by Liza Street
Repressing a snort, Jameson said, “Of course you do.”
“The lion’s got to go.”
“Yeah?” Jameson said. “Why’s that?”
“I don’t want her here. Erena doesn’t want her here. Nolan doesn’t even want her here.”
“Was Nolan involved in vandalizing her truck?” Jameson asked sharply.
“No.”
Truth. Jameson exhaled. Stooping to vandalism didn’t seem Nolan’s style, but Nolan had been especially gruff and standoffish since Nina had arrived.
It was easy to see why Jake didn’t want her here—Nina wouldn’t give Jake the time of day. And Erena wanted Nina to leave because Jake was interested in her. Snide, petty reasons. How had his clan gotten so out of control?
“Her stay is temporary,” Jameson said.
It hurt to say it out loud.
Satisfied with the honesty ringing in Jameson’s words, Jake nodded once, then turned and blended back into the forest.
Jameson had never really liked Jake, but this was the first time he actively despised him. Jake wanted Nina gone—someone who was full of goodness and strength. It made Jameson want to rip into Jake, make him bleed. But he had better control of his grizzly than that. After reaching his cabin, Jameson showered and changed into his professor clothes. Khaki pants, button-up shirt. Respectable clothes that hid the bear and his savage urgings from sight.
*
The lecture wasn’t as good as other versions he’d given in the past. He was distracted. His thoughts kept returning to Nina. But when he started the discussion of a Brenda Hillman poem about loving the wounds of one’s partner, he felt…rejuvenated, was the only word for it. He felt like there was more sense in these poems than there had been in a long time.
“Whatever touched you, whatever got in the way,” he read, “I loved that too…”
Some of his students sat up and scribbled down the lines into notebooks or typed them into devices. He finished, “My horizontalness, your verticality.”
A Poetry 101 class wasn’t the place to go into a lot of detail about each poem, but he found himself wanting to talk about it with someone. Even after class, when the students had shuffled out and Jameson had office hours, he waited in his chair, hoping a student would come in and ask to speak more about the Hillman poem.
Nobody seemed interested in discussing lyric poets who experimented with form, and Jameson instead reviewed his notes for his next class.
Five minutes before the end of office hours, a knock sounded on the door jamb. He started to ask who it was, but then her dusty, floral scent reached his nose.
“Nina?”
She stepped inside. She wore tight, skinny jeans that holy fuck made her legs look long and perfect. Her top was a gray scoop-neck tee, and her long mane of hair was pulled to one side, coming over her shoulder.
“Hey,” she said, “is this a bad time?”
There was only one reason she would search him out here—he’d driven her off. She was coming to say goodbye. He knew he should be happy about this, but all he could feel was a giant ball of disappointed rocks sliding down his throat, through his heart, and hollowing out a space in his chest.
“Of course not,” he said. “Come on in.”
Stay calm, keep it together.
“So,” she said, and paused.
“You don’t have to go,” he said, taking advantage of her hesitation. “I’d already decided you don’t need to do chores anymore—at least, no more than the other clan members. You’ve had your truck damaged, and that doesn’t sit well with me. But we’ll get Phil a new paint job, and I hope you don’t feel unwelcome.”
She smiled. “That wasn’t it at all. I wanted to find out what the hell is going on—why do you avoid me all the time?”
“What?”
“See, I wanted to follow you,” she said, “but I held back. I thought, if he doesn’t want to talk to me, then whatever. I’m not going to be the one chasing someone anymore—it didn’t work out so well last time. But then I got to thinking, what the hell do I have to lose? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.”
He opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say.
“So,” she prompted, “what the hell? Why do you avoid me? No running off into the forest here, so it’s the best place to talk it out. Did I do something to offend you?”
“Uhh…” She’d gotten his tongue. The fucking cat had gotten his fucking tongue. “You didn’t do anything,” he finally said.
Those wide hazel eyes were curious, open, seeing all of him. “And is there a reason you leave all the time? What is it?”
He glanced at the clock. His next class started in fifteen minutes. He could walk there in ten, but he didn’t know how to do this, how to have this conversation.
“There’s just some old stuff in my past,” he said. “You don’t need to worry about it. I’m not trying to be an asshole—I mean, a jerk.” Already he was letting his two worlds collide—the rough one of the clan, the polished one of his profession. He needed to keep things straight. His linguistic register was one thing while he worked, and quite another when he was talking to the clan. “Look, this really isn’t a good time or place to be discussing this.”
“Sure,” she said. “Right. I just…I can never pin you down when we’re at the Ring of Fire, so I thought maybe I’d try to pin you down here.”
Oh, if anyone were pinning someone, he’d be pinning her. Against the wall over there next to the large rickety bookcase, or maybe over his desk. Images swam in his mind, most of them involving Nina naked and shouting for more, harder.
He squirmed slightly in his seat, straightening his leg to make more room for his hardening cock.
“Look,” he said, “I really gotta get going. I have another class to teach on the other side of campus.”
She peered at him across his desk, then stood up and leaned both of her hands on it, bending forward slightly. He had a glimpse straight into the scoop neck of her t-shirt.
Her bra was hot pink.
He thought maybe he’d die right then. And he’d die happy.
“Great,” she said. “So next time I see you at the Ring of Fire, you’re not going to act like a douche anymore, right?”
“Woman, are you telling me how to act in my own clan, when I’m the—” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “the fucking alpha?”
She curved her lips up onto one side and lifted her gaze to the ceiling as if in deep thought. She tapped a finger against those peach-pink lips of hers. “Hmm. Yes, I think so. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. Grow up, Jameson, and stop being such a douche.”
With that, she slung her bag back over her shoulder and left the office.
He had to wait several minutes before his raging boner was under control, and then he was nearly late to his next lecture.
Eleven
Nina couldn’t drive quite yet. She held herself still in the cab of her Chevy. How on earth had she gotten through that talk with Jameson? And why had she done it? As a rational, thinking human being, she knew she had more control over herself than this. But the lion inside of her was pacing, growling, scratching at her skin, demanding that she hunt Jameson down. Stalk him, if need be, and then get answers. Get close, most of all. She wanted to be close to him.
Her mountain lion was freaking crazy. There was absolutely no good reason to chase this alphahole around Idaho in this way. It would only lead to heartache, and she’d had enough of that, thank you very much.
Finally getting her heartbeat under control, she started the truck and made her way back to the Ring of Fire. If she was lucky, maybe Gemma wouldn’t have any editing deadlines for the small publisher she worked for. They could share lunch and have a few laughs, and Nina could shake off some of her nerves and tension.
She lucked out. As soon as she pulled into the Ring of Fire, she saw Gemma near the fire pit. Her legs were kicked out in front of her on a plastic lawn chair and she was reading a book.
Nina climbed out of her truck and waved to Gemma. “Oh, I’ve got that one in my bag,” she said, pointing to Gemma’s book. Interstellar Love Connection. “My friend Justine has been bugging me to read it forever.”
“Alien sci-fi stuff isn’t my usual fare,” Gemma said, “but I saw it on your to-read list, and the stuff on your to-read list is pretty much an auto-buy for me. Maybe we can talk about it sometime?”
“I’d love that!” Nina said. “I was going to have a quick lunch before I get to work—can you join me?”
“Good news,” Gemma said. “Rex told me you don’t have to do any more chores—Jameson texted him a little while ago. So you get to relax with me and share my lunch, because I—” she paused dramatically, “—won a bet.”
Nina laughed. “What bet?”
Giggling, Gemma said, “You don’t want to know.”
Nina decided to trust Gemma on that and let it slide. “So what’d you win?”
“He has to make me a full, five-course meal for lunch. And since you’re here, you get to be my plus-one, you lucky duck.”
“What was that?” Rex called from his and Gemma’s porch. He was carrying a tray full of uncooked steaks. Behind him, a cooler waited on the steps.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Nina said, bounding over to the ice chest. She tried to lift it and groaned. “What the heck do you have in here? Several loads of bricks? I mean, I’m strong, but—”
A deep voice cut her off. “I’ll help.”
Nina turned to look up at the man who spoke. It was Nolan, and he was the tallest man she’d ever met—he just kept going up and up and up.
He grinned down at her.
She’d never had the nerve to ask because he was usually so standoffish, but the curiosity was driving her crazy. “Hey, Nolan? What kind of shifter are you?”
“Polar bear.”
“Holy shit,” Nina breathed. “A freaking…polar bear. Not many of you around these parts, are there?”
“Nope. But it suits me best that way.”
He took one end of the ice chest, and Nina held the other. Her muscles groaned in protest, but she held on, especially because Nolan was acting as if it were no effort at all.
Smug bear.
She and Nolan set it down a little ways from the fire. Nolan clapped his giant hands together. “So. Clan lunch?”
Rex sputtered. “Wait-wait-wait…”
Gemma laughed. “Actually, that’s a flippin’ great idea, Nolan. Let’s do a big lunch for everyone.”
“When you won that bet—” Rex started.
“When I won that bet, I won that bet. You’re getting off easy feeding only us. I should be inviting the whole freaking town of Helene.”
Rex groaned. “This is not what I signed up for.”
Nina noted that as put out as he pretended to be, he actually grinned at Gemma’s backside when she turned around to open the ice chest. Their back and forth warmed a part of Nina that she’d worried was frozen. There was love out here. Real HEAs for real people.
She just wasn’t one of them.
Determined to stop hanging out on her “sad stick” as Fraze would call it, she delved into the ice chest and came out with a beer of her own, and a second for Nolan.
“Thanks,” he said, and settled into one of the lounge chairs on the far side of the fire.
“No problem.” She hesitated, wanting to talk to him, but he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
Instant shut-out.
Determined not to let it bother her, Nina looked around. Already the other clan members were out on their porches, no doubt summoned by the delicious scent of steak sizzling over the barbecue near Rex and Gemma’s cabin. Margot, Erena, Jake, Carl. Carl curled his lip up when her gaze met his, but it was more of a sneer than a smile.
Well, Nina didn’t need to make friends with everyone here. She took her beer and reclined in the lounge chair next to Gemma’s and stared at the bright blue sky above them. “It’s gorgeous here,” she said.
“Damn straight,” Gemma said. “I grew up in Oregon, but I love this place like it’s my heart.”
“You love me,” Rex said, possessiveness in his tone.
Gemma said as an aside, “Well, I love Rex. Except when he starts getting jealous of a state for goodness’ sake. It’s like, an arbitrary outline of land with trees and rocks on it. Get over yourself, honey.”
He made as if to retort, but she smiled sweetly. “Don’t forget the other part of what I won in that bet. You serve me lunch cheerfully and with a good, generous heart.”
He made some grumbling sounds, but kept a fake smile on his face.
Nina laughed. Her beer tasted great, the steaks smelled like heaven, and today was pretty stellar. She’d faced down a freaking alpha and given him the what-for. HEA or no HEA, Nina was actually happy.
The HFN—happy for now.
By the time the steaks were finished, Margot and her sister, Erena, had come forward bearing a plate of cupcakes that Margot had baked.
Nina oohed and ahhed over the beautiful creations. Each one sported a tri-color tower of icing and was topped with a tiny chocolate candy shaped like an owl. “They look like magic.”
“I do it all the time,” Margot said, looking embarrassed.
Erena was silent beside her, a flat line to her mouth.
“Do you bake, too?” Nina asked her.
“No.” Erena stomped to the other side of the fire to sit near Nolan.
A few minutes later, Jake came out of his cabin, and sat next to Erena. He pulled a flask of something out of his pocket and took a swig. “Those steaks to be shared with all?” he asked.
Gemma looked like she was going to say no, but Rex spoke first. “Of course. We’re a clan—we’ll share food like a clan.”
“Where’s our oh-so-esteemed alpha?” Jake asked. “Still too disappointed in us to eat with us?”
“He’s at work,” Nina said.
“Oho, and how do you know, pussycat?” Jake asked.
Nina felt her cheeks get hot. “Because I just saw him there.”
Jake snorted and took a swig from his flask. Erena leaned against him until he passed the flask to her.
“You saw Jameson at work?” Gemma asked, a grin of delight forming on her face. “Oh, this is awesome.”
“Awesome?” Nina asked. “Why?”
Instead of answering her, Gemma asked in a whisper, “What was he like?”
“Oh you know, still had on his alphahole face,” Nina said back. By now, no one was paying attention to their conversation except for Rex, who’d just come over to serve Gemma her steak. “But overall I think it went well.”
“Alphahole?” Rex asked.
“It’s one of those things in the blogs I read,” Gemma said. “Shorthand for an asshole alpha male who tries to take charge of everything and acts like a dick. Some women like the trope. I’m not so sure I do.” She gave Rex a pointed look.
“So you read those romance blogs, too?” Rex asked Nina.
“Of course,” Nina said. “I also write one.”
Rex’s eyes got wide. “Really. I always see Gemma reading them and I wondered how people have the time to write all that stuff down. Do you get paid for it?”
“Yeah,” Nina said proudly. “I’ve monetized the blog. It’s a full-time job.”
Rex had more and more questions about blogging, so Nina indulged him.
Finally Jake disentangled himself from Erena. He tossed his empty paper plate in the fire and stalked over to the ice chest for a beer. The entire time, his light blue eyes were locked on Nina. Or maybe her legs, or her chest. She didn’t think he’d ever looked directly at her face, and he was doing it on purpose.
“So, Nina. What do you say we go for a run tonight? First one to the north fence wins.”
She wrinkled her nose up at him. “No thanks.”
He squatted next to her lounge chair, and his breath wafted over her face. She inched away from him. “You’d have
fun, trust me. I’m a lot of fun to be around, ask anyone.”
To hell with subtlety. Nina stood up. “I said, no thanks. Which was really no. And I meant it, so maybe you should go have fun without me.”
He stood up and glowered at her. “I think you’re being rude to me, pussycat. Maybe I should see if you have nine lives or not.”
Like she’d never heard that one before.
Rex growled from the other side of Gemma. “Take a hike, Jake.”
“Someone needs to tell this pussy that when you’re not in the clan, you don’t get to be rude. We take care of our own,” Jake said.
“She’s not being rude, you are,” Gemma said.
“I said go, Jake.” Rex stood up.
Nina worried that Jake would fight him. Jake’s fists were bunched at his side, dominant power bleeding through the air, so strong she almost thought she could see pulsing waves of gray and red.
Just as quickly, Jake turned around and stalked toward the woods.
Nina let out a shaky breath, trying to keep it quiet. She didn’t want to stir up trouble, but trouble was exactly what she was stirring up. Maybe, instead of staying on as she’d planned, she’d take off early. It sounded like a solid, sensible idea.
Then why did the lion inside her push her ears back and hiss at the very thought?
Twelve
Jameson’s final lecture of the day went fine. Unfortunately, he was barely aware of it. But the students looked marginally interested in his treatment of 20th Century British Poets and how he connected the poets’ real-life struggles to the poems themselves.
“After all,” Jameson said, ending the lecture, “not all of these men and women were celebrities during their time, but some of them are very popular now. Their words are lasting, they are universal. These are the kinds of truths we need to know, in our hearts, to understand the world around us.”
As he was packing up his things, Jameson checked his phone. A text from Rex, of course.
The tone of the text was—and there was no other word for it—smug. Saucy? Sauced. The wolf shifter was drunk.
Should see her blog, man. The cat’s got claws. Sexy claws. I know you want her.
What? Jameson frowned at the screen. Sexy cat claws? Obviously he was talking about Nina, but what blog? He typed out, What are you talking about?
