by Cecilia Lane
The humans, though, had no such link to the enclaves. They were total outsiders, and those types used to be killed to keep the enclaves secret. The borders had been opened for research and Becca didn’t see them slamming shut anytime soon. The scientists already in place and the tourists sure to follow would need to know where to go, what to eat, and who to avoid.
Whoever ran it would need to know both inside and outside the enclave. Like the fire she just squashed, the ones who had no business talking to outsiders would need to be kept to the background. But the friendlier folk weren’t necessarily the right ones to throw at tourists, either. And an outsider would be needed to tell all the insiders what was likely to make the poor humans uncomfortable.
Leah frantically pushed nine full glasses and bottles across the bar, then shouted for the next order before they had a chance to balance the beverages between them.
Rylee clinked a glass and sloshed beer over both their hands. “Let me know what you come up with and I’ll include it in all the welcome packets,” she said and shook her hand dry. “We’ll give those to Cole and Nolan.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” They pinched pints and bottles between their fingers and pressed against their bodies, then pushed their way back through the crowd.
Nolan and Cole both rushed to help unload them of their burdens, taking over when they’d already done the hard part. Typical.
Nolan’s fingers brushed against hers when he moved to take the final extra bottle from her hands. She simultaneously stiffened and shivered at the touch. Warmth moved through her and didn’t stop until she pulled away.
He stared down at her for an uncomfortable moment. His eyes churned from the mossy, human green of simply Nolan to the brilliant, glowing green of his inner bear. She prepared for another attempt of convincing her she needed him and his protection and more insistence that they were fated to be together.
A slow smile spread across his face and that infernal dimple melted her insides. He plucked the bottle from her fingers and stepped away.
Becca sucked in a breath she hadn’t realized she held. Nolan returned to his side of the pool table and punched Gray hard on the shoulder for something the man muttered.
What was he doing?
Trying to puzzle out his new tactic, Becca tucked herself into a stool and watched the clan interact around her.
Usually, she’d plant herself at the bar and talk Leah’s ear off. That didn’t feel fair to Nolan, so she found herself mixed in with the Strathorns. At least Rylee was nearby for more civilized talk than who had the biggest dick.
She knew most of them from growing up. The Strathorn brothers, and Callum especially, were dragged around by their father as he went about his duties. Ephraim always intended for Callum to take control of the clan, and he’d done so with the misfits he’d befriended over the years.
Gray and Hudson were a year ahead in school, and a year counted for a lot when they were younger. They didn’t run in the same circles for most of her life, though Gray and Nolan grew close from some shop class incident they never divulged.
Sawyer was the biggest mystery. He’d moved to the enclave after she’d left, but he still found a place in the clan.
To anyone who didn’t know them or see the laughter in their eyes, they were downright mean to one another. A punch or a bump to the bottom of a bottle while someone drank were as common as a complete teardown of someone’s ability to throw darts, shoot pool, or their talent in bed.
And always, always after a taunt, there was a touch. A clapped shoulder, a press of their heads, something to connect them and soothe any hurt. She understood the concept of having a clan or pack at her back, but she’d never had one in reality. Even Rylee, all human and none of the primal instincts, sank into the chosen family.
A sting of pain tightened in Becca’s chest. Watching the Strathorns was enough to make her want what they had.
Jacob sidled up next to her and interrupted her observations. Not too close, she noted. He also made sure to cast a dark look in Nolan’s direction. The bear kept steady eyes on the wolf. At least neither man moved to punch the other. Becca considered that progress.
Jacob took a long pull from his bottle, then bounced it on his knee. Ragged fingers picked at the label.
Becca resigned herself to whatever he was working himself up to say. She knew those habits. Picking at skin and paper was better than picking apart the thoughts raging like bulls. She still had days like that, and she’d only been captive of the hunters for a few weeks. Jacob had been theirs for at least a year.
And she was the reason he hadn’t found freedom sooner.
She blinked and failed to ignore the scene painted in blood behind her lids. Her fox rose to attention in high alert, ready to tear into anyone that tried to put them in a cage again.
“Someone is after the enclave,” Jacob finally said.
“Yeah? Who told you that?” she asked more sharply than intended. She willed her heart to slow its rapid beating.
Jacob slashed his eyes to the side. “Don’t need telling. I can taste it in the air.”
“Well, Cole’s lessons are going swimmingly,” she muttered. Normal people didn’t taste threats on the air. Fucking deranged wolf.
“Too many fires. Something is coming. I can’t feel comfortable in my own skin.”
“You’re being paranoid.” He had to be, otherwise it meant trouble she didn’t want to revisit. Nightmares come to life and facing down guilt and disgust.
She lowered her voice. “I felt that way, too. After. Still do. But every bad thing that happens isn’t connected. Shitty people are going to be shitty and they don’t care if it’s after a big fight or months later when everyone has calmed down. Besides,” she tossed her hair over her shoulders and shuttered her worry away, “your new clan tore the fucker Delano apart for shooting Cole. That ought to send a clear message and give us some space to breathe.”
She excused herself before Jacob could press more worries on her and zipped straight into the restroom. She planted her hands on the side of the sink and stared hard at her reflection.
No one was coming for her. She’d pulled the tracker out from under her skin. It’d been thrown from the window of a moving vehicle. Jacob wasn’t right and the only trouble that waited for her came in the shape of a blond-haired, green-eyed temptation from her past.
One she had yet to thank for his help.
Stomach doing leaps that shouldn’t have been anatomically possible, Becca fixed a smile on her face and stepped back into the noise of the bar.
The music turned slow as soon as she made her way just past the dance floor. She froze. Shit. Nolan was too close. Much too close. She rolled her eyes in one direction, then the other. Trapped at the edge of the dance floor with the one man she didn’t want to touch.
A bump from behind staggered her right into Nolan’s chest.
All her senses sharpened at once and cast aside everything that wasn’t the man holding her. Colors were brighter, noises clearer, and they all faded into the background. Except Nolan.
Her heart tripped in her chest. She waited for her fox to shove forward and fill her with instincts to bond the man, but nothing happened. No chattering, no clawing, no biting or jumping. The little beast didn’t send her a single damn image or emotion.
The fox held still and watched the bear.
Becca swallowed hard, glared at the culprit who pushed her—Rylee! Betrayal!—and clasped her hands behind Nolan’s neck.
He froze for a fraction of a second before he rested his hands lightly on her hips. They held each other as apart and stiff as their first dance in middle school.
“Thank you,” she said to her toes. It was the only thing that came to her at that moment. A gulf existed between them and two words were the tentative steps she could take to bring them closer.
He tucked a finger under her chin and raised her face. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You bought me a new w
ardrobe. You didn’t need to do that.”
“That why you asked me out tonight? To pay me back?”
A touch of offense entered his scent and she frowned. “I was just letting you know where I was going. Thought I’d make your misguided protection gig a little easier.”
“Sweetheart, I’m going to be there for you no matter what. You need something and I’ll do my damnedest to give it to you.”
“Except space or decision making without your input.” She shook her head. “Sorry. Don’t know why I said that.”
“Because I fucked up and you have no filter?” He tucked a curl behind her ear. His fingers traced the outer shell for a second longer than necessary. “I don’t think we know how to be around each other anymore.”
“Ten years will do that.”
“We’re different than we were. Older. Maybe a little wiser. Jury is still out on that one, Miss Fighting House Fires with Extinguishers.”
“Oh, absolutely, Mr. Demanding Neanderthal.” Older? Yeah, she felt that. Wiser? Not so much. She knew how to compartmentalize and kick the hurts and anxieties to the side to pretend she had no cares. Actually handling her shit wasn’t a skill she’d perfected.
“I want to know you again, Becks. I can’t keep steady without you,” Nolan said softly.
She snapped her eyes back to his. Her fox still kept still and silent, but an ache grew in her stomach. She wanted Nolan to feel better. She wanted to feel better. “I can’t take responsibility for that. I don’t know how much I can give you.”
He canted his head and holy balls, his eyes caught too much light. “That’s fair.” His mouth hiked up at the corner. “It’s not a no.”
“It’s not a yes.”
“You’ve said more to me in the last two weeks than in six months. I’m counting it a win.” He turned serious. “I missed you, Becca. I missed this.”
She fought the tears that tried to wet the corners of her eyes. She was not a crier, and she wasn’t about to start.
But damn, she missed him, too.
She just didn’t know what to do with that emotion.
Chapter 14
Nolan rolled his shoulders as soon as he cleared the door. “Who’s next?” he asked Gray, even though he already knew the answer. He was hoping for some miracle to keep them from entering Pierre’s.
Gray had no magic up his sleeve and pointed to the cursive and flourish sign hanging over the patio fenced in by waist-high, embellished wrought iron.
They needed to knock three times before the poor, bedraggled hostess unlocked the door. Pierre could be heard yelling at another victim about using the wrong sauce and never, ever pairing the meal with a red wine.
“Tough morning, huh?” Nolan commiserated.
The woman simply squeaked something about informing Monsieur Pierre of their arrival.
Pierre, formerly Peter Abernathy, ran the fine dining establishment in Bearden. Anniversaries, proposals, even the odd well-to-do teenager treating their prom date all made their way through Pierre’s doors and put up with Pierre’s fake French accent to access his overpriced menu.
Pierre rushed through swinging doors with the air of a man who couldn’t be bothered with what they were selling. Too bad for him. No inspection meant no business. No business meant no taking part in the upcoming summer fair, which would send the gossip flying.
“The fire inspection, oui.” Pierre nodded and straightened his spotless chef’s jacket. He waved his hand. “Proceed.”
Nolan fought to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. The man lived in Bearden, Montana. It was the last place on Earth a professionally trained chef would set up shop.
He and Gray each held pens at the ready and had a list of items to check. Fire alarms, extinguisher inspection, and clear pathways to highly visible emergency exits were just some of the inspection. The kitchen was always an area of concern, and they’d need to make sure no electrical outlets were being overloaded and the cooks could maneuver around without spilling anything where it shouldn’t go.
Underneath the inspection was another purpose for their visit. Callum moved the inspections up to happen before the annual summer festival. If something were to happen while the town was distracted with celebrations when the party started in a few short days, preparedness would save a lot more than broken down gear.
They all hoped their presence would do even more than raising fire safety awareness and spook the firebug into giving up his dangerous habit.
Nolan and Gray took up positions on opposite sides of the restaurant. Pierre hovered between them. Gray reached overhead and tested the first alarm. A loud beep rang through the space.
“It was nice seeing Becca last night,” Gray commented with all the passion of an old farmer talking about the clouds.
Nolan swallowed the growl that started to rumble in his chest. His bear hated, hated, seeing her out on the town with anyone else. He fought so hard and so bad that the clan stepped in. There was some silent agreement to be her escorts. They’d keep her safe and block anyone from getting too close. Even that compromise fucked with his bear. He’d torn into nearly all of his friends because they were out with his mate.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said grudgingly. “My bear is all riled up, I want to bite everything that moves, and I don’t think she’s any closer to accepting me as her mate. It shouldn’t be this complicated.”
He reached overhead and pressed the button to test the alarm. No piercing noise rang through the restaurant. Pierre rung his hands as Nolan made a note on his clipboard.
“Let me get this straight. You knocked this girl up when you weren’t even out of high school, she miscarries and leaves for ten years?” Gray said harshly.
Pain tightening his chest, Nolan nodded. Gray would know. He was there to pick up the pieces and kick Nolan into joining with the Strathorns.
“It sounds every bit as complicated as it should be.” Gray leaned against the emergency exit and backed it open. Another ear-splitting alarm sounded until he pulled the door closed and disengaged the trigger.
He continued after the noise stopped. “You’re right that it shouldn’t be complicated. But your ideal situation where you sweep her off her feet went out the window a long time ago. You need to fight for what you want. Nothing worth having is handed to you.”
They moved into the kitchen where the cooks prepped for the lunch hour. Pierre clapped his hands once and everyone jumped away from their stations to stand shoulder to shoulder at the side of the room. Nolan wondered how often the man pulled that trick.
He crouched down at one end of the large, stainless steel island that ran down the center of the kitchen. No electrical wires crossed the floor as a tripping hazard. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? I’ve been fighting for her and it’s gotten me nowhere. I’m living out of a bag in the damn bed and breakfast because she won’t let me protect her. You saw the fire. You know she got shot. I don’t think either of those were coincidences.”
“Guess it’s time to change tactics, isn’t it? Definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. What did you do different that got her dancing with you?” Gray opened the box mounted to the wall that contained the fire extinguisher. He read the expiration label and made a note.
“It was one song, and she bolted as soon as it was over.”
“Still one more song that you’ve had since she came back.”
Nolan blew out an uncomfortable breath. “I didn’t talk to her. I went where she went because I couldn’t do anything else. It’s ripping me apart to be here right now, by the way. I knew she was still pissed at me, so I just kept to the background.”
“You’re telling me you’re scared of her?” Gray grinned over his shoulder. “She’s what, five-four?
“Five-four of insane fury. I’ll throw you at her next time she gets going. Shit, I think my ass is still blistered from the night of the fire.”
Maybe he should ask B
ecca if she’d like to get dinner at Pierre’s. Girls liked fancy things, and there was nothing fancier in Bearden. He was certain he could make anything better than the man and his squad, but the restaurant would be neutral ground. There was no hope of getting Becca back in his den anytime soon.
It was safe, too. He knew firsthand that Pierre only needed to replace one fire alarm and get an extinguisher recharged. Those were easy tasks that could be done in an afternoon. Hell, he’d do them himself if she agreed.
Both his and Gray’s radios buzzed with activity and Nolan kicked his plans to the back of his head.
“Structure fire in progress,” the dispatcher growled over the crackling radio waves. “Fire department, send units. Police department en route.”
Nolan didn’t have time to wonder how the police were already on the way when they’d heard no reports. He and Gray ran out of the kitchen and through the front of Pierre’s. A short sprint around the corner and across the street landed them inside the engine bay of the firehouse.
The rest of the Strathorns were nearly geared up. Callum didn’t wait for them. He threw himself behind the engine wheel and turned the big beast over.
Nolan and Gray pulled protective pants and jackets over their fire department uniform. They shrugged on their oxygen tanks and tossed everything else inside the cab. Checking levels, tightening cinches, and donning masks could be done on the road.
“Go, go, go,” Cole called when the last of the clan loaded up. He grabbed hold of a bar on the back and heaved himself in.
“What was the address?” Nolan asked.
Hudson leaned back from his seat next to Callum. Worry lined his face as he repeated the numbers.
Ah, fuck. Nolan understood the race and Callum’s grim expression. They were going to Ephraim Strathorn’s home.
Old Man Strathorn’s retirement from the fire department came with retirement from the clan clearing. He shoved himself off to a cozy home on the outskirts of town with enough land to keep him occupied with hunting and fishing when he wasn’t caring for the town in his capacity as Mayor. But all that land was summertime dry and ready to burn.