by T. S. Joyce
“Gage,” Boone said from beside her, giving her the strangest look, “is at the station tonight. His mate, Leah, and my ma are watching the cubs so we could all get a night out together.”
“You have cubs?”
Why was he staring at her like she’d lost her mind?
“Oh, you mean Cody’s cub, Aaron. I said that right, right? Humans call them cubs, too? Shit. Shoot.” Cora pursed her lips and blinked hard. “I swear, your interviews will go much smoother. Boone did tell you about them?”
Cody, alpha of the Breck Crew, was grinning now, and her embarrassment went bone deep. She was screwing everything up, and this wasn’t like her! She was the calm one under pressure. It was Boone’s fault for doing that sexy thing to her ear, then sending her to meet his family. Double oaf.
“He told us, and I think it’s a good idea. We could use some good PR, especially after today.”
“Why? What happened today?” Cora looked from Cody to Dade to Boone, whose eyes went vacant as he shut down completely on her. How was it so easy for him to flip the switch like that?
“It’s really nice to meet you,” Quinn said, standing up from the large, round table and offering her hand. She looked much better than the last time Cora had seen her at the town hall when she’d defended the Breck Crew in front of a line of national news crews. She had color in her fair cheeks, and her auburn hair was shinier and longer. Fear didn’t live in her gray-sky eyes anymore. She’d grown stronger over the last couple of months, though how much of that was from healing her injuries, or how much was from the new bear inside of her, Cora hadn’t a guess.
Cora shook her hand with a grateful sigh that the woman had saved her from rambling further.
“It’s nice to finally talk to you in person,” Rory, Cody’s fiery red-headed mate said with a bright smile. “You’ve kind of been circling our family as we’ve come out, and I just wanted to let you know that your support has meant a lot to our crew. You’ve been rallying people.”
“You’ve seen the website?” Now Cora was really blushing. She’d created the site to host the facts she’d researched, the video of their coming out, and the filming at the town hall where the crew had spoken publicly for the first time. But honestly, since the move to the condo, she hadn’t moderated it much.
“Yeah, we’ve all popped onto the forums to answer questions over the past couple of days,” Quinn said. “We figured it was a good place to start to dispel the rampant rumors. It is currently the most shifter-positive site we’ve been able to find on the web, so thank you for setting that up.”
“Sorry about the trolls,” Cora said, taking an offered seat between the two women. “I try to limit the hate posts, but I haven’t been on there much in the last few weeks. Life got…complicated.” Meaning Eddie-The-Cheating-Butt-Face had made her life complicated, and the internet at the condo was patchy.
Cody leaned forward, steely gaze steady, honesty pooling in his eyes when he said, “Well, you have proven to be one of our best allies over the past couple of months. You were the one who told me to stop talking to the public after Dade Changed Quinn, when our emotions were all running high, and I know you did that to protect my crew. And you didn’t have to do that. You must’ve been shocked along with the rest of the public when Quinn Turned in front of everyone.”
“Yeah, I was definitely there with my cameraman to report on the veterinary clinic fire, not hide behind a fire engine from a bunch of grizzly-people.”
“Bear shifters,” Boone said softly, settling into a chair across the table from her. “Say it.”
“Bear shifters,” she repeated in a quiet voice. The bar was loud, but she knew how good their hearing was.
Boone nodded slowly, his eyes thoughtful, as if he’d enjoyed the way she said what he was. A chill brushed up her spine. “I think I need another drink.” Something stronger, like rotgut whiskey or absinth.
“I got you,” Boone said in a deep, rumbly voice that brushed over her skin with the promise that he did.
After he stood and sauntered over to the bar, Cora chugged the rest of her beer and gave into the Keller boys goading her into a game of darts. She sucked at darts, but after Quinn sank the first one deep into the wall outside the target, Cora felt better. At least she could make it into the outer ring of the circle.
Three turns, and Boone was back with a tray of amber-colored shots. He handed her the first, his eyes intent on hers, daring her to turn it down. Not one to shy away from a challenge, she took it from his hand, but murmured, “Keller, I have a public image to maintain, just like you do.”
His eyes narrowed at the surname, but she was going to push it until he explained what a handler was. As the others gathered around the table, she sniffed at the shot glass. Whiskey if the burn in her nose was spot on. She didn’t know why, but she was glad Boone hadn’t ordered her a panty-dropper fruity shot and, instead, had trusted her to keep up with him and his family.
“To Cora, the Breck Crew’s truest friend,” Boone said.
Deep ache bloomed in her chest, but she ignored his attempt to remind her where she ranked here—outsider, not family, not crew—other. She gave him a stiff smile and clicked the bottom of the tiny glass on the table with the rest of them, then downed it and winced at the burn of the scorching liquor.
She laughed as Dade gave her a high-five. Quinn complained loudly at Boone’s tastes in shots, but she was grinning like she was having the best time of her life. Snatching the darts from Cody’s hand, Rory took her turn at the board while Dade made his way to the bar, probably for more shots.
“You smell different,” Boone said from so close behind her, she could feel his warmth spreading across her shoulder blades.
“Oh? Can you smell irritation?”
“Is that what that is? Mmm,” he murmured. “I thought it was arousal.”
“Stop sniffing me,” she said, spinning and smacking him soundly on the arm.
Boone’s blond brows shot up. “Do that again?”
The first tingles of a good buzz were spreading through her lips, a sure sign she should slow it down on the booze. “No.”
“Do it.”
Admittedly, it did feel good to smack him, so she did it again. Boone laughed a disbelieving sound and looked down. Cora followed his gaze to the seam of his pants, which seemed to be constraining a rather sizable dick. Long and thick and definitely hard.
“Boone Keller, did you just get a boner?”
“No one’s ever slapped me like that before.”
“What?” Cora lowered her voice as she tried to stop the laughter that bubbled up the back of her throat. “Don’t be weird.”
He leaned on locked arms on the table and stared at her, grinning.
“Boone Festus Keller, make it go away. People have camera phones.” God, she couldn’t stop giggling. “I just made up your middle name, by the way.”
“I could tell. It’s Leland. Family name. All my brothers’ middle names are the same.” He looked down at his crotch again with a big dumb grin. “I don’t give a shit about camera phones.”
“You should.”
“Feel it. Woman, you got me really hard.”
“Stop it.”
“I’m serious.” He leaned forward and dared her, “Feel my dick.”
“Boone, I already told you I have an image to maintain. I’m not going to touch your dick in public.”
“In public,” he repeated.
“Or anywhere else,” she said, lifting her chin primly. “I’m unaffected by you.”
“Oh yeah? You want me to take you into that hallway over there and show you just how affected by me you can be?”
“I don’t even know what that means.” Her words were breathy and faint now.
Boone leaned over and took another shot from a tray Dade was carrying. “You want?”
“More whiskey? I don’t want to steal yours.”
“I’m cutting myself off before I get us both into more trouble than we need
tonight.”
Cora narrowed her eyes so hard, Boone’s crooked grin went blurry. She snatched the shot from his hand, sloshing just a drop, then tipped it up and gulped it down. With a screw-you arch to her brow, she set the empty back on the table. “I don’t know what that means either, Boone Leland Keller.” Oh, her words were beginning to slur now.
Boone straightened his spine with his arms crossed over his chest, indecision warring over his features as his gaze dipped to her mouth. Slowly, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. Shocked to her core, Cora went rigid. Boone’s fingertips brushed softly up her bare arm, over her collar bone, up her neck, where he cupped her with his warm hand. His lips softened and parted against hers, and his tongue brushed the closed seam of her mouth. Angling his head, he moved his frame closer, making her feel all warm and safe, as if they were the only ones in the room. With a moan, she opened slightly for him, allowing him to taste her as her belly filled with a tingling sensation that nearly locked her legs. Boone eased back, but leaned into her again with a sexy pluck of her lips, then leaned back again. With a wicked grin, he pulled her arms around his neck, then wrapped her up in a strong embrace and lowered his lips beside her ear.
“If I took you in that hallway, slid that sexy little dress up your thighs, and pulled your soaking panties to the side. If I slid my finger in you and let you fuck my hand, would you be affected by me then?”
Cora let off a shuddering, incomprehensible noise. “Yes. Please?” The hallway suddenly sounded like the happiest place on earth.
Boone’s lips skimmed the oversensitive skin on her neck. He smiled against her skin there. “You’re tipsy, and fooling around while drinking isn’t my move.”
“You gave me the shots.” She was pouting.
“Yeah,” he said, backing away. He sauntered over to the dartboard and said over his shoulder, “And now we’re both safe from each other.”
Cora glared at his stupid, sexy head and leaned heavily on the table beside her. Boone, that ass, had drawn her inner goddess from her, got her revved up hotter than a muscle car, and then batted her away like a cat toying with a mouse. The hormone dump to her system left her shaky and weak, and her nerve endings between her legs were firing double-time. Three strokes, and he could’ve had her.
Pissed at being teased, she grabbed her purse and swallowed down the rampant disappointment spiraling through her middle.
“Hey,” Dade called, “you aren’t leaving, are you?”
She cast a glance over her shoulder and shook her head. “I just need a minute.” Stupid voice as it cracked with emotion. Boone was too deep in her head. It wasn’t Boone the animal that was dangerous to her. It was Boone the man who was conjuring the ability to wreck her completely.
The bathroom was one of those lockable, single-room numbers, thank goodness, because she was in serious jeopardy of crying. Boone had done that. Normally, she was the happiest drunk on the planet, yet here she was feeling toyed with and emotional.
She didn’t have to use the restroom, but she couldn’t go back out there until she was in complete control of her mental facilities again, so she checked her email on her phone. Nothing would settle her raging hormones faster than work messages from her producer. She had contacts all over the area, and three had sent her tips on news stories today. The first two were easy to ignore, a cat had a two-headed kitten and the other was a liquor store burglary that went wrong. The last, however, caught her attention with the title of the email.
Your Bears Lost a Person Today.
Frowning as a heaviness filled the pit of her stomach, she opened the email and read it as fast as her eyes could scan the words. House fire…Fairplay, Colorado…one woman rescued, husband lost to the blaze…all Kellers at the scene…
That’s why Boone had said he’d had a shit day. That’s why Cody had mentioned they needed good PR after a day like today. A failed rescue, and Boone hadn’t once mentioned it. That’s how much she meant to him. Not enough to share a single real thing about himself.
“Cora, let me in,” Boone said from the other side.
Horrified, she shoved her phone back into her purse. “Fuck off, Keller.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. Please, just let me in.”
“I’m taking a piss.”
“No, you aren’t. I can hear everything, remember? No peeing, only sniffling, and now I feel like a total dick.”
Ding, ding, ding. Winner, winner, werebear dinner.
Cora locked her arms on the sink and glared at her reflection in the mirror. Damn, she’d dressed up for this. Shaking her head, she wiped her damp lashes with a paper towel, mentally patted herself on the back that no tears actually fell for that triple oaf. Determined to blow past him, she threw open the door.
“No, wait,” he drawled out, easing her back into the bathroom. “Talk to me.”
“Okay,” she said as he turned and locked the door behind him. “You have a filthy mouth. Which I realize I like, but you play head games with me, and I hate it. Hate. It. My ex cheated on me, made me feel like crap, and dragged my self-esteem through the mud. Now the guy I’m interested in can’t stay interested in me back for more than thirty seconds. I haven’t ever had an orgasm with a man, and I know that’s too much information, but there it is. And you almost draw one from me just by kissing me, but then you shut me down if I react, and dammit, I’m tired of being shut down, Boone.” A sob lodged in her throat, but she stomped her heel hard onto the tile floor and bit her lip to stop it from emerging. Boone did not deserve to see her break down. “If you don’t want me, don’t tease me. You’re the one always putting me in the stupid friend-zone, and I get it. You aren’t ready for a relationship, and not one with me. Fine. Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, but don’t play with me anymore. And if you can’t help yourself, or if you are one of those arrogant pricks who needs a woman they aren’t interested in to fawn all over him, then I don’t think we should be friends anymore. I’ve done that relationship before, remember? I got really hurt.”
Boone heaved a sigh and leaned back against the paper towel dispenser with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Then what are we doing? This,” she said, pointing back and forth between them, “feels like more than friendship.” Her voice dipped lower as she rested her back against the opposite wall. “I don’t think that friends is working for me.”
Boone ran his hands through his hair. His eyes had lightened to a strange color, and the smile he’d donned earlier was nowhere to be seen now. “Friends is all I can do, Cora. It’s that or nothing.”
She swallowed the heartache down. “Friends actually share important parts of their lives.”
Boone canted his head slightly, his arms flexing as he crossed them harder over his chest. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry, Boone. I’m not asking you anything about your bear shifter shit. I just got an email that told me about the fire today. I have to report this stuff in the news. You remember that, right? Were you just going to wait until I found out about it at work tomorrow? When I was going to have to report on the fire that you failed to mention, even though we hung out the whole night before?”
“There’s nothing to say.” His voice was soft and dangerous with the edge of a growl she’d never heard before. His eyes had lightened further to a green-gold color.
She nodded slowly. “Of course there’s not. I don’t want to do this anymore. Thank you for the flowers. That was really nice of you, but we don’t feel the same way about each other, and I like to think I’m smart enough to learn from my mistakes. Excuse me,” she whispered, opening the door beside him.
Cora walked away from him, out the door without another word. She said her goodbyes and nice-to-meet-yous to the others in the Breck Crew and made her way out of the bar.
Tonight had started out so promising but had ended with such bitter disappointment.
“Buck up, girl,” she whis
pered to herself as she made her way down the cold, empty street.
Grandma Ruth didn’t raise no complainer.
Chapter Six
Cora wrapped her arms around her middle a little tighter to ward off the cold. Her shoes dangled from two fingers, and her purse was clutched in the other as she made her way toward Main Street. Right about now, it was so frigid out, she was wishing her buzz hadn’t worn off with that sobering conversation she had with Boone in the bathroom.
The rumbling sound of an old engine approached from behind her, but she ignored it and kept walking.
Boone’s old truck slowed to a crawl beside her, but still, she kept up her pace.
“Cora, can we talk?” he asked out his open window.
“We already did that, and like I told you then, I don’t need any of this.”
“Look, I’ve gone twenty-eight years without talking to anyone about my life. It’s not easy to turn that off. If I mess up and say the wrong thing, my crew will pay for it. Will suffer for it. Hell, they could die from it. For chrissakes, Cora, you’re a reporter.”
“Yeah, and I’m also a loyal human being, Boone.” She turned and faced his truck, furious at his lack of trust. “I’ve given you no reason not to trust me, but you still treat me like I’m going to sell you and your family out at any moment. Have I ever done anything to jeopardize your crew? I was the first to defend them, at the risk of my career. You know what? Forget it. I’m tired and cold, and I don’t want to have this conversation anymore. I don’t enjoy talking myself in circles. It makes me want to break things.”
“At least let me give you a ride. If you don’t, I swear I’ll follow you the entire way home.”
With a pathetically human-sounding growl, she stomped to the passenger’s side and climbed in, then buckled her seatbelt. “Happy?”
“No,” he said, reaching in the back seat of his truck. “I pissed you off, or hurt you, or both. I made you cry, so no, I’m not happy.”
He pulled a jacket over her lap, one that smelled of him and the rich scent of animal fur. Then he turned the heat up to full blast and pulled over on the side of the road.