by T. S. Joyce
“So,” she said, hopping another pile of logs to catch up with Denison, “why is Tagan afraid of lightning?”
“He and Kellen and his momma, Meredith, used to live in this little house on the outskirts of Saratoga. It was struck by lightning three times and started burning with them sleeping inside of it.”
She jerked her gaze up toward the landing. Thank God they’d all made it out. The thought of Kellen burning in his bed was a scene her overactive imagination would likely latch onto for nightmare time when she went to sleep tonight. “Three times? How did they know?”
“An investigator for their insurance company came out because the gas lines were faulty and had gone up like a blowtorch inside the walls. Apparently, they can GPS lightning strikes, and their house was definitely hit three separate times, at least thirty seconds apart. The local news station came out and did a story on them and everything. Their insurance company won a lot of money by suing the company who made the gas lines. It wasn’t the first house that had burned because of the faulty lines, and some of the other victims weren’t as lucky as Tagan, Kellen, and Meredith. Anyway, the whole lightning never strikes the same place twice belief is bullshit. It’s rare, but it happens, and Tagan doesn’t like us out here exposed and under all this metal equipment and cables during a storm like this. He’s a good alpha. A good leader.”
“Is Kellen scared of lightning, too?” she asked, taking Denison’s offered hand as he helped her up a muddy embankment.
“Nah. Tagan’s not afraid of much. Kellen’s afraid of less. He went through way worse when he was a cub. Lightning and burning houses were puppies and kitties compared to what he saw—” Denison drew up short and ran his oversize hand over his face, then flung water from his fingertips. “Shit.” Denison turned and shook his head at her. “It’s like a talent you have, drawing people into a conversation like that. You have an instinct for when someone isn’t paying attention to what they’re saying. No more spilling secrets. If Kellen wants you to know anything about what makes him tick, he’s going to have to be the one who enlightens you.” Water dripped in a constant stream from his hard hat, and another lightning strike nearby lit up his face. Denison narrowed his dove-colored eyes. “I wouldn’t mind bargaining, though. A secret for a secret. What kind of shifter are you?”
This was the most fun game of all. She’d been driving Denison and the boys nuts, and it was the only defense she had against their constant ribbing. She didn’t mind the half-hearted insults and nicknames she’d been accumulating from the Ashe crew, but she could sure as hell drive them bat-guano crazy by keeping her animal side to herself. She was pretty sure Kellen and Tagan knew exactly what she was, but they didn’t seem inclined to spill the beans either, and sometimes they smiled when she avoided answering, as if they enjoyed the game. And she lived and breathed for that grin on Kellen’s face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She climbed past him, giggling as Denison cursed under his breath.
“Look, we have a bet going on. Whoever gets you to Change takes the pot. The winner will make a few hundred bucks. I’ll go halfsies with you if you tell me.”
“Denny, Denny, Denny.” She clicked her tongue behind her teeth and held onto a slick tree root as she looked back over her shoulder at him. “You cheating little cheatery cheater.”
“Damn straight. It’s my turn to buy the beer for the crew this week. I need that money.”
“Sorry ’bout your bad luck,” she called, climbing higher.
“Dammit, Skyler. It’s beer for you, too, you know.”
“I like the boxed wine Kellen gives me.”
So Kellen had survived a house fire, one that according to Denison didn’t even scathe him, and he’d gone through rough times when he was a cub. She lived for tidbits of information on Kellen’s past like this. He shared almost nothing, clamming up every time she mentioned anything to do with her younger years to try and draw him out. In fact, he clammed up around her about almost anything lately. The man was utterly confusing. He stared at her in a constant fashion, but when she tried to connect, he shut down. The past week and a half had been the best and most revealing time of her life. It had also been the most confusing, thanks to Kellen’s apparent regret over their little naked party last week. She tried not to let it hurt her. He’d told her he didn’t want a mate from the beginning, but inside, she’d been growing fonder of him by the day. Now, she tiptoed the edge of an affection that was downright terrifying because it seemed the man she’d chosen didn’t choose her back.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, Kellen appeared through the rain, leaning against the side of a giant crane-like machine called a processor that stripped entire logs in seconds.
“Payday,” Tagan said from right beside her. He handed her an envelope. “You’re now a wage-earning tax-payer. Good job, rookie. You earned this.”
She stared at the envelope, utterly shocked. She hadn’t thought about pay. As strange as that sounded, she really had seen the job as a way to earn her place in 1010 and with her friends.
“Keep it dry, will you?” Tagan said with a grin, then jogged after his crew toward the parked trucks in the makeshift dirt lot across the road from the landing.
“Right,” she murmured, tucking the paycheck into the inner pocket of her weatherproof jacket.
When she looked up, Kellen was still standing there in the rain, watching her with intense eyes. His lips were set in a thin line, but when a smile of joy spread across her face, a similar one crooked his lips, too. Her heart stuttered, and her legs felt like she was floating.
With long, excited strides, she approached him, but stopped short. Her instinct was always to hug him after a long day, and she always had to catch herself. This time was different, though. This time, it was Kellen who reached for her. He pulled her in close until the rasp of his sexy facial scruff rubbed against her rain-soaked cheek.
“I’m proud of you,” he murmured in a soft stroke against her ear.
Her knees buckled, and she buried her face into the thick folds of his jacket. Those words did something amazing to her—every time. And he used them often, as if he wanted to make sure she knew her efforts were enough.
“I’ve missed you.” The words escaped her throat before she could stop them.
“How could you miss me? I’ve been right here.” Confusion edged his tone.
Unable to explain how she’d missed his touch without sounding pathetic, she shook her head, her cheeks making zipping sounds against his jacket.
“Tell me. I don’t understand,” he said, easing her back. His eyes sparked with worry as he searched her face.
He was beautiful, drenched to the bone, eyes dark and caring, rain streaking down the sexy whiskers on his face. His nose flared, as if he was testing her scent, but all she could smell was wet earth, moss, and ozone.
“You’re sad,” he said, voice cracking. “Tell me why. Please.”
Why was she sad? She had no reason to be. She’d found a place as an honorary Ashe crew member. She’d found a job, and no one called her names or hurt her anymore. She felt safe for the first time in as long as she could remember, and the best man she’d ever met was looking down at her, gripping her arms like he cared what was wrong with her heart.
But…he’d been pushing her away. He was just a friend, and she wanted more.
Staring at him, strong-framed, long-legged, holding her arms like he wouldn’t let her go until she made him understand what was wrong, she couldn’t help herself. Standing on her tiptoes and sliding her palms up his chest, she pressed her lips against his.
Kellen froze, and his mouth went rigid for a moment before they softened on hers. She thought he would allow her to kiss him—just a chaste pressure on his lips—but his arms wrapped around her so tight, she couldn’t breathe. He lifted her feet off the ground. With a groan of pure pleasure purring up his throat, he plunged his tongue past her lips.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave into him, her Kellen. Her strong, confusing, swee
t-as-pie and protective-as-a-warrior bear.
“I missed you touching me,” she whispered as he hoisted her up and pulled her legs around his waist.
His eyes rolled back in his head, and he sighed, as if her words had eased something tight and unmanageable within him.
Her weight seemed to be nothing to him, though his arms were hard and bulged under the fabric of his jacket as he carried her toward his truck. He strode through the mud, his boots making squishy sounds with each step.
The other trucks were gone, the rest of the Ashe crew having headed back down the mountain, and Kellen’s jacked-up ride was the only one that remained.
She pressed kisses all over his face and neck until he laughed. “What are you doing, Beautiful?”
“Making up for lost time. You’ve been distant this week.”
“I have reasons for being so.”
“Like what?”
When the smile dipped from his face, she cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, softer this time.
“You are a very tricky bear to get to know,” she said, bestowing another playful kiss on the tip of his nose. “At least tell me what you are thinking now.”
“Want to get you out of these clothes.”
“Oh?” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Dirty-minded woman. I mean I want to get you dry.” He seemed enraptured with the smile on her face, and he settled her onto the side of the bed of his truck where she was eyelevel with him. “You’ve changed a lot since I first met you.”
Raking her fingernails lightly across the back of his head, just under his hard hat, she asked, “How so?”
“You seem happier. You laugh a lot and make jokes.” He traced her lips with the tip of his finger. “You smile.”
“I’d smile more if you’d quit pushing me away.”
“I don’t want to do that. I just want to make sure you’re okay before I…”
He was right there, right on the verge of letting her in. “Before you what?”
He looked away at the dark wall of clouds rolling in from the east. “I want to take you into town.”
Her heart slammed to the bottom of her feet, and she froze. He was getting rid of her? Taking her back to Roger? Not now. Not after everything she’d found here. “But I don’t want to go back,” she rasped through her closing throat.
His dark eyebrows drew down. Rain spattered his yellow hard hat in a storm song as he stared at her. “I’d never take you back to him, Skyler. I meant I want to take you to dinner.” His words became rushed. “I’ve been watching Tagan and Brooke, and she seems to like to go into town for dinner alone with him. I asked her about it, and she said it was good to date. Her voice turned different, like a song, when she talked about spending time with Tagan, and I want that for you.”
Skyler’s head spun with relief. Feeling dizzy, she leaned her hat against his and sighed her stress out on a breath. “What do you want for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you want that sing-songy feeling for me, but what do you want?”
“You.”
His answer drew her up short. Cupping the back of his neck, she closed her eyes and lost herself in the feeling of being wanted by him. She’d thought he didn’t see her as a potential partner. He’d slept with her, sure, but she was still learning her way around bear shifters, and they very well could place sex over feelings and emotions. Intimacy was important to her, though, and when she’d shared that part of herself, she’d expected him to open up. When he hadn’t, she’d felt lost. And now it seemed like her feet had been slammed back to earth. The journey was dizzying, but so worth it if, at the end of the day, she could feel like this.
“I thought you didn’t want me,” she admitted, the thick words clogging her throat.
A soft growl rumbled from his chest. The door latch clicked as he yanked it open, then he set her inside the dry cab of his truck and shut the door beside him. She was settled in his lap, nestled against his chest as his breath came unevenly. Without a word, he reached over into the glove compartment and pulled out a tiny, navy-colored box. Slowly, he set it on the passenger’s seat, then looked out the window beside him with a slight frown. “I asked Tagan about your people.”
Her chest heaved as she stared at the unassuming gift sitting on the seat beside them. With trembling fingers, she lifted it to her lap, then opened it slowly.
Tears stung her eyes as she pulled out the delicate gold chain with the songbird charm. It was no bigger than her pinky nail. Her people exchanged trinkets at a ceremony that bound them as mates. If she accepted this gift, and if she gave him one in return, he would be hers, and she his.
“Do you know how big this is? Or is this just a gift because you want to take me on a date?”
“I bought it the day after you sang with Denison and you won your spot on the crew. I’ve kept it all this time because I don’t want this life for you. I want a better mate for you, one who won’t hurt you. One you won’t grow to resent. I was trying to figure out how to make you happiest—to let you go or draw you closer.” He drew his sad gaze to hers and lowered his voice. “But then you said you missed me touching you, and I can’t go back anymore. You’re mine.”
Skyler cupped the necklace in her palm. “Kellen, I don’t want to make you sad.” Her heart felt like it was overflowing and breaking all at once. “Why don’t you think you would make a good mate?”
“If I tell you, you’ll run away from me.”
“I won’t. You have to trust that I care about you enough to listen and try to understand where you come from.”
He stared out the window for a long time, then turned on the truck and scooted her into the passenger’s seat.
Geez, why couldn’t he just talk to her? He shut down like this every time, leaking out the smallest amount of information possible, which only served to drive her insane with the twenty new questions that arose. And pushing him for more didn’t help. If he didn’t want to talk about something, he just slammed down a wall she was helpless to break through. She wanted him, all of him, but perhaps Kellen wasn’t capable of sharing himself wholly with someone else. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he knew he was unable to let people in, and he didn’t want to hurt her with it. That was the only thing that made sense from the bits and pieces she’d scrapped together from him and Denison.
She placed the necklace back in the box and put it back in the glove compartment, confused as to why he’d given it to her if he had no intention of actually allowing her into his life. And not just the life he had now. Kellen was different. He spoke different, acted different, seemed governed by different rules. Even Tagan made allowances for him that the others in his crew weren’t afforded.
Kellen drove her back to the trailer park in silence, his eyes hard on the muddy road in front of them.
She felt duped. Her heart had fallen for someone incapable of returning the depth of her feeling. And sadly, she’d still accept him if he was serious with the necklace. Pathetic.
With her hard hat in hand, she shook out her damp hair and prepared for him to drop her off in front of 1010. Instead, he pulled his truck to a stop in front of 1015, his trailer. She hadn’t ever been allowed in there, and from what she’d seen over the past week and a half, no one else ventured in there either. While the shifters in this crew openly walked into each other’s trailers—sometimes without knocking as she’d learned when Brighton barged in on her in the shower and snatched a bottle of low dose pain killers from the medicine cabinet before he waved and let himself out—no one ever did that with Kellen’s home. He seemed to be very private about his living space, a fact that only made her more curious about her elusive bear.
The crew were out and about, battening down the hatches. They were stacking the plastic furniture around the fire pit, then dragging them to Bruiser’s trailer.
She thought Kellen meant to help them, but he cut the engine, jogged around the front of the truck, and opened Skyler’s door. With a
frustrated sounding grunt and a muttered, “Aw, fuck it,” he scooped her up, ran through the torrential downpour, and climbed his porch stairs.
His shoulders heaved in an explosive sigh as he settled her on her feet, just outside the front door.
“Swear you’ll try and understand?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said in the easiest promise she’d ever made.
He opened the door and pulled her in by the hand. It was unnaturally dark, and she had difficulty shimmying out of her sopping wet jacket. He didn’t seem to have the same problem by the sound of fabric rustling against her senses. She waited for him to flip on the light switch, and when he didn’t, she asked, “Can we turn on a light?” Her night vision was impeccable, but there was so little illumination to work with, it was hard to see even the couches that were situated just a few feet in front of her.
“Skyler, there aren’t any lights. I took them all out when I moved in here. If I need light during the day, I open one of the windows I’ve boarded up.”
She didn’t understand. “So, you live in the dark? Like a bat?”
“No, I live in the dark like a bear. This isn’t a trailer to me. It’s my den. My bear requires it, or I won’t have any control.”
“Control over your animal?”
“Yes.”
His hand was still strong and warm, all wrapped around hers, and she squeezed. “Who else has seen your den?”
“Tagan. He knows how I have to live from when he and his mom took me in.”
“Tagan…and me?” It was heartbreaking that he had to live in the dark because of his inner animal, but he was sharing something huge with her. Something that scared him and made him hide from other people. He was letting her in.
“The others probably know, but it’s something I don’t share. My bear, he doesn’t like others in his territory.”
“But he’s okay with me in here?”
“My bear chose you before I even knew you. You’ll always be safe in here with him. With me.”
“Will you show me around?”
“Sure. Wait here.” His hand disappeared and, moments later, a thin stream of gray light appeared from behind a piece of plywood Kellen scooted off a window. The living room and kitchen were the mirror opposite of 1010 with the kitchen on the right-hand side. A gray couch and love seat sat in front of a mahogany stand with a flat screen television. The coffee table and end tables matched, and a painting of the processor Brighton operated hung on the wall. It was done in thick, dark paints with neon green and blue highlights, and in the background, the sky was littered with stars. A hurried but skilled brush had created the landscape, but the processor was detailed down to the last screw.