by T. S. Joyce
“No,” she said.
He took another step, and she shook her head. “Haydan, stop it. I’m serious.”
“Aw, she’s just a wittle piggy, begging for some lovin’. Come on, Cas. Give her a belly scratch.” He lurched around the couch, grinning like a demon when Cassie took off through the kitchen and straight into what looked like the master bedroom. It had to be half the size of the trailer.
Leaping onto the bed, Cassie spun around, then held a pillow out in front of her for protection. “Haydan stop, I mean it. I’m scared of it.”
“Think of her as a dog then. She’s the size of one.” He patted her belly soundly, and Petty wiggled under his affection like an oversized worm. “Forty pounds of cuddling, lazy-ass, television-watching, food-stealing love right here.”
“Does she use the bathroom in here?” It didn’t smell like anything but animal fur, but everybody pooped.
“No, she’s potty-trained. I’ve got an extra wide doggy door on the back. She is a free roamer and does her business out in the yard. Or on Drew’s front porch.” He gave Petty a goofy grin and scratched her oversize belly. “Just wike a good wittle piggy.”
Oh, dear God, his baby talking was slaying her. She fought a smile because this really wasn’t funny. This big old burly, tatted-up grizzly shifter was obviously the doting fur daddy of a pig. A pig! And if Petty was first in his life, well, Cassie was going to have to find a way to fit in with her. Scrunching up her nose, she muttered, “Okay, let me pet her.”
“That’s a brave little black bear.”
“Zip it. Hurry before I change my mind and never visit your den again.”
“How are you fine with Nards, but this tiny, little, baby, microscopic—”
“Forty pound—”
“—pig has you standing on a bed screaming?” He flopped onto the bed, Petty still cradled to his stomach. “Go see momma,” he whispered into her giant floppy ear.
“Dooon’t,” Cassie drawled out. “Don’t call me that.”
Haydan took one of her hooves, flopping happily in the air, and waved it. In a high pitched voice he said, “Mommy!”
She gave him a dead-eyed look. “You’re making me tired.”
“You don’t look tired.”
“I’m really tired now.”
“You don’t smell tired.”
“Give me the pig.”
Haydan smiled sweetly and settled Petty on the bed between them. “Family cuddles.”
Laughter bubbled from her chest, and she tried hard to stifle it. Damn him, she was trying to be serious. Pigs weren’t her gig. People were barely her gig. With a put upon sigh, she closed her eyes and ran her hand over Petty’s belly. “She has, like, a hundred nipples.” She cracked her eyes open as Petty grunted with every breath, her chest heaving under her hand. She was softer than Cassie had imagined she would be. All squishy with sparse blond hair. And her snout was a little cute when it wiggled. And her tail was all curly, and her hooves were really tiny. And when she stopped petting her, Petty wiggled closer and stretched, the little love beggar.
Conceding, Cassie said, “She’s not as hideous as most pigs.”
A grin cracked Haydan’s face. “You love her.”
“I don’t love anything.”
The smile dipped from his face. “Perhaps you don’t yet. But you will.”
Chapter Seven
Haydan gave a private smile as he watched Cassie sleep. She had drifted off mid-sentence, Petty cradled in her arms and her leg thrown over the little pig’s body. His girls looked content all snuggled up together. His girls. Haydan propped up on one elbow and brushed a wayward strand of that golden blond hair out of Cassie’s face so he could see her better. Her dark lashes were so long, they brushed her cheeks as she slept, and her petal pink lips looked soft and inviting, all turned up in a sleepy smile.
Damn, how had he got this lucky?
He hadn’t given much thought to fate before now, but Matt coming to him with Cassie felt too big to be coincidence. She was meant for him.
Inside of him, his bear relaxed even more. The beast was practically purring as he watched his mate sleep in his den.
She was claimed, his, bore his mark, and yet something still niggled at Haydan. It was that uncertainty of loose ends whenever she mentioned her former mate, and her last crew. With a frown, he sat up and pulled his phone from his back pocket. He’d told her he would call Carl and tell him she was claimed, and now the time felt right. After the day they’d had, she was Haydan’s in every way that mattered.
He lifted his phone and took a picture of Cassie and Petty, then sent it to the number Matt had texted him earlier. Standing, he pulled the comforter over Cassie’s legs and padded out of the room, then out of the trailer. Thank God Riley had convinced Damon to get Internet and cell phone service out here for that little furniture business she was running. Haydan didn’t even have to walk up the mountain to dial out anymore.
On the front porch, he locked an arm against the porch railing and made the call.
“Hello?” a gruff voice answered after three rings.
“Did you get my picture?” Haydan asked, glaring at the woods behind the trailer park and trying to contain his rage, at the mental image of this man wrapping his hands around Cassie’s throat. This man had hurt his mate.
“Who the fuck is this?” Carl drawled out.
“I’m Haydan Walker, mate of Cassia Lisa Belle, member of the Ashe Crew, and ally of Damon Daye. Cassie isn’t your potential claim anymore. She bears my mark, and if you ever contact her again, I’ll rip your intestines out through your mouth hole. Are we clear?”
Silence stretched on and on, and Haydan straightened his spine as anger pounded through him. “Are we clear, or do I need to come find your crew and have this discussion face-to-face?”
“We’re clear,” Carl muttered, then the line went dead.
****
A rattling nasal sound dragged Cassie from the deep folds of sleep. She startled awake and stared down in shock at the snoring pig in her arms. Gray evening light showed through the window blinds beside the bed, illuminating the room enough that she could tell Haydan wasn’t here.
Pursing her lips, she peeled her arms away from Petty and slid off the bed. “Haydan?”
“In here,” he called from the other room.
Wiping her bleary eyes, she padded into the kitchen, the laminate floors cold under her bare feet. Haydan must’ve taken her shoes off.
“I fell asleep,” she said unnecessarily.
He was standing in front of the stove with nothing but a pair of gray cotton pants that hung low on his waist. The tattoo she’d been wondering about was an intricate design of curving tribal shapes that covered his upper arm and stretched to his neck. And when he twisted slightly at the waist, she could see the rest of it across his pec. He had washboard abs that flexed with every breath as he turned and allowed her to look. Strips of muscle curved over his hip bones and dove into the low band of his pants. And there was that cocky, sexy smile again. Hot AF Haydan.
“You hungry?”
She inhaled the mouthwatering scent of steak and vegetables but still couldn’t manage to pull her eyes away from him. “How long was I asleep?”
“A few hours. We were talking, but you nodded off mid-sentence.”
“Oh, that’s mortifying. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. It was cute. It gave me a chance to call Carl, and then I took a shower and started cooking dinner.”
Dread landed in her gut and her heart pounded like a drum. “You called Carl?”
“I did.” His eyes went deadly serious. “You don’t have to worry about him ever again.”
Cassie let out the breath she’d been holding. He’d used their time together to sort out a threat from her past, while she’d slept with his pig. Guilt gnawed at her. “We didn’t go see the landing. You wanted to show me where you worked.”
“Hey,” he said, hooking her waist and dragging h
er close. “We can see the landing any time. Getting to relax and talk with you made my day. I can’t even remember laughing so much. Plus, it was so fucking cute watching you sleep all snuggled up to Petty. Admit it, you like her.”
Cassie leaned against his chest and muttered, “I admit nothing.” Though she really did like the little piggy. The critter had just laid there between her and Haydan, absorbing their scratches and pets as they talked over her.
Today had been kind of perfect, and she hadn’t even had sex with Haydan to keep her memories at bay. Astonished and grateful for whatever magic spell he was casting on her, she hugged him closer and sighed as weight was lifted little by little from her shoulders.
“You okay?” he asked, worry in his deep voice.
“Yeah, better than okay.”
“Good.”
A tremendous banging sounded down the side of the trailer. “Stop boinking!” Bruiser called out. “We’re having mattress races, and you’re going to miss the whole thing.”
Cassie’s mouth was hanging open, so she snapped it closed. “What’s mattress racing, exactly?”
“Hell if I know. Probably something Drew thought up.”
“Come on!” Bruiser called.
Haydan sighed an irritated sound. “Let us eat, and we’ll be right out.”
“Fine! I’ll put you on the chart for the last race. Ten minutes, and you’re up. Enjoy eating your maaate!” Bruiser sang out.
“No,” Cassie rushed out. “He’s not eating me—gah!”
Bruiser’s fading laughter made her shake her head in frustration. Ridiculous man thought he was hilarious.
And when she swung around to Haydan, he was snickering as he loaded a plate with food. A low rumbling sounded from outside as Cassie took the offered plate from Haydan’s hands. “What’s that?”
“That would be the crew warming up the four-wheelers. And now I bet I can guess what mattress racing is. Hurry and eat. I can’t handle Denison winning another game. He’s the worst shit-talker you’ve ever met.”
“And you’re going to beat Denison at…mattress racing?”
“No, baby. We are. Team Walker.”
“Is Walker your last name?” she asked, pulling a gallon of milk from his fridge.
Haydan stabbed a slice of zucchini on his plate and frowned. “You didn’t know my last name?”
“Stranger-mate, our life is weird right now. How about Team Walker-Belle. No, Belle-Walker.” She poured a glass and murmured, “Haydan Walker. I like your name.”
When an air horn blasted outside, Cassie jumped, splashing milk on the small two-seater table.
Haydan snorted and tossed a napkin on top of the mess. “Better hurry, princess. Trust me when I say you don’t want Denison to win this event. He won’t shut up until someone comes up with something new to beat him at.”
Mattress racing, apparently, was tying an old mattress to the back of a four-wheeler, then one person holding on as the other teammate drove dangerously fast while racing another two-person team. The victor of each round would be paired up with other winners to race until only one remained to claim the title Trailer Park Champion.
Petty followed closely behind them, grunting loudly as they made their way through the now dark woods. Lanterns had been strung up along the race route, and two four-wheelers were already speeding through the wilderness by the time she and Haydan stopped beside Brooke and Tagan to watch.
Kellen was driving while Skyler held on tight to a mattress being dragged behind his ATV, while Danielle was driving her and Denison’s ride. The roar of the engines echoed through the woods.
“Okay, strategizing time,” Haydan said low near her ear. “You ever driven one of those?”
“No, and I don’t feel comfortable going as fast as we’d need to. I’d worry about you falling off.”
Haydan smiled and pressed his lips against her hairline. “I wouldn’t fall off, princess, but if you’re going to be pokey about it worrying over me, I need to drive. Do you think you can hold on?”
“Hold onto what? The mattresses look bare.”
“There are two handles at the top.”
“Oh.” She frowned at Denison and Danielle in determination. “I can do it. I’ll ride the mattress. Holy shit that is a weird combination of words I never thought I’d say.”
Danielle’s cheering could be heard all the way from here, and she took the ATV back toward the starting line slowly in a victory lap. Denison was crouching, holding onto the rope that attached the mattress to the back of the ATV with his other arm fisted in the air.
Arms crossed, Haydan shook his head and made a clicking sound behind his teeth. “He thinks he’s already won.”
Slipping her arms around Haydan’s waist, Cassie kissed his bicep and snuggled her cheek against his arm. Immediately her mate softened and wrapped his arms around her. “What was that for?” he asked.
She shrugged and inhaled the crisp scent of soap and spicy-smelling body wash from his shower. “Maybe it’s because I like you.”
A soft, satisfied rumble rattled Haydan’s chest, making Cassie practically glow like a lightning bug.
Danielle and Kellen lined the ATVs up at the starting line. Bruiser came jogging over, looking very official and serious, and holding a clipboard. “You two are racing Tagan and Brooke. Winner races Denison, so please, whoever wins this one, kick his ass. If you fall off, your team is disqualified, and at the end, the winner needs to shoot some whiskey before their next race. Any questions?”
Denison was still crowing about him and Danielle’s epic greatness in the background, so Haydan had to lift his voice to ask her, “Are you ready?”
“I think so.”
“I know you have more confidence than that, princess.”
“I’m fucking ready!”
“That’s my girl. Come on.”
He dragged her behind Tagan and Brooke and settled her on the mattress tied to a forest green, mud-caked four-wheeler. Cassie gripped onto the grab handles with all her might as Haydan mounted the ATV and revved the engine with a challenging look for Tagan who was driving the other. “You ready to race, Alpha?”
“You’re going down, Walker,” Tagan said through a competitive sneer.
Brooke, however, was clinging to her mattress looking every bit as nervous as Cassie felt.
“A few seconds, a minute tops, and this will be over,” Cassie called over to her.
Bruiser blasted an air horn and they were off. A scream wrenched up Cassie’s throat as her mattress bobbled over the uneven ground.
“Hang on, princess!” Haydan called as he maneuvered through the trees.
Tagan and Brooke had drifted farther off, then returned through the piney course until they were right beside them again, neck and neck.
Brooke was laughing now, which settled Cassie’s nerves. This wasn’t so bad.
Haydan hit the gas, his own laughter booming through the trees as he and Tagan zoomed through the woods.
The speed sucked the breath out of her and dipped her stomach to her toes. Clods of dirt flew this way and that, so Cassie closed her eyes against the assault. Faster and faster they went, swerving, mattress arching across the ground, bumping and bouncing. She was laughing so hard it was difficult to keep her grip. This was awesome.
The engine noise faded and Haydan slowed down until her mattress came to a stop, creating a small dust cloud. From the way he was clapping and cheering, they’d won.
He pried her clawed fingers from the hand grips and lifted her off her feet, bouncing and celebrating.
“Here, here, here,” Drew said, handing them shots of fragrant whiskey in Dixie cups. “Down the hatch. You’re racing Denison next.”
Cassie clicked the little cup against Haydan’s in a silent toast before they both tilted their heads back and gulped the burning liquid. She winced as it singed her throat all the way down. “Wait, we’re going again right now?”
“Hell, yeah, tough girl,” Drew said, clapping h
er on the back hard enough to rattle her bones.
Okay then. Denison was at the other end of the course, but she could still make out his trash-talking from here. Haydan and Tagan drove her and Brooke back to the starting line, where Brooke dismounted.
She squeezed Cassie’s shoulder as she passed. “Please win this.”
Determination and maybe the second shot of whiskey Drew had made her take steadied her shaking hands. Now it wasn’t so scary because she knew what to expect. Still, she did want to beat Denison, who was shadow boxing beside his ATV and making fft fft sounds.
Deep inside of her, a snarl rumbled.
Haydan turned around on the ATV with wide eyes. The lanterns that hung from low tree branches cast flickering light across the surprise on his face. “Are you growling?”
“Sorry. My bear is feeling all competitive and riled up.”
“Good.” He revved the engine. “That sound in your throat is sexy as hell, Cas. You’ll be cruising for a missionary-style fuck-fest if you keep that up.”
A loud laugh blasted from her as she positioned her hands over the mattress grips. He was joking, but really, missionary style didn’t sound so bad anymore, as long as it was with Haydan. A man like him was worth trying something different for.
The air horn blasted, and Haydan gunned it. Cassie squealed as her stomach dipped to nothing. Leaning her cheek on her outstretched arm, she squinted against the flying dirt and looked at Denison. He had a big old grin plastered on his face as if he and Danielle had already won. Dang him.
“Faster!” she yelled.
Haydan’s reaction was instantaneous as he jammed the gas. Swerving this way and that, barely in control and on the verge of flipping the mattress, Cassie clung to those handles for dear life and hoped with all she had she could hold on until the end.
Her grip strength was slipping from two races back-to-back, but she couldn’t let Haydan down. She wanted that victory shot of whiskey, dammit!
Her fingers loosened, and she growled out her determination to hold on, scrabbling her knees against the old mattress.
Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes as a giant spruce tree came way too close.