by T. S. Joyce
Pride blasted through his chest, and he smiled as he took another drink of his beer. “Good.” Not so frail. Not so fragile.
The soft sound of giggling brushed his sensitive ears, and he turned to where his rowdy crew had moved off down the bar. Willa and Georgia both gave him thumbs up and big, confusing smiles, and when he looked for Gia—because she was pregnant and he liked her close so he could help Creed protect her—she was waddling double-time, round belly leading the way, toward the jukebox in the corner. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“I met Willa and the others in the bathroom,” Ana said softly, following his gaze. “They seem nice.”
“Then why are you so afraid of us?”
That part he couldn’t figure out. If she was a shifter groupie, she’d be more brazen. Instead, she was clutching her drink and sitting at the opposite edge of her barstool.
“Because you’re a bear shifter.”
“And you’re scared of shifters?”
She nodded.
He stared at her for a long time. She was beautiful, smart, and shy, and obviously terrified to be this close to him, so why was she talking to him in the first place?
“Is this some sort of dare or bet?” he asked, scanning the room. Kong lifted his beer in the corner from a table he sat at with his Lowlander Crew, but other than that, no one was watching them that he could tell. “Are your friends taking pictures or something? I don’t do social media, and I’m rarely on the Internet, so that shit won’t hurt me.”
“I’d never hurt you,” she said on a rushed breath.
He jerked his gaze back to her. Truth. Every word she’d just uttered had been laced with honesty. Who the fuck was this girl? And why wasn’t his bear a snarling mess inside of him like he was every other minute of his life? He set the beer bottle down and backed off the stool. “Why would you want to talk to me? And don’t give me the handsome line. I know what I am, and I know what I ain’t. Mixed up, bloodletting berserker at the mercy of my alpha’s patience. But you’re too good to be sitting next to some crazy lumberjack grizzly shifter.”
Ana was clutching her purse now, and as she slid off her chair, she looked like she was going to cry. Human women are like that. Soft and full of tears. She was little and helpless, like he used to be, and now his protective instincts were kicking in for a woman he couldn’t afford to get attached to.
She wasn’t a Gray Back. Would never be a Gray Back because all the boys were mated. Except you.
Easton took a step back. His bear had the right of it—afraid and quiet around this dangerous little creature.
Easton spun to escape Sammy’s Bar—to escape Ana—but Willa stood in his way, a pissed off little hellion. She blasted her fists on her hips. “Ask her to dance.”
“What? No.”
Willa’s usually happy brown eyes narrowed to dangerous little slits. “Yes, she’s soft, Easton, yet somehow, she found the courage to come over here and talk to your scary ass. I like her. If you hurt her feelings, I’ll break your fucking leg.”
He made an angry clicking sound behind his teeth. “You already broke my leg.” And he had the permanent limp to prove it.
Willa’s eyebrows wrenched upward. “You have two legs. I can play that game twice.”
He growled at her and turned around. “Do you want to dance?” he muttered to Ana, his words gravelly.
Ana’s pretty blue eyes had somehow gotten even bigger. They took stock of half her fucking adorable face now. “I think so?”
“Great.” Easton grabbed her hand and tried not to crush her fingers and break all her bones as he led her to the empty dancefloor.
This was the part where Creed, Matt, and Jason usually fought their mates. Empty dancefloors with one couple drew too much attention, but Easton gave exactly zero fucks who watched him. Beaston was his name and town crazy was his game, and he’d accepted the stares a long time ago.
Gia had picked a slow song, and with a frustrated snarl in his throat, he turned around and pulled Ana’s hand to his shoulder, then held her other one out to his side and swayed back and forth.
Ana was holding her breath and had gone pale as a sheet. And now he wanted to kill whatever was upsetting her, but unfortunately, the only danger to her was him. His head was so mixed up. He shook it hard and tried to focus on not touching her too hard. She would turn to ashes and blow away in a stiff wind if he did.
“Breathe,” he demanded.
She inhaled deeply as a tremble shook her shoulders.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t, so you don’t have to be scared.”
Her hands were miniature against his, and for the first time when he straightened to his full height, he got the chance to see how tiny she was next to him. It was almost laughable. He had a foot on her and a hundred pounds of muscle, at least. She squeezed his hand, and he drew up short. Wait, he was touching her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked low, her eyes so big and vulnerable. She gave away every emotion with them.
He’d stopped dancing, so he picked it up again. Side to side as he held Ana as gently as a dried sand dollar.
She cleared her throat and looked around. Everyone was staring, but he didn’t care. Ana, however, seemed to wither under the attention. “You dance very well,” she whispered.
“Does that surprise you?”
“Yes. I thought a man like you would step on my toes and lose his rhythm, but you’re quite good.”
His face stretched into a quick smile, there and gone at her compliment. Handsome and a good dancer, and Ana the Mystery was giving him all the compliments a man like him never thought he’d hear. He would reward her kindness with an explanation.
“My mom taught me to dance.”
Surprise flitted across her face, and her full lips molded into a smile that stole his breath from his chest. “I didn’t know that.”
What a strange thing to say. Of course she didn’t know that. She didn’t know him.
“I was seven. She taught me in our living room and told me, “To make a fine man someday, you need to learn to dance with a woman.” To hold her proper and gentle, as a real man ought. That part had been meant for Dad, who sat at the table and glared at their lesson. Mom loved to dance to an old record player in the living room. Dad never had danced with Mom that Easton had seen.
“She was lovely. I mean…she sounds lovely.” Ana’s breath shook harder as she stepped closer to him and rested her cheek as light as a paintbrush stroke against his chest.
She would hear it now. Ana would hear how hard his heart was beating just being this close to her. He should pull away. Hide. But when he looked at the exit, Willa was standing in front of it with her finger jammed at him, shaking her head. Fuck.
At least Ana hadn’t asked what happened to Mom. He liked the tiny human more for it. She wasn’t digging too deep as he’d seen the other shifter groupies try to do when the Boarlanders were at Sammy’s trying to get their dicks stroked. So many questions. Ana didn’t do that, though. Ana was nice and gentle.
Why was his bear still so quiet?
“Where did you learn to dance?” he asked, just to distract her from his heartbeat battering her face right now.
“Not from my parents. When we moved to Rapid City, I went to public school for the first time. There was this school dance, and I was so nervous. I’d been homeschooled all my life, and there were so many kids it was intimidating.” Her voice shook on every word, but it was getting stronger. “A boy in my class asked me to dance. It was very stiff and scary, but he showed me what to do. And afterward I felt accomplished and brave.”
He didn’t like thinking about her dancing with anyone else. Which was stupid and territorial, and he had no right to get possessive over her. Ana wasn’t his. Still, he rested his chin on her head so she wouldn’t see him curl up his lip in a snarl for the boy who had asked her to dance.
Something strange was happening. Ana stopped shaking, and she went all warm and soft in his arm
s. She stepped even closer, pressing her body flush against his. Vanilla. Her hair was silk against the rasp of his beard. Such a contrast to him. Good Ana. Bad Beaston. Another song came on. Another slow one. Gia was controlling the jukebox now and threw a middle finger at one of Kong’s lowlanders for complaining. Was Willa crying? No, couldn’t be. Just a trick of the lights playing with his eyes. Ana felt so good against him, but now that she was so close, she’d feel how excited he was. How could she not? His dick was hard as a rock between them.
“I have a boner.” Perfect. That would set the mood. Idiot.
“For me?” Ana asked. Was that hope in her voice? She looked up with those ensnaring eyes.
God damn, she felt good pressed up against his dick like this. “That was supposed to scare you away.”
“It doesn’t. I like that you say what you mean.”
He liked that about her, too. Honest notes in all her words and shit, she felt good. Good, good, good. Ana, his Ana. He wanted her under him, on top of him. Fuck.
“I have to go,” he murmured. A deep frown hurt his face. He didn’t want to leave her, but she was as fragile as a dry leaf, and he wasn’t the beast for her. Quiet bear, where are you? The lights were too bright in here.
“Okay,” she said, disappointment pooling in her big, blue eyes.
His guts hurt. He’d done that, disappointed her, but it was best this way, leaving now. He would only disappoint her more if she knew how fucked up he really was.
Bowing, he kissed her hand like mom had taught him, then he strode for the door and past Willa whose sad eyes matched Ana’s.
Don’t look back.
He blasted through the door and out into the dusty, gravel parking lot.
He turned and glared at the door as it swung closed behind him. A long growl rattled his chest, and there he was—the beast in his middle.
Every step Easton took away from the bar hurt, but he forced himself to walk to Jason’s truck and dropped the tailgate. He sat on it and looked at the stars. If he was lucky, the others would be headed out here now to go back to the Grayland Mobile Park with him.
“Did I make you angry?” Ana asked from behind him.
Easton jumped. Shit, how had she snuck up on him?
She was shaking again, badly. This made no damned sense. Ana was obviously terrified around him, yet she kept approaching him.
“You make me feel like a monster.” It had been meant to hurt her, and his words did. That much was obvious by her face falling. More gutting him, more ache. She shouldn’t have this kind of power over him. No one should. She was going to draw out his bear.
But…his inner grizzly had stopped snarling again.
“You’re not a monster,” Ana said low as she stepped carefully over a pothole in the gravel. “And if you ever say that around me again, I won’t talk to you anymore.” As the brave little human dragged her gaze back to his, she looked angry. Smelled angry. Vanilla and fury. “You’re good.”
“I’m not.”
She eased closer and rested her hands light as feathers on his knees. “You are.” Her tone had turned to grit and steel.
Easton froze under her touch. Ana was fragile, and he would hurt her if he moved. Settling in between his legs, she cupped his face gently with her palms. She searched his eyes and smiled. “I liked dancing with you. And when we talk, I get butterflies in my stomach.”
“I make you sick?”
“No,” she said through a laugh. He liked the sound. Soft and feminine, her giggle tinkled like a bell. “I mean, you make me have flutters in my stomach because I like the way you make me feel.”
“You’re pretty.” He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. He could do that part better. “I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” There. Better. That felt right.
She smiled again and stroked her thumbs across his cheeks. “I always wondered what it would be like to have you say that to me.”
Easton gripped her wrists and shook his head, confused. “I don’t understand you.”
Ana stood on her tiptoes and rubbed her cheek softly against his. Silk against the rasp of his scruff. More proof of how different they were. He was a jagged river rock, and she was the gentle water.
Now it was Ana who was steady as Easton’s heart raced and his breath shook. She was so close, so warm, touching him. Him. He wasn’t a stupid man, and he knew he would never see Ana again, but for tonight, for right now, he was going to enjoy a woman pretending he was something more than a monster.
His breath came in shallow pants now as the corner of her lips brushed his. Closing his eyes, he threaded his fingers through her soft hair and gripped gently. Don’t go. The next time she eased back to brush her cheek against his, he pressed his lips to hers as gently as a delicate woman like Ana deserved. His bear pushed for more—harder, faster. Taste her! But Easton forced his hands and lips to be easy. Easton had told her he wouldn’t hurt her, and he wouldn’t. Not now, not ever.
He stifled the urgent growl in his throat so he wouldn’t scare her. Ana angled her face and sucked gently on his lips. Fuck, he wanted more. Needed it. He nipped softly at her mouth, grazing her with his teeth, and she let off a quiet moan that did disastrous things to his middle. Burning, fire, dick so hard.
He just wanted a taste. A small one. Just one.
As her lips moved against his, he touched the closed seam of her mouth with his tongue. A request, not a demand, because Ana was good, and she should make the decision whether to let a beast like him in.
Her lips parted, and he brushed his tongue against hers. Fuck, he was being too rough with her hair. He dropped his hands down to her waist and dragged her closer, pressed her against his erection because she felt right and warm between his legs.
He kissed her harder. Not his fault—his bear’s fault. The animal was in his head, pushing to be closer to Ana now. She slid her arms over his shoulders and tightened around his neck, pulling him nearer. Don’t hurt her, Bear. Be gentle. Fragile, delicate Ana. He was an avalanche, and she was a hummingbird. Courageous little creature. Sexy.
She rolled her hips against his, and he gritted his teeth, pulling away from their kiss as he rested his forehead against hers. “Ana,” he warned her shakily. She was undoing him.
“I like when you call me that.” She hesitated, then kissed him once more, a soft peck that plucked at his lips. With a smile, she backed away. “Your crew is waiting to leave.”
Easton dragged his gaze away from her and over his shoulder. The Gray Backs were coming out of the bar.
Ana headed toward a white car. Don’t go. She unlocked it, then slid in behind the wheel. When the engine roared to life, she rolled down the window. Goodbye, Easton. He knew it was coming. The words that would rip his insides out.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Easton,” she said with a shy smile and pink cheeks.
Stunned, he stood from the tailgate and watched her drive away.
Ana had made him feel almost normal tonight, but that wasn’t the only gift she’d given him.
She’d given him his first kiss.
Chapter Seven
Easton sat on the back porch of his trailer and watched the progress of the sun as it sank down behind the mountains. He fingered the strand of frayed, black silk ribbon he’d taken from the raven’s treasure box this morning before work on the landing. The day had been hard as his focus had drifted this way and that between thoughts of Ana and the meaning of the black ribbon that he’d tucked deep inside his pocket.
It served as a reminder. Ana was frail like Mom had been. She wouldn’t survive a man like him, so it was best that her words, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Easton,” had been nothing more than a pretty lie. She didn’t even know where he lived.
He pulled the length of ribbon through his fingers. A raven’s sympathy.
“Where has he gone off to?” Mom asked, hands on her hips as she squinted against the setting sun that threw the front yard into the golds and oranges of autumn.
>
Easton had just hit his first grizzly growth spurt and was almost as tall as his human mother now. He shrugged and pressed his hand against her belly where the undulating was the strongest. It was a boy, a little brother. He just knew it. “Maybe he fell asleep somewhere.”
Mom inhaled deeply. She was tired lately and had trouble moving around. Her feet swelled at night, and she was short of breath, but Dad didn’t let her ease up on the chores. Not this close to winter.
“Next year, can I go to school with other kids?” he asked. He wouldn’t dare mention it to Dad. He already knew that answer.
Dad would say, “Boy, you know what you are? You gotta bear inside of you, and humans can’t be trusted with that kind of information. We stay out here in the woods for survival. Get that cockamamied idea out of your head. School.” And then he’d spit in the grass because he always did that when Easton asked a dumb question. He spat on the ground the same as he used a period at the end of a sentence. Discussion closed.
Mom was softer, though. She understood how lonely it was out here.
She smiled sadly down at him and squeezed his shoulder. “Things were going to be different, Easton. I had plans for you and me, but the baby derailed them. Maybe someday, but not now.”
Plans? Troubled, Easton looked out over the yard again as his senses picked up something that lifted the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Something was wrong in their woods.
“Dad?” he called, stepping off the porch.
Movement stirred the dry grass in the brush just behind the tree line.
Easton trotted forward at the sound of a pained groan, and Mom followed as she was able.
Dad appeared from behind the trees, stumbling and slow. Easton couldn’t understand what he was seeing, though. Dad’s head was crooked on his shoulders.
“Oh, my God,” Mom whispered in horror. “Easton, don’t look.” She covered Easton’s face with her hands and yanked him to a stop. “I said don’t look!” Mom was sobbing now. “Go back into the house!” she screamed as she ran for Dad.
Dad fell to his knees, body convulsing as he toppled over sideways.
