by Lynn Hagen
The honest truth? Harmon had followed Brady to the bar. He’d lost his wife in a senseless car accident. A truck had crossed the yellow line and had hit Ellen head-on. He’d been working through his grief and had finally come to a point in his life when he didn’t wake with a heavy weight on his chest.
Most of that weight had been from guilt. He’d loved Ellen, but toward the end their marriage had been strained.
But since discovering that Brady was his mate, that old fear had returned. The fear that Brady would somehow die in a freak accident and be taken from Harmon.
Ellen hadn’t been his mate, but Harmon had cared deeply for her. He couldn’t fathom what he would do if he lost the one person fate had made just for him. Harmon didn’t even know Brady yet—except for the stories Brady’s folks had shared with him over the years—but already he felt a connection to Brady that he’d never felt with Ellen.
“You shouldn’t drink alone,” Brady said. “I came here just to get out of the house. We should drink together. That will make both of us look less like sad souls.”
Harmon arched a brow. “What do you have to be sad about? From what I hear, you have an amazing job and life in Tampa.”
Harmon had heard countless times from the Tryniskis how proud they were of Brady and all that he’d accomplished. He’d found his dream job of being a chef at an upscale restaurant. He lived in a nice community and had tons of friends.
That also made Harmon wonder how long Brady planned on staying. What was he going to do when Brady’s visit was over? Move to Tampa to be with him? Harmon couldn’t imagine living in a big city. Brac Village was his home. He knew everyone, and everyone knew him. Harmon took pride in his little slice of heaven.
“Hey.” Brady raised his beer bottle. “No talk of sadness. Tonight we simply enjoy each other’s company.”
Harmon could think of a few pleasurable ways to enjoy Brady. He just wondered if Brady would be up for it. He had a feeling he would have to gently slide into the conversation, flirt a bit, let Brady know just how gorgeous the little human was, and…Harmon sighed. When was the last time he’d flirted? Ten years ago? He hadn’t been in the singles scene in a decade and felt out of place, like a fish trying to swim on shore.
“Then what do you want to talk about?” Harmon sucked down some of his beer, although he could drink the bar dry and not get drunk. Nonhumans couldn’t become intoxicated off of human alcohol, and besides, he wasn’t much of a drinker to begin with.
“Let me get something stronger and we can talk.” Brady got up and walked to the bar. Harmon looked his mate over, smiling to himself. Brady had a tight little ass in those jeans, and he hoped—although it wouldn’t be realistic—that he got lucky tonight.
But Harmon would be satisfied just being around Brady and getting to know him. It had been over a decade since he’d been with a man, and truthfully, Harmon had missed that aspect of his life. But he’d been faithful to his wife, although the yearning to be with a man had never fully left him.
His chest ached at the thought of her, but Harmon knew he had to move on. He was a bear shifter and would live a very long time. He refused to spend the next couple of hundred years alone.
But now Brady had entered his life, and Harmon looked forward to this new chapter.
Brady returned and set two shot glasses down. Harmon couldn’t get drunk, but he refused the shot. Whiskey always gave him heartburn.
“Your loss.” Brady kicked back both glasses, making Harmon arch a brow.
“Drowning some kind of sorrow?” he asked.
“Nope.” Brady grimaced as he set the empty glasses at the end of the table to be picked up by the waitress.
“So what did you want to talk about?” Harmon sipped his beer, watching his mate.
Brady slapped a hand on the table “Sex. Down-and-dirty sex. You’re hot, and I’m single. Let’s go back to your place and make sheet music.”
Harmon chuckled. Brady was definitely something. He’d take his mate back to his place, but there was no way he was claiming him while he was drunk.
And Brady was well on his way to being shit-faced. “Let’s get out of here.”
Brady looked surprised, as though he hadn’t expected Harmon to take him up on his offer. He nodded and looked around as if he expected someone to object.
Harmon got up and reached for Brady’s hand. It was small compared to his own. Brady scooted out of the booth and swayed slightly, leaning heavily into Harmon for support.
“You’re a lightweight,” he teased.
“Am not.” Brady blinked up at him. “You’re super-duper, gigantic tall.” He blinked several more times. “Aren’t you straight?” Brady shook his head as if to clear it. “Not…not gonna fall for a straight guy. I like my teeth.”
Wow. The guy was already drunk off a beer and two shots. Harmon was amazed at just how wasted the guy was. Then again, Brady didn’t have much body weight to work with.
Harmon had been the one leading Brady to the door, but his mate got ahead of him and tried to drag Harmon along. “What’s the rush?”
“Dick,” Brady said with determination. “And getting some as soon as we’re out of here.”
Harmon didn’t bother telling Brady that there wasn’t going to be any sex tonight. He wanted Brady at his place, sleeping off his drunkenness. Harmon would call Brady’s parents later and tell them where their son was, although he would have a lot of explaining to do about how Brady had gotten to his house in the first place.
Not that Harmon was worried. Brady was a grown man, but he liked his friendship with them and didn’t want any problems.
As soon as they stepped outside, Brady rocked sideways. The cold air hit them both, but clearly it had hit Brady harder. Harmon scooped his mate into his arms before Brady fell over.
“I can walk,” Brady insisted. “I don’t need a man to validate me.”
Harmon had no idea what the guy was talking about, so he ignored the strange statement and tucked Brady into the passenger seat of his truck. They’d work out later about getting his mate’s Prius from the bar parking lot.
When Harmon got into the driver’s seat, he saw Brady still trying to work out the mechanics of how to use his seat belt. He kept trying to click it on but kept missing.
“Let me help.” He batted Brady’s hands away when his mate kept insisting he could do it himself. “We’ll be here all night if I leave this up to you.”
As soon as Harmon pulled from his parking space and hit the main road, Brady was snoring.
* * * *
“I think I really screwed up.” Brady paced the bathroom with his phone stuck to his ear. “I have no idea where I am. I just woke up here, and I don’t even know where my clothes are!”
“Calm down, pumpkin,” Ronny said in a tone that didn’t hold the same panic Brady felt. “You had more than just a beer last night, didn’t you?”
“What does that have to do with me waking up in a house I’ve never seen before?”
“Okay, I’m going to assume that’s a yes. Are you completely naked?”
“No. I still have my underwear on.”
“Hmm. So you may or may not have had a good time. Are you sore in all the right places or all the wrong ones?”
“You’re not helping, Ronny,” Brady said through clenched teeth as he stopped to admire the glass-encased stand-alone shower with three showerheads. Three. He bet whoever owned this house loved taking showers. Brady was half tempted to step into it and take a nice, long hot one.
“I woke up in a bed all alone,” Brady said in loud whisper. He was afraid to find out who he’d gone home with. When he drank, everyone looked good to him. For all Brady knew, he’d gone home with a troll. “You know that’s my host’s way of saying that we had fun but it’s time for me to leave.”
“Then leave.”
“I don’t know where my clothes are,” Brady stressed. “They weren’t on the bedroom floor.” He sat down on the dark wooden bench that looked
as though it had been carved right into the wall. Wow. This was nice. Brady could imagine himself spending hours in here pampering himself. There was even a large garden tub on the far side of the wall, a counter that ran the length of the wall, and there was even a walk-in linen closet. Talk about fancy. Brady’s apartment was around six hundred square feet, and his bathroom was the size of a broom closet. Not even the bathroom at his parents’ house was this nice.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Ronny asked.
Brady crossed his legs as he tried to jog his memory. He recalled eating at his parents’ house then needing to get away. He’d gone to Black Forest, had gotten a beer, saw Harmon at a booth, and…Harmon!
“Oh god,” Brady groaned.
“What?” Ronny asked.
“I think I just slept with my dad’s friend.” Brady pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead.
Ronny burst out laughing. “You slept with an old man?” He kept hooting out loud. “Oh fuck. This is priceless. I’m sorry. I know this is serious, but you slept with someone old enough to be your dad? Did you have to help him get it up? Were his balls hanging to his knees?”
“I’m going to kill you when I see you,” Brady threatened. “And Harmon is a lot younger. I think he’s in his late thirties.”
Brady’s head snapped up when a knock sounded on the door. “I gotta go. Remind me to kill you later.” He hung up and stood. “Just a minute.” Brady did not want to face Harmon.
“Breakfast is ready.” Harmon’s voice was deep and smooth, and oh god, Brady wanted to get fucked by his dad’s friend. This had disaster written all over it. “Your clothes have been laundered if you want to take a shower afterward.”
After taking a deep breath for courage, Brady opened the door, but Harmon was gone. That gave him a few more seconds before he had to face the guy.
Okay. Brady wasn’t gonna run and hide like some scared kid. He was gonna own what they’d done. Strangers had sex all the time. It was no big deal. It wasn’t as though he’d screwed around with a guy who used a walker or smelled like pain cream. Harmon was a good-looking guy with a deep, sexy voice. The guy still looked as though he was in shape. He was tall, muscular, and had pretty eyes.
Brady could’ve done a lot worse last night. So why on earth was he still hovering by the bathroom door?
The smell of bacon made Brady follow the scent. His stomach rumbled as he looked around at Harmon’s house. The décor was a mixture of masculine and feminine. The living room had a large, overstuffed couch, nice wooden floors, a river rock fireplace, and three bookshelves stuffed to the gills with paperbacks and hardcovers. The ceiling was vaulted with thick wooden beams, and there were area rugs scattered about.
It looked more like a lodge than a home.
Brady found his way to the kitchen and was taken aback at how rustic, yet modern it looked. Harmon was at the counter adding toast to their plates. Brady sat at the four-chair table and curled one leg against his chest. “Good morning.”
Harmon looked over his shoulder and smiled. That grin punched Brady right in his queasy gut. Why did the guy have to be so freaking hot? Brady had never been into older guys, yet there was something about Harmon that flipped every trigger he had.
You’re here to find a job and a place to stay, not start some kind of booty call service. Brady suddenly remembered something from last night. He’d demanded sex from Harmon. God, could he be any more mortified? “Did we…um…did you and I…”
“Hide the sausage?” Harmon chuckled as he brought their plates to the table.
That wasn’t exactly how Brady would’ve put it, but… “Yeah. Did we do that?” Harmon went back to the counter and brought back two steaming bowls of grits. “Hon, if you and I had done anything, you better be damn sure you would’ve felt it this morning. Now eat up.”
Why was Brady suddenly horny? He’d panicked thinking he’d had sex with his dad’s friend, yet all Brady could do was sit there stuck on stupid as he stared at Harmon.
Harmon reached across the table and tapped under Brady’s chin. “Close your mouth. It’s hanging wide open.” He winked, and Brady should’ve melted into a puddle of goo on the kitchen floor.
Whereas last night and first thing this morning Brady was mortified at the thought of sleeping with Harmon, he was now considering the possibility. The guy might hang with Brady’s dad, but Harmon was considerably younger.
Brady caught himself sighing as he sat there checking Harmon out. He imagined what the guy would look like naked, and wasn’t that a wonderful sight?
“Is my food that bad?” Harmon pointed his fork to Brady’s untouched plate.
Brady finally ripped his eyes away from Harmon and dug into his food. Oh hell. The guy was hot as fuck and could cook. Brady ate like a ravenous man, stopping every so often to chew the large portion in his mouth, sucking down gulps of orange juice between bites.
Harmon grinned. “Now that’s more like it.”
If the guy only knew what his smile did to Brady. He set his fork aside and swallowed the last of his food. “So what happened last night?”
Brady sucked in a breath when Harmon slid the fork from between his lips. If only that had been Brady’s cock instead. His heart rate was growing harder, and his body was feeling tight. Brady curled his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out and touching Harmon.
“You passed out as soon as I pulled away from the bar. I stripped you down to your boxers when we got here and poured you into my bed.” He shrugged. “Wish I had something more interesting to tell you, but I’m not the kind of guy who takes advantage of drunken men.”
Brady slid his tongue along his bottom lip and said, “You’re more than welcome to take advantage of me now.”
Chapter Five
“Something is definitely going on,” Hawk said as he entered Maverick’s office the next morning. “Who the hell up and leaves their kid at a rec center? And there was some short stranger in the basement who vanished when I grabbed him.”
Maverick kicked his booted feet onto his desk as he pulled at his soul patch. “Her parents weren’t at home?”
Hawk dropped into the chair in front of Maverick’s desk. “There was something off about that place. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but…it didn’t feel real.”
Hawk had been alive for far too long not to listen to his instincts, and they were screaming that there was more to this than met the eye. The house felt like a prop. There had been nothing personal about it. Also, he hadn’t seen dust anywhere, no dirty spots on the walls, or anything to indicate a child lived there. When there had been kids running around the Den, Nero had constantly wiped crayon marks off walls and cleaned up spills. Toys were always underfoot and drawings pinned to the fridge.
North’s house had felt almost sterile.
“I’ll call Lewis in here. He can start an investigation.” Maverick pulled his feet down and picked up his office phone.
Hawk was relieved that their resident detective would be handling this. He just wanted what was best for North, and right now her being at home wasn’t for the best.
That house had creeped him out, and Hawk wasn’t easy to spook.
He got up and walked out as Maverick spoke on the phone. He found Johnny in the den, showing North off like she was his own kid. Hawk groaned. He didn’t want Johnny to get the wrong idea of why they’d brought her home, but he knew his pretty baby. There was nothing he could say that would sway his mate right now.
“And we almost peed ourselves,” Johnny told Keata. His mate still hadn’t let North’s hand go since they’d woken up. “The kitchen was so creepy.”
“She’s so cute,” Keata said as he patted North on her head. “Can I give her a cookie?”
“She’s not a dog.” Johnny scowled.
“But you don’t feed dogs cookies,” Keata pointed out.
“We’re gonna get some hot chocolate.” Johnny smiled down at her. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”
>
North nodded.
Hawk smiled. He hadn’t seen his mate this enthusiastic in a long while. He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms over his chest, remembering when he’d first brought Johnny home. His mate had been shy, but excitable, always trying to please. Hawk was happy with how well Johnny had grown into himself. He was now confident, unafraid to speak his mind, and his pretty baby had blossomed like a nurtured flower.
There wasn’t anything Hawk wouldn’t do for him, but North belonged to someone else, and he needed to get that through his mate’s head.
“Why don’t I take her to the kitchen to get something to eat?” Hawk said as he pushed away from the wall. “I’m sure George would love to make her some breakfast.”
“But…” Johnny looked from Hawk to North, uncertainty in his eyes. “But I like being with her. She’s my responsibility.”
Hawk sighed. It might already be too late. Johnny had grown way too attached to her, and Hawk prayed Johnny didn’t suffer a broken heart when she had to leave.
Now he knew how Maverick had felt when Cecil had found Khaos in that snowbank. And Cecil had protected Khaos like a mama bear. Johnny would do the same, too. Hawk saw now that he’d have a battle ahead of him.
“Plus”—Johnny’s smile lit up Hawk’s heart—“I promised I’d show her my secret collection.”
“What secret collection?” Keata asked from behind Johnny. “You never told me about it.”
“Well, duh,” Johnny said. “It ain’t no secret if I told you.”
“Fine, don’t tell me about it.” Keata stormed from the room but stopped long enough to smile at North. “Later, I’ll show you my secret collection.”
“Your comic books?” Johnny asked.
“Yes,” Keata sniffed as he left the den. “And you’re not allowed to see them.”
“I’ve seen them a dozen times!” Johnny shouted after him.
Hawk grinned. He truly loved his mate, but all the small mates held a special place in his heart. He’d protect every last one of them with his life.