess wasn’t the only one who was going to do whatever he asked.

  Lissa slipped her arms around Tank’s huge one and hugged it to her. “This imaginary lost weekend is getting more and more romantic,” she said. “I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

  In a couple of minutes the hostess was back. “Come this way, please.”

  She led them to a secluded table in a corner, and Tank thanked her before moving around to hold Lissa’s chair for her. She felt like a queen.

  He sat down across from her and smiled, his green eyes sparkling in the candlelight. Just seeing him look like that made her feel all quivery in the pit of her stomach.

  Then she opened the menu and saw the prices. Panic hit her.

  “Tank!” she whispered. “We can’t stay here. Look at how much all this costs!”

  He put his menu down, frowning. “It’s fine,” he said. “I knew how much it cost before we came in. Do you want some wine?”

  Lissa flipped to the wine list and gasped again. Nine dollars just for a glass of wine? You could get four bottles of Two-Buck Chuck in Trader Joe’s for less than that. She started doing math in her head.

  “Tank, if we had entrees and wine and dessert, it would be over a hundred dollars just for the two of us!”

  “Don’t forget appetizers,” he said.

  “They cost a week’s worth of tuna and crackers and Ramen,” she informed him.

  Tank stopped, and put his hand over hers.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

  She met his eyes, still feeling like she was going to hyperventilate at the idea of someone spending the equivalent of a month’s worth of food on one meal for the two of them.

 

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