by Liza Street
Maverick whistled low under his breath.
“We could take the land,” Blake said to Gabriel, “and not take Tyler.”
“Package deal,” Jerome said with a rueful grin. “You can’t have one without the other. My lion won’t rest easy unless I leave my son here with you. Please don’t make me beg. I’m an old alpha.”
Gabriel glanced up at the house, and Tyler followed his gaze. A curtain twitched, as if someone stood behind it. Cora, no doubt. Tyler wished he could talk this over with her. To Tyler, her opinion mattered more than everyone else’s.
“The marriage will be on paper, nothing more,” Gabriel said. “We could use another hand on the ranch, especially with Mav away at school—”
“I can come back if you need help,” Maverick interrupted. “You don’t have to make Cora marry some stranger.”
I’m not a stranger to her, Tyler wanted to say, but he knew his thoughts on the subject were far from welcome at the moment.
“Stay in school, Mav,” Gabriel said. “We’ll use Tyler for the help for three years. Then we’ll dissolve the marriage and he’ll go back. Just like an Exchange, but with marriage thrown in. On paper only.”
Jerome nodded. “Thank you for allowing us to repair this rift. Tyler, you’ll stay with the Fourniers.”
“You mean starting now?” Tyler asked.
His dad raised his eyebrows. “Why’d you think I brought you with me?”
Tyler looked around at the other men on the porch and couldn’t help but notice their distrustful stares. His new pride? Shit. Fuck. Shit.
“Send a map with the square miles you want marked on it via Quentin,” Jerome said to Gabriel. “I’ll sign off on it and send it back.”
The men shook hands all around, and Gabriel slapped Tyler’s back. “Welcome to the pride, friend.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Tyler said. The back slap had been harder than necessary. Tyler could take it after being beat up by Bryan for so many years, but shit. Was this how things were going to go down?
Tyler followed his dad back out to the truck. “I don’t even have my stuff with me.”
“I’ll send it to you.”
“How could you do this to me, Dad? Bargain me away like this?”
His dad sighed, and gave him a knowing smile. “Our prides need this, and I know you want her, Tyler. I’ve seen it on your face, in your posture. Hell, I’ve even seen it in your lion since I came back.”
Tyler’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t have anything to say, so he closed it again.
“And just as much as your lion needs her, our prides need this connection,” Jerome said. “We need a strong link between us. Maybe you and Cora could be that link.”
Chapter Three
Cora paced back and forth in her bedroom. Gabriel had to be kidding. There was no way, no way she could marry Tyler Brooks.
She looked around her bedroom. It was similar to how it had been before she and Justine had headed out, at Aunt Nan’s urging, to become Exchanges to other prides. The walls were still a pale sage green. There were still two twin beds. Cora’s desk was shoved against one wall, covered in framed photos of their family—photos Cora had taken over the years from the heavy, dusty photo albums downstairs. She and Justine used to live for flipping the pages of those albums, but now they rarely looked through them.
Someone knocked on her door. Cora wasn’t going to open it, no way. Not too long ago, she had no control over who came in or out of her private space. Bryan would knock quickly. Before waiting on her response, he’d already be unlocking the deadbolt and coming into her apartment.
“Hello, princess,” he’d say.
Cora would ignore him, turning her head away from whatever bag of food he’d brought with him. He had always been trying to get her to eat, but how could a caged person have any appetite?
And now they wanted her to marry his brother?
“Hell, no,” she whispered.
“I can hear you in there, Cora,” Gabriel said. “Let me in.”
“Hell, no!” she shouted. “You can’t do this!”
“What else could I do?” he asked. “Turn him down?”
“Yes, you could have turned him down. You could have said, no, sorry, but Cora wants nothing to do with you guys, she’d rather die than even look at a Brooks. She’d rather gouge her eyes out with fistfuls of pine needles. She’d rather—”
“Okay, I get it,” Gabriel said.
She stared at her door, willing it to burst into flames and possibly catch him on fire, too.
A few minutes passed, and there was another knock on her door, tentative this time. “It’s me. Miranda.”
Now Gabriel was fighting dirty, sending Miranda up here. He knew that Cora was least likely to be mean to Miranda of any of the pride because Miranda was just so freaking nice and understanding.
Sighing, Cora said, “Come in.”
Miranda entered, a frown marring her face. “So, this sucks.”
Cora snorted. “Right?”
“Could be worse, though,” Miranda said.
“How?”
“Well, did you look at the guy? Hell’s balls, he is hot.”
“Whatever.” It was true, though. Tyler had those whiskey-colored eyes and his skin was dark, his hair black—traits he must have gotten from his mom, since his dad was fair. Cora had never had a “type” that she went for, but she was definitely into Tyler’s type at the moment. The problem was, he looked a lot like Bryan. She’d been attracted to them both when she’d first gone to their ranch as an Exchange.
“He’s got the brooding cowboy thing down,” Miranda mused, going over to stare out the window. “Aw, he’s all alone out there on the patio.”
Cora didn’t care. She did not care.
“You know this is just on paper, right?” Miranda said. “A formality with signatures.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Miranda was still looking out the window, then she turned to Cora. “So let’s talk wedding gifts.”
“What?”
“May as well have some fun with it,” Miranda said. “What is a brooding cowboy like that least likely to want? Like, a little cowboy doll with crocheted chaps?”
Cora grinned despite herself. “A whoopie cushion for his saddle.”
“See? I knew you’d get into the spirit of a wedding. A hat with the words Real Cowboy emblazoned on the brim.”
“In pink rhinestones.”
The two women cackled, but Miranda looked out the window and shushed Cora. “He’s looking up here.”
“Damn shifter hearing,” Cora muttered. In a softer voice, she said, “I’ll do this. It’s on paper. I don’t even have to touch him.”
“Hell’s balls, I’d touch him if he were mine,” Miranda said.
“No touching the Brooks kid,” Gabriel intoned from right outside Cora’s door.
“Asshole,” Cora said. “Stop listening in on private conversations.”
“I’m just calling you to dinner,” he said, opening the door. Apparently his knock-and-wait-for-permission policy only applied when it suited him, or maybe only when his mate wasn’t in the room with Cora.
Miranda gave him a cheeky grin as she sidled past him, but he caught her easily in his arms and gave her an open-mouthed kiss. Miranda melted into him.
“Uh, you guys are blocking the door,” Cora said.
Miranda pulled away, her cheeks flushed. “Sorry.”
Gabriel smirked. “I’m not.”
“Ugh.” Cora pushed past them and stomped downstairs. Nothing like her big brother to bring out her inner teenager. She adored her family, but she desperately needed some space. Her move into the garage couldn’t come soon enough.
Kate and Maverick were staying for dinner, although Blake’s family and Quentin had all gone home. The table was piled with the fixings for cheeseburgers. Standing awkwardly off to the side was Tyler. As soon as Cora cleared the last stair, his eyes met hers.
Cora struggled to breat
he. If she had this reaction every time she saw him, she’d have to get oxygen delivered in tanks every day.
“Hi, Cora,” Tyler said.
She could only nod in his direction. No more eye contact. She sat close to Miranda at the table, listening as Gabriel said to Tyler, “Sit anywhere. We don’t have much ceremony here.”
Cora held her breath, praying he wouldn’t take the seat next to hers. That breath came out in a soft whoosh when he took a chair at the other end of the table. She could still see him, and he could see her, but at least he wasn’t so close.
“So where’s Tyler going to sleep?” Maverick asked after they’d been eating for a few minutes. “Blake’s room, or Jude’s?”
Cora noticed that he didn’t offer up Starla’s old room. It had been kept the same since Starla disappeared. Cora marveled at that—Starla had disappeared, not died. For so long, they’d thought her dead, but she’d been kidnapped, not killed. And Quentin was working steadily through his lists of contacts to find out who might know where she was. So far, though, no leads.
“I don’t have much with me,” Tyler said. “My father said he’d be sending stuff along.”
“He could have my old room,” Cora said. “I just have to move a few things out to the garage apartment.”
“Um, no,” Gabriel said. “You’ll keep your room. He’ll take the garage.”
“Wait, now, that’s not fair. I threw knives to win the garage.”
Tyler glanced at her then, a questioning expression on his face.
“You missed the last throw,” Maverick said from the other end of the table.
“You can shut up any second now,” Cora said to him.
Kate tried to smack Maverick’s shoulder, but he grabbed her hand first, and kissed it. “No more violence, dearest,” he said in a heated voice.
Cora looked away, her face feeling too hot. Gabriel and Miranda making out in her doorway, Maverick and Kate affectionate at dinner.
It wasn’t that it grossed her out; it was more that it made her feel lonely. She wondered what she was missing, what was wrong with her. Why hadn’t she been able to have that kind of intimacy with Bryan? Even before he’d locked her in the barn, his touch had made her skin crawl. Far away, yeah, he’d been attractive. But up close, her mate had given her the creeps.
She took a deep breath. “Look, I’ve been asking for that apartment for the past month. You can’t turn around and give it to someone else.”
“I want you close by,” Gabriel said, his voice low, “and I want him far away. Got it?”
It was his alpha voice. She couldn’t argue, not unless she wanted to challenge him. His heart was in the right place, but Cora gave an exasperated sigh. Sometimes it sucked being the person everyone was trying to take care of.
If Gabriel’s pronouncement had any effect on Tyler, he didn’t show it. He quietly finished his meal. “May I be excused?”
Gabriel nodded, and Tyler stood up. Once inside the kitchen, he started doing the dishes.
It had been Cora’s turn for kitchen duty, so she smiled. If Tyler was going to be a maid to the family, she could get used to that. “Hey Mav,” she said. “Wanna head out to the shop?”
He grinned, then looked to Kate. “You mind?”
“Of course not,” Kate said, shaking her head of pink and blond hair. “Make me something beautiful.”
“You already are something beautiful,” Maverick said.
Cora smiled tightly, trying not to feel impatient. They were in love. That was a good thing.
It was a short walk to the shop behind the garage, and Cora inhaled the sharp night air. “I’m glad to be here.”
“Even though Gabe’s suffocating you?”
She shrugged. “He is driving me crazy, but I know he means well. Let’s talk about other stuff.”
Once in the shop, Maverick moved over to a set of two benches he was making from an oak tree that had fallen on their property. Cora’s current project was restoration of an old farmhouse table. Sturdy, old wood with lots of history. She liked working with old things, making them new again.
“Tyler doesn’t seem so bad, you know,” Maverick said.
Cora rubbed sandpaper on one of the table legs. If she ignored him, maybe he’d shut up about Tyler.
“He’s giving you space, for one thing. Not pushing his advantage. I bet, with time, you guys might even like each other—”
“I don’t want to talk about this. I was thinking we should at least start the business licensing stuff when you’re home this summer. What do you think?”
“Sounds good.” Maverick sighed. “You sure you don’t wanna talk about Tyler?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
*
That night, Cora dreamed of the apartment over the garage. She was hanging her favorite pictures on the walls, admiring her work. There was one picture left—a family photo taken with Aunt Nan, before Cora and Justine had been sent off as Exchanges. Cora stood back to decide where it should go.
Suddenly, the manky carpeting was gone, replaced with a hardwood floor. A thick rug took up the center of the room. Tyler crouched at the edge of the rug, lighting candles that he was placing in a circle around it.
“What are you doing here?” Cora asked.
He stepped into the circle and removed his clothes. She’d seen him naked before, when they’d shifted into their lion forms to run around his ranch in Nevada. He looked just as magnificent in her dream as he had in real life. Without a word, he held a hand out to her.
She was so turned on that his touch blazed through her. He slowly took off her shirt, kissing every new inch of skin he exposed as he went. Reaching out, she gripped his cock. She’d never had sex before, but this was her dream and she didn’t have to feel nervous at all. He groaned and lay down on the rug, pulling her on top of him. She was magically naked, and they slipped and slid together, kissing and biting and licking.
Everything built until there was nowhere left for the feelings to go, and Cora felt them burst out of her in a rush that left her dazed and shaking.
She awoke in the dark, wet between her legs and throbbing from the release.
Chapter Four
Tyler prowled at the edges of the property, thinking about the wedding that had taken place earlier that day. It had been such a sham, nothing but a quick trip to the courthouse in Findley, a week after his arrival. He hadn’t gotten to speak to Cora alone in that week—he hadn’t even gotten to ride with her in the same car on the way to Findley. Luckily, his clothes and a few other things had arrived from home, so he had fresh clothes to wear for the wedding. Then again, not one other person seemed to care about the courthouse ceremony. There wasn’t even a party afterward.
This situation was so many shades of fucked up. He knew what he looked like to them all—weak. The sacrificial brother, sent to atone for the other’s sins…but sent to atone in a way that made the most injured of the party, Cora, the most uncomfortable. It wasn’t fair to Cora, and it sure as hell wasn’t fair to him.
If he weren’t so upset at the idea of disappointing his father, he’d take off.
No, that wasn’t right, either. Now that he was here, he didn’t think he could ever leave Cora’s side. It hurt that she hated him, but he’d rather suffer her hatred than never see her again.
His bride was beautiful—he just wished she didn’t look so tortured.
He kicked a pine cone aside, and it landed in a melting snow drift.
If only he could get Cora to remember something good that had happened, something that had only involved the two of them. He had plenty of good memories with her, but usually Bryan had been involved, inserting himself into every interaction possible. Would Cora allow herself to think of those memories, when his brother’s face was likely entwined with each one?
Too many thoughts, and way too much angst. He shucked off his clothes and crouched naked, waiting until his lion took over. Now on all fours, he shook himself off. This was better. His lio
n helped him feel more balanced.
One time he’d been desperate for that balance. He had overheard Bryan and Cora arguing in the apartment. Not words, just sounds. Bryan shouting angrily, and Cora’s plaintive voice. She hated Bryan—Tyler could hear that. Why couldn’t Bryan? Instead, Bryan had believed that she loved him, that it was only a matter of time before she knew it, too.
It had been so stupid.
To shut out the sounds, Tyler had shifted into his lion to go for a run in the woods. He was already riled up and angry, and he’d challenged Bryan too many times already. The more he challenged Bryan and lost, the stronger Bryan’s authority got.
As Tyler loped past the barn, though, Bryan had emerged.
Tyler could smell Cora on him. He could smell her desperation and sorrow. Suddenly, Tyler couldn’t stand it anymore. With a roar, he leaped at his brother, his mouth aimed for Bryan’s throat.
Bryan’s change had been instantaneous. It had to hurt like the devil, but Bryan was powerful enough to do it. He’d leaped toward Tyler, and the two had collided, snarling and snapping, clawing at each other’s fur.
They weren’t supposed to draw blood. Clamp jaws down on a throat to prove dominance, fine. Press the other into the ground, fine. But this time, Bryan had shredded Tyler to the point that Tyler wondered if he’d even survive.
He hadn’t meant to challenge Bryan that last time, and Bryan’s dirty fighting meant that Tyler probably wouldn’t survive another challenge. Bryan’s authority was now clear, and absolute.
Until Quentin Armstrong, working on behalf of the Sierra Pride, had come through and saved Cora. Every day, Tyler was grateful for Quentin.
He leaned against a tree, letting the bark scratch his side. The beauty of being a lion was he didn’t have to think if he didn’t want to, so he shoved those thoughts aside. Everything was better this way.
Until it wasn’t. Someone was coming. He scented the air, but the night breeze was blowing the wrong way. He hoped it wasn’t Gabriel—he was not in the mood to be bossed around yet again. Maverick had gone back to his college apartment with his mate. Blake wouldn’t be so bad, Tyler thought, except Tyler barely knew him. He didn’t feel like brawling to get to know someone.