Grizzly Attraction
Page 6
Emma rose and stepped back, propping her hands on her hips. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day.” She reached a hand out to him. “My name is Emma. Grizzly bear, kitchen wench extraordinaire.”
Mason cocked his head to the side, shoving his papers under the clip a bit haphazardly. “Kitchen wench?” She was the furthest thing from a wench he had ever lain eyes on.
Emma shrugged. “Running joke.”
Not a very good one. He took her hand and a feeling of… right swept over him. Not overwhelming. Just like he was at the right place at the right time kind of thing. It made him feel a smidge better. “Mason. Teacher. Mystery shifter. Fish out of water.”
“Oh, come on,” she said indignantly, rolling her eyes. “You’re still gonna make me guess what you are?
It hadn’t been his intention, but once the words were out of his mouth, he kind of wanted to see where she went. He was a porcupine. She was a grizzly bear. It was kind of the only thing he had. “Help me carry this?” He pointed to a rainbow parachute and a five-gallon bucket of whiffle balls.
“Fine.” Emma picked up the bucket and waited.
Mason tucked the clipboard under his arm and picked up the parachute. “You could have asked a dozen different people by now, if you really wanted to know.” Not that anyone really knew. In a place where shifting was normal, no one really seemed to care. And that… well, it kind of made it less exciting. He was where he should belong.
She sent him a smile, ducking her head. “Where’s the fun in that?”
He grinned. It was almost as if she got it. Or—wait—was he being that obvious?
She narrowed her eyes with a smile. “Give me a hint.”
“Nope.” Because this was enjoyable, and he was going to relish the freedom of talking about his spirit animal out loud and in public for as long as he could.
Emma sighed loudly behind him. “Mouse.”
Mason opened the door onto the field. That wasn’t the worst guess she could have had. “No.”
Svelte Academy wasn’t big. It didn’t even look like a school. It was a farmhouse, a barn, and several out-buildings. One of those buildings was a construction trailer and served as the science lab.
Mason hadn’t quite figured out how they pulled it off. Kept it a secret from the mundanes. Well, aside from the fact that they were so remote. They were almost literally in the middle of nowhere. Dexx hadn’t been very helpful when Mason had asked about it. He supposed he could ask Emma, but he wasn’t about to bring up shifter-mundane confidentiality. He’d already embarrassed himself enough for a while.
“My parents loved the cookies, by the way.”
Emma set the bucket down next to a pile of potato sacks and turned to him. “I’m glad. You’re going to have to explain this Oreo situation. I mean, I bake for a living and even I don’t think they’re the worst thing in the world.”
It wasn’t necessarily a whole situation. That made it sound like there was drama and high-speed choppers might be involved. It wasn’t Mission Impossible. It was just Oreos.
Emma adjusted her pony tail and pulled the blonde end of it over her shoulder, studying him. “Fox.”
“I half shifted and the best you can come up with is fox and mouse?” The words were out before he even thought about it. So much for avoiding that conversation. He was still embarrassed that he’d allowed himself to be tricked into a false sense of security, allowing himself to shift in public. Mason pulled up his clipboard and tapped the pen against his chin.
Emma raised an eyebrow, watching him as he studied his list. She’d had other things on her mind when he’d shifted in the bakery. Like, getting him to unshift. She’d decided right about the time she’d volunteered to help with the field day that she wasn’t going to hound him about it. So, she kept all comments to herself.
Mal.
Mmm?
Do you know what he is? Asking Mal wasn’t cheating, was it?
Do you really want the answer?
Dammit. No. She enjoyed the banter even though she shouldn’t.
A ripple coursed over her skin as Mal chuckled.
You are so not helpful.
“Emma?”
Mason peered over the clipboard at her.
A shiver trickled down her back. His voice was so… her name on his lips… That man was trouble. Since when did she have a thing for a man’s voice? “What?”
“You always a space case?” He tapped the clipboard once with the pen and turned back to the field.
“Depends.” On what? “Rat.”
“My parents are.”
Emma stopped. “And you aren’t?”
“Is that not normal?” Mason looked genuinely concerned.
Chuckling, Emma shrugged. “I suppose it’s normal enough. Maybe I’m the weird one.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Elliots have been bears for generations.”
He frowned at her quizzically. “I never really thought about it. We’ve just always been different, and I had no other shifters to talk to. I’m going to research this.”
Did he just write down a note? He was really going to research this? She chuckled.
Mason dropped the clipboard quickly to his side.
She speared him with her best alpha bear gaze. “Are you a nerd, Mason Covey?”
“Depends.” He gave her a forced grin.
There was just something about that man that drew her in. An ornery streak hit her. “Hippogriff.”
He looked at her like she’d lost her mind, but those delicious-looking lips rose. “No.”
She chuckled, enjoying his reaction. “Sphinx.”
“You’re not even guessing real things.” He rearranged the potato sacks.
“How the heck should I know what’s real? Dexx is a saber-toothed cat.”
“No, he’s not.”
“He totally is.”
“He said he was a tabby cat.”
She snorted. “You are so gullible. Oh, my gosh. Okay. Centaur.”
He snorted a laugh. “No.”
“Winged cat.”
His expression behind his black-rimmed glasses told her no.
She had one long giggle going on and now the game was to see what guess could get the best reaction. “Unicorn.”
“Uni—oh, my god.” He let the clipboard slap against his thigh. “Emma.”
She couldn’t stop chuckling. “Jackelope.”
“These are not real guesses.”
But she hadn’t felt this light in so long. She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. “Harpy.”
Winner. The look he gave her was hilariously comical.
And sexy. How in the hell did he pull that off?
“Really?” His voice rose.
“What?” She played it off with an innocent shrug and wink because she was almost afraid he might be taking this seriously and she didn’t want that.
“You’re terrible at this.” Mason said, tying a ribbon around the center point of a long, heavy rope.
She hadn’t had this much comfortable fun in a long time. With Mason, there was nothing except the moment, and that was a rare thing. She couldn’t tell him that, though. “Just tell me.” Emma glanced over her shoulder.
Leslie Whiskey came up to them with part of her brood. Emma didn’t know all the kids. A tall blonde-haired girl with a ready smile. Another girl with brown hair and a snarly smile, if that was even a thing. It wasn’t that she was evil, just maybe naturally upset? And a boy who did more clowning around than helping. “Hey, guys,” Leslie said in her Texan drawl.
Emma waved at her and then leaned forward on a whim, whispering low and throaty to Mason. “Show me.”
“And get attacked again? I think not.”
Emma blinked, bewildered. With any other man, if she leaned in and whispered something naughty to him, he would have melted, but not Mason.
He disappeared behind his clipboard.
Emma shrugged and left Mason
to go help Leslie at the snack table.
“You will not—don’t even make me repeat myself—” Leslie snapped her fingers in front of her son’s face. “—use your abilities to win any of the games.”
Emma stopped near the end of the table.
Leslie waved her over, her expression somewhere between exasperation and utter embarrassment.
It looked like she could use a little help. “Cheaters get locked up in the school basement with the ghoul, you know.”
The boy’s eyes widened.
“What she said.” Leslie shoved him gently away. “Tyler, please just behave yourself.”
“Yes, mom.” Tyler ran off towards the growing group of kids.
“It looks like you need a coffee.” Emma wasn’t quite sure what she was hoping to get out of talking to Leslie, but she was the only person who… didn’t have an ulterior opinion on her situation. “Unfortunately, all we have is water and sports drinks.”
“I have a flask of wine in my purse.”
“Seriously?”
“I never leave home without it anymore.” Leslie set the purse down under the table and worked to set up the snacks.
“Have you been having trouble with Tyler?” Emma looked back towards the group of kids. Tyler had disappeared into a small pod of three or four other kids and was laughing and talking like nothing had happened.
“Some of the parents’ prejudices about witches at school have boiled over to the kids.”
Emma cringed. One of those people was her mother.
“We’ve actually had Griff over at our place every night because of your mother.”
“That’s where he’s been?” Emma didn’t keep track of her cousin, but she had wondered because she hadn’t seen him in days.
Leslie released a frustrated breath. “Tyler’s started trying to sing his way into popularity by manipulating situations. I’ve had two notes home this week.”
“Oh. I see.” Why had Emma come over here?
Because everyone else would just judge her. Leslie wouldn’t.
“You alright, Emma? You seem out of sorts.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just clan stuff.” She really sucked at talking about stuff.
“I’m happy to share my wine,” Leslie said with a wink.
Tempting.
“I overheard some of your clan talking. It sounds like a mess.”
That was one word for it. “I don’t think I want to know what you heard.”
“Okay, well, here’s what I’m gonna say. Take it or leave it.”
Emma braced herself.
“Do what you need to for you. Fuck the rest.” Leslie stepped away, then twisted around, pointing with her finger to make her point. “And fuck your fucking mother.”
That was what she needed to hear.
A whistle blew behind her, and Emma spun. Mason was starting field day. He had set it up in stations, splitting the kids up in groups by age and dispersing them accordingly.
Emma was in charge of the parachute game for the morning and tug-o-war in the afternoon. Well, she should probably get on that.
She crossed paths with Evan as she moved to the parachute, and he muttered something under his breath.
“What was that?”
Evan looked up at her, considered for a second, and then said quite clearly, “Slut.”
Emma froze, confused. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Where the hell had that come from? Evan turned his back on her and walked away.
“Are we suddenly back in high school again?” she snapped after him. “Screw you, Evan Scott.”
She turned to move back to the parachute, but then she noticed. Every one of her bears were looking at her or whispering to one another.
Emma’s heart raced. What had Cheryl done this time? Her phone buzzed in her pocket and her anxiety peaked. The message could be anything, and as much as she wanted it to be a coincidence, she knew, deep down, that it wasn’t.
Pulling out her phone, Emma’s chest twinged as Jordan’s name showed on the screen. She took a deep breath and swiped open the message. Cheryl broke the news. Blamed it on you. Said you were sleeping around. Where are you?
Son. Of. A. Bitch. Emma was going to kill that woman. She had spent years rebuilding all these relationships with her clan. Cheryl had just wiped it out with one rumor? Emma was going to have to rebuild everything all over again.
But it pissed her off more that everyone seemed so keen to just jump on board with it.
Emma, calm down.
I’m perfectly calm, Mal.
The screen of Emma’s phone cracked in her grip.
Really? The soothing blanket his voice normally provided felt more irritating than normal.
Mal didn’t retreat, settling in just beneath her skin. Not ready to pounce. No, he was shielding her. Protecting her. Keeping her from exploding right there in the middle of the field.
Emma was going to kill her mother.
7
Emma found herself at the Main Street Diner with Mason later that evening. She didn’t even really remember the day. She’d powered through it, ignoring everyone’s looks and judgement. Leslie had caught on and had kind of shielded Emma like a protective mama bear.
Which should have been Cheryl’s job.
No. Emma shouldn’t need a mama bear to protect her. She was supposed to be an alpha.
Except that having an alpha spirit didn’t mean she had all the answers or that she was always strong. She was just as stupid and sometimes weak as everyone else.
Well, not everyone.
Emma should be at the Elliot house dealing with clan stuff. She should be talking to the other members of her clan, trying to clean up this mess.
But instead she was sitting opposite the silliest man she had met, watching him eat.
He gave her an uncomfortable expression, shoving his food in his cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Emma poked at her food with a fork, not eating.
“It might help.” Mason shoveled an overflowing fork of mashed potatoes into his mouth.
How did he have any room left in there? “I’m fine.”
The look on his face said he didn’t believe her.
She forced a bite of meatloaf down. Emma knew she needed to eat. Spending all day at the school had eventually pushed the situation with Cheryl out of her mind, save for the moments she could feel people looking at her. The hairs on the back of her neck would prickle. She had always been able to sense it when people were looking at her. Probably because of Mal. He could pull back, but he was never completely off. At times, she loved it, but today, she wanted him to disappear completely. If only for that reason.
“Well, thank you for helping out today.”
She sighed. “It’s my job.”
“It’s not. Your job is at the bakery. And you don’t have kids. Why do you spend so much time at the school?” He scooped up a spoonful of corn.
“Clan alpha’s daughter, straight up clan duties.” She shrugged. “I like volunteering, so things like this are fun for me.”
“You didn’t seem like you were having a lot of fun today. Not after the kids started showing up anyway.”
“Coming from a different angle isn’t going to get me to talk about it.”
“How’s your meal, hun?” the waitress asked, stepping up to the table. She pointed the question at Emma, who had barely touched her food.
“Oh, it is wonderful. Actually, could I get a to-go box and a strawberry milkshake for here please. Extra cherries.”
Emma raised an eyebrow at Mason.
He raised an eyebrow back and dipped a nod.
A smile cracked across Emma’s lips.
The waitress just stood there, waiting, her pen poised.
Emma held up two fingers. “Make that two milkshakes, please.”
The waitress looked at Mason for confirmation.
He nodded without taking his eyes off Emma.
How sad was it that this was still the best conversation she’d had all day? “You really could just tell me.” Emma eyed him sideways, lips quirked to the left and eyes narrowed. “Elephant.”
“You saw my face.”
“I’m still not convinced you aren’t a unicorn.” The conversation was ludicrous, but it was getting her mind off Cheryl and that was what she needed.
“Unicorns aren’t real, which we’ve already discussed.”
“Aren’t they, teacher man?”
Mason shook his head, finishing off his last bite of potatoes. “If you could shift into something other than a bear,” he said, pointing at her with his fork, “what would you shift into?”
“A bear,” she said simply. The waitress returned with a box and Emma focused on scooping her uneaten food into it.
“Have you forgotten how questions work?”
Emma groaned. “Fine.” She’d never even thought of this, or what she would want. Her life had been mapped out for her since she was born with an alpha-potential spirit. “I would change into something that could fly, I guess.”
“A toucan?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“They can fly. And their beaks are like a party with wings.”
She looked up to see a huge grin on his lips that lit up his face. That man—for all that he was a nerd like no other—was handsome as hell. “How scientific of you. I thought you were a teacher.”
“Well, they are part of the Ramphastidae family, derived from the Greek roots ramphos and –astus, meaning literally big beak. They also—”
Emma threw up her hands and laughed. “Okay, okay, Toucan Sam. I get it. And, for future reference, I don’t like Froot Loops.”
He sat back and chuckled. “Noted.”
She turned aside, the laughter still on her lips as their milkshakes arrived.
The waitress had made good on the request for extra cherries. As she set them down, a cherry rolled off a mound of whipped cream.
Emma caught it before it hit the table, popping it into her mouth. With her cheeks puckered in, she sucked the whipped cream off the cherry, raising an eyebrow at Mason.