by Holley Trent
“You single or do you have a guy back at home you haven’t beaten up?”
Eric cracked his knuckles again, this time under the table.
Maria pushed her wild hair behind her ears and let out a wistful-sounding sigh. “I’m a free agent. I like it that way.”
Like hell you are.
“Lots of free agents like you down in North Carolina?”
“Why do you ask?”
Jim leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “It’s a fuckin’—oops, sorry kids—meat shop around here. Real testosterone imbalance, if you get my drift.”
She twirled the end of her hair and turned the page of her menu. “Well, I wouldn’t say there are a lot like me, but I’m certain I could rustle up a few ladies who’d be interested in keeping you company…at least for a night.”
“I like the way you think.”
“I’m a practical lady. I should warn you that those ladies are Bears. Do them wrong, and you’ll have two-hundred-plus pounds of angry alpha wanting to take bites out of your Coyote rumps.”
“And I’m hearing that’s the difference between Bryan and Gene. Gene doesn’t really give a rat’s aaaah…” Jim’s gaze flitted between the kids, who looked up at him, back to Maria. “Patootie about the safety and security of the clan members.”
Eric grunted and leaned back for the waiter to put a coffee cup and saucer in front of him. “I think that’s a fair assessment. Fortunately, I haven’t had the bad favor of ever being in his company.”
“You are blessed,” Marty muttered. “I have.”
“You aren’t from around these parts, are ya?” Jim asked Marty. “And by ‘these parts,’ I mean the western hemisphere.”
The waiter left a coffee carafe at each end of the table and plopped his fists onto his narrow hips. “Should I come back or are ya gonna keep ignoring me like you’re not here to eat?”
Jim rolled his eyes. “We’re gonna order just to get you out of our hair.”
The waiter pulled out his pad and made his way around the table, coming last to Eric. “And for you,” he cooed.
“Give me the three-meat deal and add on an extra rasher of bacon, please.”
The waiter’s gaze skimmed down what he could see of Eric’s body. “Where the heck are you gonna put it all?”
“I have a bear of an appetite.”
“Ooh, I like that. I’ll see if I can get the cook to throw in some extra sausage, too. I really like the sausage.”
“I bet,” Jim muttered.
The waiter went away, and Jim threw up his hands with exasperation. “You couldn’t maybe get some extra pork for the rest of the table?”
“I didn’t want to lead the guy on.”
Maria giggled and grabbed a couple of sugar packets from the cup. “Oh, he would let you run roughshod over him. He was just happy you didn’t punch him in the nose. I could tell.”
“Why would I even do that?”
“Some guys don’t like being hit on by other guys.”
Eric shrugged. “I guess I’m used to it. I’m a single man who runs a lodge. People make all kinds of wild assumptions about why there’s no Mrs. Falk.”
“Why isn’t there a Mrs. Falk?” Jim asked. “Just curious. From what I know about Bears, they tend to have a more aggressive drive to pair off than the rest of us critters.”
Especially this time of year. Eric thought it but sure as shit wasn’t going to say it. He didn’t want to hear the commentary Maria would probably provide.
The only reason Eric’s cock wasn’t in a constant state of high alert was because of the composition of their travel party. If he’d been traveling with only adults, there would have been nothing stopping him from touching Maria at every turn.
“There is no Mrs. Falk,” Eric said, “because the lady I want to marry has this misguided notion that she’s a free agent.”
All three Coyotes turned to look at Maria at once.
She stirred her coffee, expression serene.
Eric gritted his teeth. I’ll deal with you later, Shrew.
“Huh,” Jim said. “Well, good luck with that. Now, back to you, Mr. Weird Accent.”
Marty shrank a bit in his seat.
“Oh, come on. I’m not gonna mess with ya…unless you’re gonna mess with me. You’re not gonna mess with me, are ya?”
Marty gave his head a hard shake. “Look, I just want to collect my wife and take the kids away. I’m tired of this. I’m just…I’m tired. I don’t want to do this anymore. I didn’t want to be a Bear.”
Eric bobbed his eyebrows. “Neither did I.”
“You got turned against your will?” Jim asked Marty.
Marty nodded. “I had the misfortune of having a fender-bender with Gene many years ago as I was backing out of a parking space. He didn’t want to call the insurance companies, and insisted I owed him.”
“He turned you over a dent to his bumper?” Maria asked, dark eyes flashing with anger.
Marty winced and rotated his wedding band around his finger. “He had me turned. Couldn’t be bothered to do it himself. He’s had people turned for far less grievous offenses. I had planned on finishing seminary and going back to Europe, but that was out of the question. The only good that came out of the ordeal was that I met my wife. She was the one who was forced to take care of me during my first moon shift.” Wringing his hands, he looked to Eric. “When will I get to see her? I miss my Keely.”
Eric had a pretty good idea of how he felt, and the object of Eric’s interest sat just two chairs away. “I don’t know when we’re going to meet. I think we’ll know soon.”
Jim chuckled. “That’s actually up to me. We’re just waiting for our security guy to clear your backgrounds, and if everyone checks out, we’ll escort her into town and get you together. We should know by morning what’s up.”
Progress.
The sooner Marty, Keely, and the kids were squared away, the sooner Eric could be alone with Maria. He needed some alone time with her so he could call her out about that “free agent” comment.
“We can put you up for the night at my mother’s house,” Jim said. “She’s got a farm on the outskirts of town and spare rooms. Either that, or you could sleep in the RV. Up to you.”
“We wouldn’t want to inconvenience your mother,” Maria said.
“No inconvenience. She thrives on human—or almost-human, anyway—contact. I guess we Coyotes aren’t good enough company for her, and she wants to try Bears on for size.” Jim sniffed indignantly.
Apparently, even Coyote alphas had mommy issues.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Although Eric seemed more than a little agitated about the wait-and-see plan they were subscribing to at the moment, Maria appreciated having a chance to sleep in a real, clean bed for a few hours before moving on to the next place. Even if it meant sleeping with Nina’s limbs flung over her body and waking frequently due to the child’s chattering in her sleep.
When Maria’s phone buzzed under body, she rolled her eyes against the pillow and considered ignoring it.
Don’t. Wanna. Move.
She was exhausted and wanted more than anything to have a regulated schedule in which sleep came at the same time every day and she’d have more than one day off in a row. Apparently, she’d blinked and missed landing firmly into the throes of adulthood if the idea of regimented sleep now made her giddy.
Things’ll be better after the girls are back from maternity leave.
She blew a raspberry against the pillow, and the phone buzzed once more.
“I’m not here,” she whispered to the phone.
When Sarah was back on full duty and Astrid on the way back in, Tamara would probably be on the way out. She and Bryan hadn’t mentioned kids of their own to the group, but Maria didn’t see how they could hold off indefinitely. Bryan was a lusty Bear and family was one of the most important things in his life.
Dana would figure something out. She always did. Even if they had to refuse some
cases for a while until they shored the agency’s staff up a bit. The money was good, but at what cost?
The next time the phone buzzed, Maria groaned and wedged her hand beneath her belly and the mattress to pull it out. She held the phone at arm’s length, eyes blurry, and squinted at the message on the screen.
Come to the laundry room.
It was from Eric.
Groaning, she tapped out, Why? with her thumb.
So we can talk. Everyone’s asleep except Mrs. West. She’s doing farm chores before breakfast. Come here.
Maria scoffed. Asleep for good reason. It’s only eight.
I’ll make it up to you.
How?
Come. Here.
“Damn it.” She pushed back the covers. Somehow, she managed to gently extricate herself from Nina’s tangle of limbs without waking the child and, rubbing her eyes, Maria padded down the dim hallway.
They’d gotten in at around four. Mrs. West hadn’t given them much of a tour, but given the hour, Maria hadn’t expected one. Still, Maria seemed to recall that they’d passed the small laundry room after entering the farmhouse’s back door.
She made her way through the kitchen, lingered long enough to lift the towel over something on the counter to find rolls rising, and walked to the adjoining laundry and utility room.
Eric leaned against the wall that had the small window, looking menacing in the near darkness, and like walking sin in nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants.
She swallowed hard and pulled her gaze up from the teasing cut of his abs that seemed to point down to the noticeable bulge between his legs.
“Close the door,” he said over the whir of the washing machine. “Lock it.”
“What do you want?”
“Bear wants to touch what’s his.”
“Bear needs to go look for it, then.”
“No need to look. You’re right there.”
“Eric—”
“Close the door, Maria, and lock it.” His voice may have been level and calm, but she could sense that he wasn’t in the mood to negotiate. He wasn’t going to be brokering any allowances for her. He wanted to close her into that tiny room to fulfill some craving of his, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it.
He notched his thumb into the waistband of his pants and brought down the front. His cock slapped against his belly, and his hand went to the base, squeezing, brazenly tugging.
She closed the door and locked it.
Turning to him, she found him in her space, and his lips came down over hers.
Automatically, they parted for him, and she encouraged his probing tongue’s exploration of her mouth and his hand’s press against her breast.
No long, sensual lead-up. He wanted what he wanted. She didn’t know how much he wanted—she wasn’t the kind of psychic who’d be able to discern that—only that he needed to touch.
And for once, she wanted to be touched.
She slipped her hands down the back of his pants and grabbed his muscled ass, squeezing and kneading as his hot mouth tracked down to her sensitive neck.
He kissed and licked, tugged her neckband aside and bit without breaking the aroused flesh.
She raised her shirt up by the hem for him and thrust her breast against his lips. “Suck it,” she whispered, and he didn’t pause to consider it.
He drew her nipple into his mouth and more, flicking his tongue against the sensitive end as his teeth abraded the skin of her heavy-feeling breast.
His arms encircled her ass, and suddenly she was up, sitting on the edge of the folding table. “Wanna fuck you so bad, you have no idea,” he growled against her ear. “Wanna bend you over right here and shove my cock into you. I bet you’re wet. I already know I wouldn’t last long inside you, but I’d wrap my fist around your hair and keep fucking you until my dick went soft. That’s what the bear wants. He wants your ass in the air and no resistance from you. He likes it when you don’t move so he can have his way.”
“Do it.”
“No.” He brought his lips to hers once more and pushed his hand into her shorts and then into her panties. No teasing, no whisper-light strokes building up to the breach. He shoved two fingers into her sheath and pressed his thumb to her clit.
The surprise orgasm stole her air—not that she’d had much to spare in the first place with Eric kissing her so urgently.
But he didn’t let up then. Growling, he shoved another finger into her and moved his lips to her ear. “I always know what you need. Why don’t you just let me give you what you need?”
Even if she’d had a response for that, she couldn’t draw the air to say it. His fingers inside her were moving too furiously and her body shook in an unending shudder.
“I know who you are,” he said. “I know what you’re like, and I love you anyway. Just let me have you.”
“I can’t,” she said as yet another orgasm made her throw her head back. “Fuck. Fuck.”
“Why not?” he snarled. He pulled his fingers free of her, but kept his thumb pressed to her swollen clit. “Why can’t you?”
“I just can’t.”
“Give me a better answer, Maria. I deserve a better answer than that. You don’t want me? Is that what it is? After all these years of us fucking, you just don’t want me for more than that?”
She grabbed his wrist, and whimpering, moved his hand away from her tender sex. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” He leaned his ass against the utility sink and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t hesitate. Spit it out before you have a chance to sanitize the words. Give me the truth so I know what to do with this flame I’m carrying for you. If it needs to be doused, fucking tell me now before this hormonal mess gets worse, and I end up getting even more attached to you. Because once this bear sticks to you, he’s not going to want anyone else.”
Jaw frozen from shock, she couldn’t do what he said and spit out the words. It wasn’t because she was trying so hard to sanitize them, but because she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t mind so much the idea of his inner bear attaching itself to her. She could admit that her ego was healthy enough that the idea of locking down the gorgeous Eric Falk gave her pleasure.
She just didn’t know how to do what he wanted—or be what he wanted.
“Tell me why you can’t be mine, Maria. Give me a good reason, and I’ll leave you the fuck alone.”
“I don’t have one.”
It took a moment for the words to register as having come out of her mouth, but there they were. She’d confessed it. The truth she’d been swallowing for two years and that was sickening her from the inside out. Mom-mom Falk had been right—unspoken thoughts became too heavy after a while. Too toxic.
He pursed his lips as if he couldn’t make sense of the taste of them, and she quickly added, “I don’t know how to do this. You want me to give myself to you? Well, I don’t know how to do that.”
She’d had lovers before Eric, sure, and even a few men she’d called boyfriends, but none of those encounters had held the same degree of emotional intensity of simply being in the same room with Eric. She was afraid of him and didn’t know what to do with him. The “no strings attached” rule wasn’t going to work anymore. He’d already crossed the line and dropped that L-word, and she couldn’t just pretend she hadn’t heard him.
He loved her. He wanted her weird ass, and, damn, she wanted to be wanted, but she didn’t see how it could work. He’d get tired of her when his bear soothed at the end of the season. She was sure of it. He’d feel attached to her, sure, but he wouldn’t want to be around her all the time. Surprisingly, that was what she craved. Having him around made her less angry and less reckless.
She felt safe, wanted, loved.
Her life had been nomadic and unstable for so long, that she didn’t know what it felt like to have things last.
Some empath I am.
He let out a long, frustrated-sounding exhalation and straightened up. “You don’t
need to know how to want someone back. You just do it.”
“I do want you. I just…” Don’t know how to keep you. Shaking her head, she slipped down from the table and went to the door.
He didn’t try to grab her as she unlocked it, and didn’t follow her as she walked through it.
She hurried to the bathroom and locked herself in, turning on the shower so no one could hear her sob.
She didn’t even know what she was crying for, only that she had to let the tears out just like she had with those words.
Maybe once I do, I’ll come up with a good lie for him.
Something that’d keep him from pursuing her once and for all.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Maria was giving Eric a wide berth, and that suited him just fine for the time being.
He didn’t know what else to say to her. He’d put on his cards on the table and shown her every one of them. He’d left nothing to doubt on his end, and yet she was still so resistant. He didn’t know if the other Shrews were so troublesome or if he was the lucky recipient of an extra-special blend of stubbornness. He did know, though, that he needed to put a little space between him and her so he could keep things in perspective. He loved her—that wasn’t going to change— but maybe she needed to be handled in a way he hadn’t conceived of yet.
Jim, arriving with his Coyote lieutenants, parked his motorcycle near the farmhouse porch and gave Eric a wave of hail.
Eric waved back, and leaned against the porch railing.
“Sleep well?” Jim shouted as he tucked away his helmet.
“For a few hours, yeah.”
“You can sleep when you’re dead.” Jim thundered up the steps in heavy boots and all that leather and joined Eric at the railing. “Where’s the party? It’s quiet here.”
“Your mother put Marty and the kids to work. They’re helping her clean out the barn, I think.”
“Sorry about that. Mom probably thought she needed to get them out of your hair for a while so you could do business. She is an opportunist, though. I can’t come over here without her trying to spring some three-hour chore on me.” He rocked back on his heels and wriggled his eyebrows as his friends—Hardy and Nate—climbed the steps. “So. Where’s your pardna?”
