Boarlander Boss Bear

by T. S. Joyce

  “Yoo-hoo,” a tiny red-headed woman who led the way through the bath house doors called. She wore an oversize tote bag and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on top of her head like a headband. She carried what looked like a giant canvas as the others filed in behind her, talking and cutting up.

  “Audrey Foster, I’m Willa, also known as Almost Alpha of the Gray Backs, or Willa Wonka, or Nerd. This beefcake is not my man servant,” she said pointing to a huge, shirtless, scarred-up, sandy-haired bruin beside her. “He is my mate, Matt, also known as Griz.”

  Matt waved and grinned. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “You have?” Audrey asked. “From who?”

  “From Willa. She kind of dated you.”

  “I’m super confused,” Audrey murmured as she watched the group peel out of their shoes and pass around beers from the cooler.

  “I might have accidentally set up a website and flirted with you a lot, then invited you up here to meet Harrison.”

  Audrey gasped as red hot fury blasted through her. “That was you? Why did you do that?” Her voice had gone shrill, but frick it all, she was pissed.

  “So you could meet the man of your dreams, and he could meet you,” Willa said in a voice that said it should’ve been obvious. “I’ve brought you presents to buy your love and apologize. First…” Willa flipped around the canvas in her hands. “I took a painting class from the first lady of the Ashe Crew, Mrs. Brooke James herself, and I made this just for you.”

  The painting was of a terrible, uneven rainbow in a blue sky with a tiger and a bear holding hands in a meadow of eye-scorching neon flowers and worms. One of the bear’s eyes was much bigger than the other, and the tiger was skipping on legs that were way too short.

  “That looks like a first grader painted it,” Harrison muttered.

  “Thank you. Next, I have brought you a fine batch of worms.” Willa handed the painting to Matt, and he traded her for a cardboard container with a lid on it. She flipped her hand around in circles, then bowed. She plucked the lid off, exposing a mass of slimy earthworms writhing around in a lump of black dirt. “You may use them for fishing, but they make better pets.” She pointed to each of the worms in turn. “This one is Norma Dean Wiggles-Too-Much, there’s Beatrice the Great, Handsy Thomas, Chuck the Perv, Princess Butter-Nipples, and Steven.”

  “Thank you?” Audrey said, trying not to scrunch up her face in disgust.

  “And lastly, a fruity beer, because when we were online dating, I remember you told me that was your favorite.” Willa handed her a purple pomegranate brewsky and grinned brightly. “And now for my apology. Prepare thyself.” She inhaled deeply, then murmured, “You’re welcome for my matchmaking services.”

  “That was literally the worst apology in the universe,” Harrison said.

  “That’s ridiculous. Have you heard every apology in the universe?”

  Audrey took the beer from Willa’s hand and said, “I guess since it turned out okay, I forgive you.”

  “Great.” Willa waved gallantly to the people slipping into the hot springs. “These are the Gray Backs. Or most of them. Damon and Clara are at home because she just pooped out a baby, and they’re on babysitting duty for Creed’s rug rat. Mason isn’t here because he’s packing to move to one of the lovely shit-shacks in Harrison’s trailer park tomorrow. That’s Creed,” she said pointing to the dark-haired giant closest to them. “Gia, Georgia, Jason, Aviana,” she said, pointing to the pregnant woman who had saved Audrey from standing in the long line at Sammy’s. “And that scary beary back there,” Willa said, pointing to the wild man with the glowing eyes who limped along the edge of the hot spring, “is Beaston. Don’t get too close to him. He bites.” Willa waggled her eyebrows.

  “You shouldn’t tell her that. I don’t bite.”

  “You Changed me, didn’t you?”

  “One time, and you broke my leg.”

  “Beaston,” Jason said, hugging Georgia at the edge of the water, “it doesn’t make sense when you say you Changed her one time. It only takes one bite.”

  “Anyway, I believe you met Bash and Clinton. I can tell because Clinton was reciting love poems about you the entire drive here.”

  “I was bitching about her,” Clinton said grumpily from the chair he’d plopped into beside the spring.

  Bash jumped in, cannon-ball-style, splashing them all, and when he came up for air, he had a big goofy grin on his face. He shook his head like a dog and said, “I like Audrey.”

  Harrison growled when Bash swam too close, and Audrey stifled the giggles that were ready to bubble up her throat.

  Beaston sat on the edge beside Aviana, dipping his feet in, his hand on the swell of his mate’s stomach. “Audrey is going to bleed you, Clinton,” he said blandly.

  Willa snickered and eased herself over the edge and into Matt’s arms. “When you do, invite me. I’ll bring turkey jerky and green M&Ms. That bunion made the entire drive here miserable.”

  “Well, Audrey’s presence here makes me miserable, but no one seems to care—”

  “Shut up, Clinton,” the Gray Backs, Bash, and Harrison all said at once.

  Audrey took a deep drink of her fruity beer to keep her laughter inside as everyone went back to talking.

  The night wore on, and the air was filled with constant chatter and laughter. One by one, the Gray Backs talked to her and shook her hand. She was three beers deep before she felt overheated and sat on the edge of the pool with Aviana and Beaston. Harrison settled between her legs, shootin’ the shit with Creed and Georgia, and every once in a while he would turn his face and kiss the inside of her knee and go back to talking without missing a beat, as if he didn’t realize he was giving her the affection.

  Eventually, Georgia climbed up on Jason’s back and chicken-fought Willa and Matt, which was hilarious, because those bear shifters under the women weren’t going down for anything. It was twenty minutes before they called it a draw and swore to never play again.

  “Look,” Aviana whispered, pointing to her belly. She wore a black bikini, and her round belly was rolling strangely.

  “The baby is moving?” Audrey whispered in awe.

  “Yeah, you want to feel him?”

  Audrey locked eyes on Aviana’s to make sure she wasn’t teasing, but she looked serious enough, and Beaston moved his hand to the other side of her belly to make room for Audrey’s palm. With a nod, she touched right over where the baby rolled languidly. How incredible to feel life so new.

  “He’ll be a raven,” Aviana murmured, dragging Audrey’s hand to chase the movement.

  “How do you know?”

  “My mate dreamed it, and he’s never wrong.” Aviana cocked her head in a very bird-like fashion and pitched her voice low. “You will bleed Clinton.”

  Audrey jerked her gaze to where Clinton sat on a lounge chair, his eyes glowing eerily in the single porch light of the bathhouse. He was staring at her, as if he’d heard Aviana’s prediction.

  “That’s not what I want,” Audrey said.

  “Don’t want to, but need to,” Beaston murmured low. “Change needs to happen. For you, but also for him.” Beason twitched his chin at Harrison, who was laughing at something Matt said.

  Fixing anything with bloodletting was the most barbaric thing she’d ever heard, and goose bumps lifted over her body as she pulled her hand off Aviana’s belly. The next time she looked up, Clinton wasn’t sitting in the lounge chair anymore. He was making his way through the parking lot toward Harrison’s truck with long, deliberate strides, as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  A vision of her sitting beneath the Boarland Mobile Park sign in the form of her white tiger flashed across her mind like lightning. From where she sat, a long, steaming fissure broke the earth and created a yawning chasm between Harrison and Bash on one side and Clinton on the other.

  She could suddenly see them—the spider web of cracks Harrison had talked about in the Boarlander Crew.

  F
or reasons she couldn’t understand, Audrey suddenly got the feeling she would be the biggest one of all.

  Chapter Eight

  Harrison ripped the cord of the chainsaw and lowered his sunglasses over his eyes. Settling the blade into the dead bark of the beetle-infested tree, he cut out a wedge and stepped nimbly out of the way when the wind pushed it close to him as it fell.

  “Number!” Bash called from sixty yards away where he’d just felled a tree of his own.

  “Thirty more,” Harrison said, wiping the number out of his head so he could start over.

  Bash was an anomaly. He was a simple man with simple desires, but he was borderline genius with numbers. He didn’t keep notes. He just remembered every calculation at the end of each shift. It was he who had invested their money and built their retirement accounts. Harrison didn’t talk about that stuff with people. Probably everyone thought he and his crew were trash, but even with half his crew cutting out early and taking their shares, he, Bash, and Clinton did all right for themselves, thanks to Bash’s instincts for the market and care with investments.

  Bash was also the one who’d dug every bullet out of his body when the poachers had gotten to him. He hadn’t said a word, just reached Harrison first, settled him back, and went to work with this look on his face like he would be good-goddamned if he was going to lose his alpha that day. That was the night Bash had called him his best friend and went to battle with three members of the crew whose animals were scrambling to take Harrison out for alpha when he was too weak to do it himself. He was here because of Bash, but that bear didn’t like mush and compliments. The best gift Harrison could give him for his loyalty was permission to claim a mate and bring her into the park. Bash wanted nothing more, and now, Harrison felt that yearning, too.

  Audrey had changed everything.

  Yesterday had been one of the best days of his life. He’d become hopeful. His burden had been lightened when he’d laid some of it on her shoulders, and she was a strong woman. She had carried that load with grace and had given him the same advice Creed and Tagan, alpha of the Ashe Crew, had been trying to tell him for months. But it all had made more sense when she’d said it.

  He’d found his queen, and that thought scared the shit out of him and excited him at the same time.

  Go after the life you want.

  Harrison killed the chainsaw and clipped out, “Bash! Clinton! Let’s call it a day.”

  “Yeah, boss,” Bash said, like he did every time a shift ended.

  Wordlessly, Clinton turned his chainsaw off then pulled his earmuffs off his head and settled them around his neck.

  “Six hundred forty-three,” Bash reported in, wiping the sweat of his brow on his arm as he caught up to Harrison. “Pathetic. Damon won’t be happy. We’re holding up the Ashe Crew’s next jobsite. At this rate”—he swung his gaze down the mountain and tallied in his head—“they’ll be sittin’ around for a week before we have this place cleared for them.”

  Harrison made a ticking sound. He hated letting the dragon down. Hated. It. Damon had done so much for the inhabitants of his mountains, and he deserved the best from every crew. The Boarlanders weren’t pulling their weight. “We’ll have Kirk and Mason with us tomorrow, and we’ll work until sundown. We’ll catch back up as best we can, but for now, I have to be there when the new crew members move in, and I need to talk to you and Clinton.”

  “Crew meeting?” Bash asked, his jet-black eyebrows jacking up.

  Harrison ducked his chin once and switched his chainsaw to his other hand as he climbed over the freshly cut trees on the steep hillside toward his truck.

  “Crew meeting!” Bash called to Clinton, who was falling behind.

  “Yeah, I heard,” he muttered.

  Clinton was going to lose his crap today, but this had been coming for a long time.

  Harrison lowered his tailgate and set his chainsaw in its case while Clinton and Bash did the same with theirs. He peeled off his sweat-soaked white T-shirt and tossed it in the back before he pulled a clean one out of a duffle bag he kept stocked. Clinton didn’t bother with a clean shirt, as though he expected an uncontrolled Change, which was exactly why Harrison nixed Bash calling shotgun. He made Clinton sit up front instead. If he was going to Change, Harrison had big plans to boot his ass out of his truck, and quick.

  “This is about Audrey,” Clinton said in a subdued tone as Harrison jammed the key in the ignition.

  “It’s about a lot of things. Mostly, we need to talk about what we’re doing and where we’re going.”

  “Why? We’re fine the way we are.”

  “Are we?” Bash asked in a dark tone from the back seat. “I’m not. I know for certain Harrison’s not happy. He lost his whole damned crew, Clinton.”

  “Are you happy?” Harrison asked. “Answer me honestly, because I can’t imagine anyone with as big a chip on their shoulder as you is really finding joy in their life.”

  “No,” Clinton murmured, “I’m not happy.”

  “It’s been hard, and for a long time. Can we all agree on that?” Harrison asked.

  “Yes,” Clinton and Bash answered.

  “I’m lifting the ban on women in the trailer park.”

  “Harrison—” Clinton interrupted.

  “No, you’ll listen. Your time for talking and sabotaging is through. I’d made that rule a long time ago because some of my bears weren’t ready to treat a woman with respect, and I didn’t want to put some frail human woman at risk in my park. My crew needed time to mature. It was never a permanent rule, Clinton, and I was ready to lift it right as you came to me, begging to be a Boarlander. Because you were so opposed to women in our park, I held off on lifting the ban. Was I right to do it? Hell, I don’t know. Maybe if I’d done this sooner, I could’ve kept some of my boys. Or maybe not. I can’t change what’s been done, but I can do my best to guide what we have left to a better future. I want us happy.”

  “But women in this park won’t make me happy,” Clinton said, staring out the window.

  “Why? Just tell me the reason why so I can understand why you’ve pushed everyone so hard.”

  “Because I’m cursed, Harrison. You think I’m doing this to hurt us? Because I hate women?” Clinton looked sick and shook his head. “I drag hell with me wherever I go. I don’t want any more women hurt because of me.”

  Well, that was the realest answer he’d ever heard from Clinton.

  “You ain’t cursed, and we ain’t destined to be miserable the rest of our lives, Clinton. I’m lifting the ban—”

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  “It’s my mistake to make!” Harrison yelled. “I let you run this crew too long, and you know what happens when a low-ranking bear runs things? The whole damned hierarchy breaks down. I put up with too much. I did it because I saw what Creed was doing with his troubled bears, and I thought you would come around if I was a good enough alpha, but you never did. You got worse. I’ve called Audrey, and she’ll be waiting at the park—”

  “Dammit, Harrison—”

  “I’m not done,” he barked, turning onto a sharp switchback. From here, he could see the park in the valley below. “Ladies are now allowed in the park, and Bash, I’m gonna need you to order some supplies.”

  “For what, boss?”

  “We’re fixing up the place because we let our home go, boys. That place is a crap-hole. I’m embarrassed to bring Mason and Kirk and Audrey there. Our crew is going through an overhaul, and part of that is improving our territory so that it’s safe and inviting for mates, and someday, God-willing, cubs. I mean, for fuck’s sake, the Grayland Mobile Park looks pristine. And they’re Gray Backs. I want that for us. I want a fire pit, a gathering place, a grilling area, a work-out space, a damned swing-set in the back, all of it.”

  “I want a door,” Bash said helpfully.

  “Yeah, I don’t really know why you haven’t put a new one on. It’s been two weeks since you kicked it down.”

 
; “Because Clinton,” Bash muttered.

  “Okay, also, you two need to settle the issue of who is my Second. We need a pecking order, and it needs to stick.”

  Clinton had gone quiet, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he was shutting down. “I have nowhere else to go.”

  “Then don’t go anywhere. I don’t want to lose you, Clinton.”

  “This is because of Audrey. She’s making you shake up a system that doesn’t need to change.”

  “Look, Audrey is mine.”

  “After a few days,” Clinton scoffed.

  “And how fast did it take for you to know with your mates, Clinton? Huh? How long until you bonded?”

  Clinton jerked a furious gaze to Harrison, then back out the window.

  “I called your alpha from a few crews ago. Can’t you see it’s not fair that you got to try to build a family, but Bash and I never get that chance?”

  When Clinton huffed a furious breath, the air stank of fur, but he needed to hear this. Needed to accept what was happening.

  “How long?” Harrison demanded.

  Clinton swallowed audibly. “It was instant.”

  Harrison’s stomach clenched at the pain that had tainted Clinton’s voice.

  “Holy shit,” Bash whispered.

  “Audrey is my mate. I didn’t expect it, wasn’t looking for one, but my bear chose her, and I’m going to work hard to get her to choose me back. She will be a part of this if she wants to be. She makes me happy, and it’s been a long damned time. I deserve for things to go better, and I’m going to work my ass off for life to be better for the both of you. You’re all the crew I’ve got. From here on, I promise, I’m going to do my best to dig us out of this hole.”

  “I’m in,” Bash said, gripping Harrison’s shoulder from behind.

  “Clinton?” Harrison asked.

  But Clinton only sighed the saddest sound and stared out the window at the passing evergreens. As they pulled into the back entrance of Boarland Mobile Park, Clinton said, “You’re a good alpha, Harrison.”

  But Harrison hadn’t missed it. That wasn’t really a declaration of fealty.