Blackjack Bears

by Amelia Jade

  “Oh,” Robyn said slyly as she flicked her eyes over the pair once more, then to where Mila’s hand was resting on his arm. “I see.”

  Dammit.

  The last thing Mila needed was Robyn thinking the two of them were together. In the several years she’d been coming here to get her hair done, never once had Mila mentioned a boyfriend. So this was a big deal to Robyn, who had long been pestering her friend to just find a man, any man, to help her relieve some stress.

  “Quiet,” Mila said, shaking her head. “He needs a helping hand, as you can see.”

  Robyn eyed Pierce up. “Yes, yes he does. And lucky for you, I actually have an open slot. I was going to take an extra break, but I can see why Mila brought you. We’re going to shape you right up,” she promised, taking Pierce by the hand and leading him away.

  Mila wanted to follow, but she knew she couldn’t. This was up to Pierce. He had to find a way to combat this on his own. The only saving grace was that as one of the junior stylists, Robyn’s chair was at the very far end of the salon, farthest from the windows and all the activity in the busy parking lot.

  Pierce did his best, and she could see him fighting to stay relaxed. As they walked, she saw him manage to calm himself slightly, and as Robyn sat him in the chair, some of the white in his knuckles faded.

  Please don’t destroy her chair.

  The little thought brought a smile to her face as she trailed after the pair, watching Pierce sit still while Robyn threw a cover over him.

  “So, Mila, details,” Robyn said as she began to run a wet comb through Pierce’s hair.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Mila asked, taking a seat in the empty stylist’s chair next to Pierce.

  Robyn just looked at her and laughed, letting her question fall by the wayside for the moment.

  When Robyn moved around the far side, Pierce’s hand poked free of the cover and reached for her. She wrapped a finger around him, and he instantly breathed easier. They wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long though.

  Then, to Mila’s surprise, Pierce pulled his hand back. Bracing herself, she awaited his locking up once more.

  But it didn’t come. Her eyes trailed to Robyn, who was really working her fingers and the comb through his hair.

  Well I’ll be. He wasn’t kidding when he said the hair stylist’s was a relaxing place.

  Robyn put the comb away, and reached for something else. With a flick of her thumb she sent power coursing through the pair of clippers, and a medium-strength buzz filled the air.

  Pierce’s eyes flew open and he sat up straight. “Clippers?” he stammered.

  “Well, yeah,” Robyn said. “How else are we going to get this back to a respectable length?”

  “Ummm,” Pierce said, his eyes darting this way and that.

  “I told you,” Mila said, reaching forward and laying her hand on his arm, even though it was covered by cloth. “We’re going to freshen you up, make you professional. And less like a street bum.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I didn’t think you were serious,” he said, pulling his head away from Robyn’s hand and the clippers it held.

  “Pierce,” Mila said firmly. “Sit still, and let the woman work. She’s good at her job. You will look great, trust me.”

  His head swiveled to look at her. “You think I’ll look good with short hair?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Definitely.”

  Pierce considered that.

  “Okay, do it,” he said, sitting back and taking a deep breath.

  Mila shook her head with mild laughter. There were far more sides to Pierce than she’d expected, and trying to get them all to line up with one another was…interesting. For instance, the man in the chair in front of her who was a nervous wreck simply because he was going to get his hair cut was nothing like the snarling, brutal savage who had nearly choked the life from her when they met in the forest.

  Mila unconsciously brushed her fingers across her throat. His attack hadn’t left any visible marks, thankfully, having been too brief. But she felt a little tenderness there every time she swallowed.

  That had been done by a very different side of Pierce, almost as diametrically opposed as the Pierce whom she’d lost control with in her kitchen the night before. That Pierce had been strong, confident, tender, and almost exotic in the way he’d pleasured her. He’d seemed to take as much excitement from her pleasure as she had, which had only served to turn Mila on more.

  Not that she was ready to admit that to him.

  Then there was the angry, stressed, scared, and overwhelmed man who was having a hard time coping with the press of humanity and its artificial constructs, the way they grouped themselves together so closely.

  So many different parts to one individual. And yet plusses to each.

  The fighter in him would protect her. The lover in him would please her. The fear in him showed her he was real. And the hesitation in him at getting a haircut made him adorable.

  Aw hell.

  She liked him.

  There was no escaping that fact. Especially as she considered that during the entire twenty-minute walk from her house to the salon, not once had Mila felt uncomfortable holding his hand despite her initial thoughts to the contrary. She’d never thought about letting go, and after a few minutes, had completely forgotten that she was holding it because it had felt so natural.

  Robyn continued to work while Mila became absorbed in her thoughts. So when Robyn finally spoke up, she almost jumped in surprise.

  “What do you think?” she asked, spinning the chair around so that Mila could look at him.

  Oh my.

  “Wow,” she breathed, looking at the stunning transformation. Where once there had been an attractive but scruffy face, there was now a purposefully sculpted look.

  Robyn had trimmed his beard down as well. It was still a week or so worth of growth, but carefully trimmed now to match the short up-do she’d created with his hair.

  Mila knew she was staring, but she didn’t care. He looked good.

  Pierce opened his eyes at last, and she realized he likely hadn’t seen himself yet either. But now he saw her staring, and much to her embarrassment, he tossed her a wink.

  “Do I look better now?” he teased.

  She nodded. “Yes. Much.” It was all she could trust herself to say. Then to Robyn, “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” the stylist said with a knowing look between the two of them. “Glad to help you out. But my question is, when will I see you next?”

  Mila ran a hand through her hair. “Is it getting bad?”

  Robyn shrugged. “Not too bad, but I think we have some catching up to do,” she said, choosing that moment to shoo Pierce from her chair, a not so subtle sign as to what she was referencing they catch up on.

  “Okay okay. I have a few things going on right now, but I’ll call you when I get them settled. We’ll do lunch, or maybe dinner.”

  “Done.”

  Mila paid for the work and the pair left the salon, their hands automatically finding each other. Mila didn’t fight it this time. She started to walk to the clothing store in the same parking lot, but Pierce stopped, his hand tugging her to a halt. He was like an unmovable statue. Mila turned to figure out what had caught his eye when she saw the frown on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, moving closer to him, maintaining her grip.

  “You shouldn’t have had to do that,” he rumbled unhappily.

  “Do what? Take you to get your hair cut?”

  He shook his head. “No, not that. I wasn’t overly keen on the idea, but after looking at myself in the mirror, I can see that you were right.” He shot her a glance. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Too late,” she replied with a smile, though it faded quickly. “But tell me, what shouldn’t I have to do?”

  He worked his jaw a little before speaking. “Pay.”

  Mila arched an e
yebrow, taking a half step back to better be able to look him in the eye.

  “Pardon?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

  Mila waved him off. “It’s nothing.”

  But Pierce didn’t seem to see it that way. She could tell it was bothering him.

  “Am I not allowed to pay?” she asked finally, feeling her temper ignite a little. She had not worked so hard, and done the things she’d done, to be told she wasn’t allowed to pay for things.

  “Not in the way you’re thinking,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have to pay for me. You want to buy stuff for yourself, go for it. I don’t like that I’m unable to contribute, and that you are forced to pay.” He finally looked at her. “Who is paying for the clothes you’re now insisting I go get?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose I am.”

  He shook his head. “Where I come from, that’s not acceptable. I should be paying for myself, and you as well.”

  Mila licked her lips and prepared to speak, but he wasn’t done.

  “I am vaguely aware that in your society, that is a concept that is going out of fashion, and I hope you aren’t offended. It is in no way meant to slight your ability to earn money and pay for yourself. It’s just…because I want to.”

  “Pierce,” Mila said very sternly. “We aren’t dating.”

  He flinched.

  “Maybe, and I mean maybe in that case, I might let you pay for me. But although we seem to be stuck together for the near future, we’re not—”

  Mila never finished her sentence. Pierce tugged on her hand, and Mila fell toward him. His free hand caught her and lifted her up until he could press his mouth to hers.

  She was supposed to fight this. To tell him not to. That she wasn’t with him, like she’d just been saying.

  But oh it felt so good. His heat warmed her easily, and his lips tasted her thoroughly, with a burning passion that made her lightheaded.

  She caught herself, barely stopping herself from whimpering at his touch while in public. Who was this man, and why did he make her so weak in the knees? She was supposed to be strong, tough, and independent! Yet Pierce just waltzed into her life and was now kissing her like she’d never been kissed before.

  He set her down at last, breaking apart the kiss, though his eyes still burned with a smoldering flame as they opened slowly to gaze at her.

  Mila made up her mind.

  “Come back here,” she ordered, reaching up to pull his head back to hers.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Pierce

  Three days later, everything changed.

  Although Mila had kissed him back that day in the parking lot, it hadn’t led to anything further. Not physically at least. She would kiss him here and there, and they were quite comfortable being in close contact with each other. But not once since that event had either of them made a move on the other.

  Pierce regretted kissing her while she was trying to assert herself. He knew he should have waited, should have gotten permission first, and he’d apologized profusely after, despite Mila’s decision to kiss him again. She’d told him it was fine, and he had done his best to let it go, but it still sort of ate at him.

  Mila hadn’t initiated anything, and he wasn’t sure why beyond a simple “she didn’t know him well enough.”

  But that had begun to change as she accepted the fact that they clearly hadn’t come into contact with each other by chance. The connection between them was too strong, and it only grew stronger as the days passed. Much of their time was spent at home with each other, learning all they could.

  Pierce told her stories of growing up, of some of the things he and his brothers did together. He deliberately left out the later years, and how things had changed, but he had no problems recanting tales of teenage embarrassment and awkwardness as he learned to harness his shifter side.

  He also spoke warmly of his sister and his mother, while telling her how his father hadn’t been a good person, and how eventually when they were old enough the five siblings had driven him out after they’d caught him berating their sister. The Koche brothers were trouble to anyone who would listen, and they often fought amongst themselves as well.

  But if anyone tried to hurt Sasha, Pierce would personally not hesitate to rip their throat out. Just as he planned to do whenever he caught up with whoever had taken his brothers. Thoughts of revenge, and just how he was going to kill them had become a favorite pastime of his, as he imagined catching up to the person, and making them realize just who it was right before he tore their throat out.

  A surge of anger flushed through him at the idea, and he smiled grimly.

  Mila had reciprocated to a degree. She was, he’d begun to notice, very vague on the concept of her job, and just what it entailed. It was something he intended to get out of her soon, including how she’d managed to avoid going into work for four straight days now. If she didn’t go in the next day, that would make a full week of avoiding work. For someone who seemed to be rather high up on the chain and in charge of acquisitions nationwide, that seemed remarkably odd.

  But she’d been a gracious host, keeping him and his voracious appetite in check, so he didn’t push too hard. Or he hadn’t.

  “When are we going to do something about my brothers?” he asked as she came downstairs, wearing a nice black buttoned shirt with a deep neck and long flowy sleeves.

  His eyes lingered somewhat longingly on the curve of her breasts, but he eventually looked away, not wanting to cause too much trouble. She knew he desired her, and that he did his best to be proper.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been here for closing in on a week now. Yet all we’ve done is scour the newspapers to see if anyone’s reported any missing people turning up.”

  Mila crossed her arms and looked at him. “Okay. Let’s look for them.”

  “Excellent,” he said, clapping his hands together and standing up.

  “What’s the plan?” she asked.

  Pierce slowed his march toward the stairs to head up to the main level. “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged. “You want to find them. I get that, I understand. But how do you intend to do that? We have no idea if they’re here or not. And even if they are, then what?”

  “What are you saying?” he said slowly.

  “I’m saying, Pierce, that you don’t want to go to the police. You don’t want to do this the proper way. So if you want to go looking for them, we have to do it another way. Okay, fine, I’ll play ball. But I don’t know what that way is. Do you just want to start walking down the streets looking for them, calling out their names?”

  His face heated slightly in embarrassment as he realized that Mila had put a lot more thought into it than he’d thought she had. Pierce had just sort of assumed she didn’t have any real interest in helping him look, and so would perhaps tag along with him at best. Now she was making him look like an idiot, because he hadn’t actually thought about it.

  “Exactly,” she said. “There is no way to do it.”

  That wasn’t exactly true, he knew. If his brothers were here in the city, and they weren’t captured, if they’d perhaps managed to escape like him, Pierce knew where to find them.

  Casinos. Bars. Strip clubs. Dirty, slovenly joints with few rules and fewer people who would talk. The slums. The projects, the ghettos. Whatever term someone wanted to apply to them, it was in those seedy joints that he would either find his brothers, or find someone who knew of them.

  But the problem with going there to look for them was twofold. Pierce had nothing to fear. He could waltz into any one of those places and not give a shit what the regulars, owners, security, or anyone else might have to say about it. What he couldn’t do, however, was take Mila with him. She didn’t have the skills, the experience, or the shifter blood to be able to stay safe.

  His second issue was perhaps the more prominent one.

  Pierce simply hadn
’t told Mila the real truth about him and his brothers. She’d known that perhaps they were more rough and tumble than most. That he’d been unable to hide. She’d seen his tattoos, though she hadn’t asked him about them, much to his relief. If he were to tell her where he thought to go to look for them, then he’d have to explain to Mila why they would be there.

  And how he felt so comfortable in such places.

  It wasn’t something he looked forward to doing, but he knew it was inevitable. At some point, she would have to know. But he didn’t want to deal with that just yet. Mila made him feel better than the man he’d been before. She inspired him to be stronger, to want to just be…good. It was a strange, nearly alien feeling, but not one he could deny. The longer he was around her, the less of a pull he felt to the game. The pull was still there, but it led somewhere else when she was around.

  “I understand,” he said, choosing cowardice yet again and not telling her.

  I’ll figure out a way, brothers. A way to make this work. In the meantime, stay strong, and stay feisty. I’m coming for you. Wherever you are.

  “Sorry,” Mila said. “I don’t want to sound like a bitch by rubbing it in your face. But the area outside of Cadia is just so much bigger than anything you’re used to. You need to come up with some thoughts, some ways on how to track them, on perhaps who might have taken them. Anything that we could use.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come up with a list of places to check, and try once again to think of any enemies outside of Cadia who might want us.”

  “Good.” Mila eyed him. “In the meantime though, come on, put on that nice dress shirt and those khaki pants we bought you.”

  He eyed her suspiciously, wary about the sudden change of topic. “Why?”

  She smiled, the beaming look that made her heart-shaped face just light up and worm its way deeper into his being. The dimples in her cheeks that formed when she smiled so broadly were just gorgeous, and her entire face lit up.

  Pierce knew he couldn’t say no to whatever was coming.

  “You’re taking me to the movies, that’s why,” she announced.