Bear to Love: Kodiak Den #3 (Alaskan Den Men Book 8)

by Amy Lamont

  My phone vibrated against my leg. I dug it out of my pocket, keeping my eyes moving over the room, scanning one face before moving on to the next one.

  I glanced at my phone and clenched my teeth at the words there.

  “Gage, Kaden and Mason got our guy.”

  Gage stopped and looked over at me before doing another scan of the room. “He sure?”

  I texted Kaden quickly and passed on his affirmative response. “We’re done. We can head back to Kodiak.”

  Gage turned in a slow circle, not giving up his search. “Something still doesn’t feel right.”

  I nodded. Normally I wouldn’t hesitate a second before moving out of the bar. But my instincts were roaring at me to stay.

  “Beer?” Gage asked.

  Guess his instincts were saying the same because under normal circumstances, he’d be out the door ahead of me.

  We found a high top table in the quietest corner and sat with our backs to the wall, beer bottles sweating condensation in front of us.

  Gage shook his head. “Did our guy have a partner?”

  I pulled up the email with the bail jumper’s picture and vital statistics. “Negative. No known associates in the area.”

  Gage nodded and took a pull on his beer.

  The silence grew between us, and damned if I didn’t feel like a high school chick on a first date. I wasn’t exactly known for my chattiness, and Gage was even more taciturn. Long silences between us weren’t uncommon or uncomfortable. Neither one of us felt the need to fill every void with idle chatter.

  But this silence seemed loaded. Maybe it was just me. Maybe feeling torn between Macy and Gage was fucking with my head, and Gage had no clue anything was off.

  A quick glance at him pushed that idea right out of my head. Gage’s clenched jaw and the white knuckle grip he had on his beer bottle told me he felt it too.

  Before I could think how to bring it up, the band stopped and the guy that’d been singing since we got here introduced someone else. I ignored what was happening on the stage and racked my brain for ways to bring up Macy.

  I opened my mouth, but the room suddenly filled with a sweet voice that carried clear to the back of the bar. The lyrics spoke of longing for love. The emotion behind the words made my heart ache and the voice itself danced over my skin like a caress.

  My eyes flew to the stage. In all my years of service, I’d seen enough that very little surprised me. But what I saw on that stage made my jaw drop.

  “Holy shit. Macy.” Gage’s voice held a strange huskiness I’d never heard from him before.

  With effort, I tore my eyes from Macy, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders and her eyes closed as she sang, to look at Gage. His face held the same expression I’m sure my own wore—shock and awe.

  And something else. I studied him, trying to get a lock on what it was.

  But I knew. I knew exactly what I was looking at. For the first time in all the years I’d known him, Gage wore his feelings on his face as clear as day.

  Or maybe I only recognized it on him because it so closely resembled the emotions thrumming through me—longing, need, desire...possession.

  “Gage.” My voice even held the same rasp his had just moments ago.

  He spun toward me, his gaze raking my face.

  “What the fuck, Nash?” he finally asked.

  I stared at the man in front of me, my best friend. The person who carried me through some of the worst moments of my life. And I knew I needed to come clean.

  “She’s my mate,” I said quietly.

  His eyes narrowed. “Who?”

  I jutted my chin toward the stage. “Macy, man. Macy’s my mate.” My bear rumbled his satisfaction as I stated my claim. But that satisfaction would be short-lived.

  “That’s impossible, Nash.”

  “Gage, I know we have...whatever this is going on between us. I know it’s the worst possible time, but I have no control over it. Macy is my mate.”

  “No, it’s not possible.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  He shook his head and pounded a fist on the table. “I mean it’s not possible. Macy can’t be your mate. She’s mine."

  Macy

  When Ben introduced me to sing, an unusual twinge of nerves struck me. Not that I never got nervous about performing in front of the audience, but usually I welcomed the butterflies that came along before getting on stage. That was all part of the fun.

  My bandmates were the same way. We’d talked about the adrenaline spike that comes on right before going on stage, and how it pumps the energy level even higher. The feeling was addictive.

  But the nerves I’d felt since we started playing tonight were different. These weren’t butterflies. It was more like an intense itch under my skin. The sensation slid up and down my spine, causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise. It wasn’t fear, but something close to it, something I couldn’t quite put a name to.

  By the time Ben announced my song at the very end of our set, I was strung as tightly as the strings on the guitar I held. I did my best not to let it get to me. I prided myself on being professional at all times, including giving everyone in the audience the best show I could, whether we were playing to a few locals in a dive bar or a packed-to-the-rafters club.

  As I sang the lyrics of the song Ben and I had written, I started to relax. I let my eyes drift closed as I put as much emotion behind the words as I could. The song was about how hard it was to find love when you felt the need to hide parts of yourself from everyone. And as I sang the words, images of Nash and Gage floated through my mind. When I wrote this song, it wasn’t about anyone specifically, just a way to put a voice to my own frustrations and desires.

  But now I had a target for those desires. I could feel the longing building inside me as I imagined being held in Gage’s arms or lying down beside Nash. The frustration I felt was so much greater then anything I imagined as I wrote those lines. Back then it was just one love I longed for. One man who seemed so out of reach.

  Now my desires seemed even more fruitless, even more taboo.

  As I got to the end of the song, a single tear slid down my cheek. The crowd had gone oddly quiet. I slowly opened my eyes just as wild applause and catcalls broke out.

  I scanned the audience in front of the stage and listened to the feet stomping and whistles of appreciation. This wasn’t the biggest crowd we’d ever performed for by a long ways, but what the crowd lacked in size, they made up for in loud and vocal appreciation.

  I shook my head in wonder and glanced at the other members of the band. Ben threw me a grin, and I smiled right back before I turned my eyes forward again.

  And that’s when I saw them.

  My heart came to a complete and sudden stop. My breath refused to come. Even the sounds of the cheering dulled as I took in the two men sitting at a table in the far corner of the bar, both of them with their eyes locked on me.

  Reality came crashing back with a vengeance. My heart restarted, going from zero to a hundred in a second and a half. The noises of the crowd and Ben thanking everyone on behalf of the band hit my ears. Those sounds were slightly muted because they competed with the sound of my blood rushing through my body in quick, jolting pulses. I froze in place, even as Ben and the other guys headed off stage.

  But then I watched as Nash and Gage exchanged a few words and in unison stood from the table and moved toward the back of the bar. Toward me.

  Holy crap. I needed to get out of here. Now.

  My feet finally seemed capable of carrying me, and I scrambled toward the stairs at the side of the stage. I clutched the neck of my guitar and came a hairsbreadth from face planting as I stumbled over microphone cords in my haste.

  Somehow I managed to get myself and my guitar off the stage and into the back room, slamming the door behind me the second I stepped through it.

  At the sound of the door crashing closed, Ben looked up from where he was putting his bass back into its case. Whe
n his gaze landed on me, his brows snapped together and he started moving toward me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I leaned against the door, letting my head fall back against it, breathing as hard as if I just finished an ultra marathon. I shook my head, fighting to get my breath under control before I was able to offer any explanation for my bizarre behavior. “They’re here.”

  “Who?” Ben asked.

  I peered over Ben’s shoulder to see Dave and Jack. They looked at my curiously, but didn’t stop packing up their stuff.

  I returned my attention to Ben and whispered, “Nash and Gage.”

  His eyes grew wide. “They're here?”

  I nodded.

  “Did they see you?”

  I nodded again, this time more frantically.

  “Oh, shit, Mace. This is not good. On so many levels.”

  “I know!” He didn’t need to explain it to me. I’d managed to hide my music from the members of my den through high school and all the years since. The last thing I ever wanted was for my friends and family to tell me how dangerous it was, hanging around bars with a bunch of musicians. Worse, I hated the thought of them making fun or light of my music. It was as important to me as taking care of my animals.

  And of all people to finally discover me—Nash and Gage. Could my luck get any worse?

  I eased my way around Ben and headed for where I left my guitar case. “I have to get out of here. Now.”

  Ben stepped toward me. “How are you going to manage that if they saw you? Even if you get away—”

  The door burst open. All of us twisted toward it as Nash stormed in with Gage hot on his heels. They looked huge and fierce in the already cramped back room.

  I felt like someone sucked all the air from the room. My eyes darted back and forth between the two men. I couldn’t imagine what they thought, discovering me standing on that stage.

  Ben moved in front of me in a protective move I’m sure he wasn’t even conscious of. That brought me right out of my Nash and Gage-induced stupor. I fought down a giggle. Nash and Gage might get angry at finding me hanging out in a bar, standing in front of a room at least half full of men with the alcohol flowing liberally, but they’d never in a million years hurt me.

  And I wasn’t even going to touch the fact that, while Ben was a big guy for a human, next to Nash and Gage, his rangy frame made him look like a pipsqueak.

  I moved out from behind him. But obviously, Ben wasn’t as sure of Nash and Gage as I was. He reached out and placed an arm in front of me and grabbed my arm, blocking me from moving forward.

  The second his hand landed on me, an inhuman growl came from the front of the room making my spine go straight and ratcheting up the tension by a million and one percent.

  “Get your hands off her.” Gage stalked toward us, his jaw clenched so tightly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he bared his teeth.

  “Gage, it’s fine.” I tried to break Ben’s hold, but he refused to let me go. “Ben!”

  He shot me a look that told me just how nuts he thought I was. And he wasn’t the only one feeling the tension. Dave and Jack moved up to flank us, making Nash step forward, his face like granite. All the five of them needed were some swords and shields, and maybe a metal skirt or two, and they’d look like ancient gladiators about to battle for their lives.

  Men. I ripped myself from Ben’s grasp, ignoring the tingle of pain that shot through my elbow as I twisted. “Stop it. All of you.”

  “Macy...” Ben started.

  I held up my hand. “Ben, it’s fine. I’m sure Nash and Gage are surprised to find me here. But it’s not like they’re going to hurt me.” I turned to the two men who had my knickers in a constant twist lately. “Right, guys?”

  Gage continued to stand with his posture rigid and his gaze locked on Ben.

  Ben and my bandmates weren’t much better. They stood with squared shoulders, grim expressions on their faces, fists clenched and cocked at their sides.

  I rolled my eyes and fought the urge to laugh. In a fight with other humans, I’m sure my bandmates could more than hold their own.

  In a fight with my guys? No, way. Next to the ferocity of the two shifters who seemed to hold my fate in their hands these days, Jack, Dave and Ben looked like pussycats. My guys had them beat by a mile when it came to bulk, brawn and predatory instincts.

  I took a giant step forward and put myself directly between Gage and the band. I glanced over at Nash. He’d relaxed a bit. His shoulders were still tight, and I could almost feel the tension coming from him. But he’d rocked back on his heels, and a small smile played over the corners of his mouth. Apparently, at least one of the men in the testosterone-laden room could appreciate the ridiculousness of the situation.

  “Macy, over here,” Nash clipped out.

  Okay, maybe I'd overestimated his appreciation.

  I sighed, but I couldn’t help myself. Something about his voice, about the look in his eyes, made me want to obey him. A little part of me balked at the idea, but then logic took over. Extricating myself from the current machismo sandwich I seemed to be the meat in was probably the best way to neutralize the situation.

  I stepped over to Nash’s side. You would think I managed to defuse a bomb. I’d be lying if I said the pressure totally left the room, but there was a definite easing of tensions.

  Nash moved into me, pulling me close, his arm a band of steel around my waist so that my front was plastered to his side. He pressed a fleeting kiss to my temple.

  I’m sure my mouth dropped open at his physical display. And I think I lost my ability to blink. What on earth was going on here?

  But while my human side might be running to catch up to what was going on, my bear was in her glory. She stretched luxuriously and urged me to press even closer into Nash.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I finally managed to ask, my voice soft.

  Gage slid up behind me, pressing close to my back. The warmth of the two men enveloped me, infusing me with a languid heat that had me fighting the urge to rub myself against them.

  I turned to my bandmates and I couldn’t help it. I giggled. Ben had a smug, I-told-you-so look on his face. Moe and Curly on the other hand, had their jaws on the floor, their eyes popped out of their heads.

  Here was one upside to Ben’s theory that the three of us were somehow bonded together like mated pairs. The shock factor might actually be a lot of fun.

  I turned my face up to Nash to find him looking down at me.

  “We were looking for a bail jumper,” Nash explained. “Kaden and Mason nabbed him, and Gage and I decided to grab a beer.”

  At the mention of my brother’s name, my entire body went rigid. “Kaden was here? Did he see me singing? In a bar?” I couldn’t keep the horror out of my voice.

  “No, Macy.” Gage ran a soothing hand up and down my arm.

  I didn’t think he got the effect he was going for with his touch. Every nerve ending in my body stood up and took notice. Parts of me I’d long considered useless suddenly came to life.

  “Your brother and Mason were at a different bar. We’d split up,” Nash explained.

  All I could do was nod as I fought for control of my senses. No easy feat considering the oh-so-close proximity of the two shifters I considered mine.

  “You want us to leave you three alone?” Ben’s voice broke into the intimate bubble surrounding us. Amusement dripped off every word.

  I shot him a dirty look and found the demeanor of my three bandmates had changed considerably. Ben had his arms folded over his chest, a smirk twisting his lips. Jack and Dave just looked confused. And maybe a little turned on.

  Gross.

  “We’ll take you home,” Nash said quietly, bringing my attention back to him.

  “I was going to spend the night and come back in the morning with Ben.”

  Both men went rigid against me.

  “You’re not staying the night here with three strange men.” Gage’s voice n
ear my ear sent a shiver down my spine.

  I closed my eyes for a brief second as I fought for control. My nerves felt jagged and raw. My bear pushed through me, craving the freedom to claim these men as hers.

  With a deep breath that brought the tips of my breasts tantalizingly close to Nash’s chest, I opened my eyes.

  “The guys aren’t strange.” I shot the band a look, finding the three of them still gawking. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Nash. “At least not in the way Gage means. I’ve known these guys for years.”

  “You mean you’ve been sneaking out with them for years.” Nash’s stern gaze made me feel like a naughty school child.

  Of course, that thought led to a host of naughty thoughts that were definitely all grown up. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip.

  A groan escaped Nash and I stared up at him from under my lashes, searching his face for some clue as to what he was thinking.

  Gage’s hands moved up to settle on my shoulders. “How long has this been going on?”

  My muddled mind searched for an answer to his question and finally came up with something. “Since the day out in the woods when Nash helped me find the mama cat. I felt it for the first time then.”

  Nash’s face instantly softened and one side of his mouth tipped up as if he was fighting a losing battle against his amusement. “I think Gage meant how long have you been sneaking off to sing in bars, honey.”

  Honey. The endearment slid through me, warming me from the inside out. My lips parted and for long moments all I could do was stare up into his handsome face.

  “Macy?” Nash prompted.

  I blinked up at him and reality returned. “Since tenth grade.”

  Nash flinched and I could feel Gage stiffen at my back.

  “You’ve been sneaking into bars since you were fifteen years old?” Nash’s voice came through clenched teeth, anger clear on his face.

  I huffed out a breath. “I didn’t have to sneak in anywhere. I was with the band and nobody ever asked for I.D.”

  The storm clouds brewing behind Nash’s eyes told me that answer didn’t calm him at all.

  I leaned into him, Gage’s body following mine, curving into my back.