by Cecilia Lane
Her hands tightened on the metal of a rack when she heard Sylvie’s piggish chortle from the register. Needing to put space between her and doing something reckless, Becca snatched up a pile of clothes without really looking at them and hurried into the changing room.
She didn’t choose him. She had no right to jealousy. He backed away from her before, even if he’d been trying to set them up as a little family.
He didn’t include her, and last night’s actions didn’t give her faith he’d changed in the slightest. He still wanted to do what he thought was best for her, and damn taking her opinion into account. He took alpha male bullshit to an unbearable new level.
Hah. Un-bear-able.
Becca blew out a long breath and tried to keep from losing her mind. She’d seen Rylee fall into an anxiety attack and she wondered if that was what she felt. The tightness in her chest, the need to cry and inability to make a sound, her skin tight and tingly. She felt like she was dying.
All her personal tragedies led right into the next. Losing the baby led to distance growing between her and Nolan led to leaving Bearden led to wandering the States led to getting snatched by hunters led to murder led to returning to Bearden. And now bullets and fires and Nolan were driving her away again.
She didn’t choose him, but she couldn’t watch him with someone else. She needed to get the hell out of Bearden.
A timid knock on the door jerked her out of the spiral. “Becca? You okay?”
“Fine!” she shouted to Leah. “Out in a second!”
When she exited, Nolan was gone. Her fox scratched at her insides in disappointed fury.
Leah frowned at the hodgepodge pile in her arms before plucking them away. She and Rylee made quick work of selecting several new outfits while she stood blankly next to them.
Neither of them made a comment on her unusual quiet. Leah did enough talking for all three and kept Rylee in stitches with a retelling of Gideon Bloodwing’s reaction to his underling painting the walls of his office at The Roost a bright pink with glitter flecks. The dragon nearly had an aneurysm when he walked into the bar after weeks of settling his clan within the enclave.
By the end of the telling and Leah’s exaggerated recreation of Gideon’s reaction, Becca felt slightly better. The pulse of her daze faded just enough for her to truly appreciate the women who joined her for early morning clothes shopping and distractions from her problems.
“Let me get it,” Rylee insisted in her quiet way when they decided on enough outfits to last nearly two weeks without reusing a single item. Jacob wasn’t the only one getting lessons from Cole. Since mating and helping Bearden shout to the world they were about to be put down by rogue military operatives, the quiet lab rat had grown a loud squeak.
Becca shook her head. “No need. I don’t need any charity.”
“It’s not charity, it’s friendship. And besides, I’m getting hazard pay for working inside the enclave. Something about you clawed and fanged types being a danger to a little human like me. Might as well spend it.”
“It’s been taken care of already,” Sylvie said and handed Rylee her card.
“What do you mean? We haven’t paid yet.”
Sylvie pointed to Nolan leaning against the side of the building. Standing guard, more like it. He’d get a sniff and an eye on anyone who entered the shop. “He paid.”
Leah sidled up between Becca and Rylee. “Dangerous. Callum tried that on me.”
“Probably where he got the idea. They’re all a bunch of gossips, these men,” Rylee said with a grin. She drew Becca into a quick hug. “Let me know where you want lunch and I’ll meet you there. I need to go prod some new lab rats this morning. Some of the advanced sequencing and manipulations are giving us very interesting results.”
Becca watched Rylee scamper outside and right into the arms of Cole. The usually surly bear picked her up and swung her in a circle before setting her back on her feet. He even fixed her glasses for her before walking her toward the firehouse and his truck.
Her heart only hurt a little watching the display, but she wasn’t about to let it show. “Does she mean actual rats or new arrivals in the enclave?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Leah was quiet for a moment. Then she sighed and shook her head. “You remember the first words you said to me? ‘Disgusting, aren’t they?’ I’m to assume your sister already extolled the benefits of being in a mated pair with a picture of candlelit dinners and so much oral sex that you’re unable to walk?”
Becca gagged. “Damn, Leah, you know I want to get double-teamed as much as any other girl, but I could do without the image of my sister.”
“I bet you do. Deflection aside, I’d wager you harbor some deeply depraved fantasies of monogamous sex for life and a family to go with it. You deviant.” Leah graced her with a scandalized look. “No, I’m giving the tough love advice because you’re my sister from another mister and I’ve been feeling incredibly nurturing lately. Callum says it’s my bear settling into the role of alpha’s mate and I’ll want babies soon, to which I said he’ll be making solo deposits at the spank bank if he even thinks about babies for the next year.”
“One, way too much information. Two, since I’m sure this conversation is heading toward Nolan, it’s not up for discussion. Something terrible happened and we bring out the worst in one another.” Becca shrugged and hoped it’d be the end of Leah’s prying. She zipped around the rack and put two more between her and Leah for good measure. She might as well add some extras to the purchase pile if someone else was covering her bill.
Leah tilted her head and smiled. She moved with surprising speed until she once against stood at Becca’s side. “He brought you breakfast and clothes. I don’t know how that’s the worst.”
Becca took a step back. The hair raised on the back of her neck as a jolt of pain and anger fought against one another. “Saying sorry and throwing down money isn’t enough to make the past disappear.”
“You’re right. Becks, life coach time. You helped me pull my head out of my ass and find a place here, so let me return some advice.” Leah bumped their shoulders together to take the sting out of her words. “Words are just words. But his actions are telling a story. That man wants the best for you and isn’t giving up no matter how hard you push him away. He begged Callum for time off so he could make sure you’re safe today. He called up Gray ten times to make sure he was going to deliver your breakfast and by all accounts, triple checked the bag before he let Gray leave.
“You say you make each other crazy, and that’s probably true. It’s also true that I’m new to all these overwhelming, protection, rawr instincts and might be totally off my rocker. But the only type of crazy that makes a person act like that is love.”
“We had that. It didn’t work out. Things got messy and everything went to shit.”
“That’s what love is, isn’t it? It’s not all sunshine and rainbows and breakfast in bed. It’s holding your hair when you’re puking and being there at your lowest.”
“He wasn’t there at my lowest.”
“He seems to be there now.” Leah nodded toward the window. Nolan glanced over his shoulder to check on her, then focused again on the passersby. “So to recap, words don’t matter without the actions to back them up. And sometimes, people grow up over ten years and try to fix the mistakes they made back then.”
“What if he hasn’t?” By the Broken, she hated the insecurity the entire situation grew inside her. He wanted her, she knew that. He never made her wonder if she was the only girl in his life, also true. But the looming questions weren’t about her own worth. They were about him and how they worked together. “What if he can’t stick with me? Thick and thin, when the going gets tough, all those other bullshit phrases? What if he walks then? What if he blocks me out in his need to do what’s best for me? What if he can’t take what I want into account?”
“If you feel about him the way I think you do—and we’re absolutely going to talk a
bout that horrid shade of green you turned when he was talking to Sylvie—then don’t you owe it to yourself to try? Baby steps, grasshopper. See for a day. A week. A month. This doesn’t have to be an overnight whirlwind. How long do you intend to dance around this big, nebulous thing that’s between you both before something changes?”
“Forever has a nice ring to it,” Becca said with a huff, but there was no attitude in it. Cole had planted a seed, Faith watered it, and Leah was making it grow. Another glance out the front window showed her Nolan pushing his hand through his hair and checking over his shoulder. A ghost of a dimple appeared with his tiny smile.
She was tired of feeling bad all the time. She was tired of hiding it from everyone. Maybe Leah was right and she needed to try a different approach to finding her way. She’d grown stagnant. The deep misery she felt was her cue to move to a new city or state when she lived outside the enclave. She needed to make a change.
Becca held up a pink sequined tank top meant for toddlers. “Think you can get this in your size and with the bar’s logo on it?”
Leah’s lips twitched. “Topic shelved, got it. And we’re absolutely going to special order that for a new uniform for the next time Gideon gives me grief over how I ran his bar when he left me alone with no warning.”
Chapter 13
After an entire day of filling out form after form to prove her identity—as if the women behind the desk didn’t know her—Becca was certain death by bureaucrat was her future. The rogue occupation by the late Major Brant Delano and his army of high-caliber assholes hadn’t killed off the enclave, but the government was giving them the Al Capone treatment. They’d all be brought down by paperwork.
Sucks for them, she mused while walking a path into the carpet of her room at Muriel’s and avoiding her real agitation. Bearden and other enclaves paid all their taxes and filed all the appropriate paperwork. Sure, most of their business and deliveries were done through shell companies of shell companies to protect the real location of the enclave, but those layers of removal operated within the law.
Which was why it grated on her to submit in triplicate the arson report, have her fingerprints taken, smile pretty for the camera, go to that office, no go there, and still not be any closer to replacing her crispy driver’s license or debit card.
Her fox scratched at her insides like a puppy trying to get outside. Becca had half a mind to let the fox have her skin and unleash the furry banshee on Bearden Town Hall.
And all of those ideas were simply the surface of her thoughts. The moment she let her focus drift from biting off the clacketing fingers of every single person who refused to help her because Big Brother was watching their every move, Nolan’s stupidly perfect face zoomed to the front and center of her attention.
He hadn’t spoken a single word to her all day. He stayed with her, following her from office to office, and kept utterly silent. It was unnerving, especially after the shitfit he threw the night before. She didn’t know who talked some sense into him, but she was grateful.
A little angry, too. Without a new spat every ten seconds, she was forced to think about Leah’s advice. As the day wore on, she sank further into the comfort of having him nearby.
He was there for her. While everyone else went about their lives and errands, Nolan dropped everything to make sure she stayed safe. He fed her and clothed her. He was a rock for her to cling to, even as she acted like a rabid animal and tried to bite him every time he got close.
Bearden was supposed to be a temporary retreat. A place she could gather herself back together. Yet, there she was half a year later and no prospects for getting out. No closer to fixing herself, either. She was stuck in the enclave and her head. Being stuck, with nowhere to turn, feeling caged up like an animal, made her want to fuck shit up.
She needed a change. But maybe Leah was right. Maybe everyone desperate to spray her with their advice knew something she didn’t. Maybe her way forward was taking a step back.
Her fox scratched again at her insides.
Hell, she wasn’t one to stay locked in her head. She was a doer. Thinking—and regretting—was for after a gallon of whiskey sours.
Becca grabbed hold of her ladyballs and threw open her door to march across the narrow corridor. It was probably a fire hazard. Nolan would know. He should do something about it.
Impulsive? Probably. But better than sitting around and going grey over indecision.
Nolan swung the door open even before she knocked. Becca frowned. Muriel offered extra thick walls to accommodate her supernatural guests and their sensitive hearing. Nolan still acted quick enough that he must have lurked just behind the door and waited to pounce.
She couldn’t even muster irritation. Sneaking past the door or jumping out the window to avoid him were plans two and three if the invitation went sour. And plan two wasn’t about to work if he crept behind his door to catch her the moment she opened hers.
Her fox stilled and quieted as soon as Becca inhaled his scent. The deep, woodsy spice forced open all her senses and made her hyper-aware of him.
“I have it on good authority that your clan will be at The Roost tonight,” Becca said.
Nolan nodded.
“You always go with them.” She was not going to twist her fingers nervously, so she planted her hands on her hips.
Another nod. Oh, he was still giving her the silent treatment? Points for commitment to the bit.
“I was going to go tonight, too, and since you’re clearly not leaving me alone, I thought I’d let you know so you wouldn’t have to tell them you won’t be joining them.”
He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. His dimple grew with his smug smile. “So you’re asking me out on a date.”
“No.” Becca’s eyebrows pulled together, and she scowled.
“You and I are going to the same place.”
“Yes.”
“Together.”
“Not together. We will be in the same room. That’s it.”
“Sounds like a date to me.” His smile broadened, and he ran a hand through his hotboy hair. The dirty blond strands fell to the side of his face. Green eyes, almost too bright to be human and his own, sparkled at her.
Her fox urged her to touch. Caress. Tangle. Anything to get closer to him. “Just letting my stalker know my plans.” Becca bolted for her room before she acted on instinct. It was one thing to plan to occupy the same space and another to pull him down for a kiss guaranteed to make her toes curl.
“I’m ready when you are, sweetheart,” he called after her.
She wasn’t sure if he meant heading to the bar or something else.
Becca stood at the crowded bar and waited for space to clear. Leah and Gideon worked as quickly as they could, but there was a limit to how fast glasses could be filled.
A round of cheers rose up from behind them. Gray threw his arms wide and then stuck both middle fingers up at Hudson over the points he just made at the pool table. Bills were thrown down on the stubby counter attached to the wall as the Strathorns continued to take bets and jeer each other’s abilities to hit a ball.
Even Nolan looked relaxed in the middle of them. He brushed back his hair and met her eyes. An easy smile spread across his face and sunk his dimple deep. Damn the man for looking so good.
She was glad Rylee had offered to help get refills for the crowd. The entire clan was out and that meant an armful of pints and bottles to carry across the bar. Two armfuls.
If they ever got to place their order.
An argument sprang to life next to her and Rylee while they waited. Trent, the leader of the lion pride, muttered dark words to Ethan, the alpha on one of the outer ranches. While Trent had a problem with the humans inside the enclave, he had zero problem taking their money, which was what prompted the fighting in the first place. Trent and Ethan both planned to start trail rides and enclave tours for the newcomers and neither wanted the other edging in on their perceived territor
y.
As the two dug in their heels and raised their voices, Becca shook her head. They were going to end up throwing punches, and she just wanted to get her drinks. Her eyes slid to Rylee at her side. And she needed to keep her human friend out of the path of any stray claws.
“Gentlemen,” she said over their growls, “The solution here is obvious. Partner up.”
Both gave her withering looks, and she snarled right back in their faces. “Ethan, there is no way you’re hauling a group up the mountains on those old swaybacks you call horses. They’ll make it a mile in five hours. And Trent, you can’t possibly think anyone will want to sit in uncomfortable silence all day long. You realize they will be human, right? Ten fingers, ten toes, and no animals in their middles? How many times has Leah kicked you out of here for your anti-human tendencies? The only way I see this working for either of you is Ethan leads the tours with Trent’s horses.”
Both men grumbled, but their scents had faded from stinging anger to mild irritation. Ethan stuck out his hand and eyed Trent. “I figure we have some business to discuss.”
Trent glared at the offered hand like it was a snake winding up to bite. He surprised Becca when he passed a hand down his face and shook with Ethan. “Only because talking to those damn fragile meatsacks makes me break out in hives. We’ll talk.”
“You’re good at this, you know.” Rylee smiled into her glass and ducked her eyes. “Ever think of making a guide for the town?”
Now that was an idea. “I have not,” she answered, but the wheels were already turning.
Visitors from the other enclaves knew a bit about the area and the hot spots. Only a few thousand lived in each one, and supernaturals were such a small population compared to the rest of the world. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for relatives to live elsewhere. Hell, enclaves even sent some of their own to live in other locations and represent their interests. Tommy’s family was originally from Wolfden and moved to Bearden to act as ambassadors.