Talia rolled her eyes and dragged Gemma back towards the master bedroom. “Gemma, you’re going to wrinkle up and dry out if you keep staying at home with a two-year-old,” she snapped. “Come on, get dressed.”
Thirty minutes later, Talia and Gemma were crammed into the backseat of Tony’s subcompact car, on the way to a club on the outskirts of town. Talia talked to the guys as they drove, chattering and chirping at every interesting bit of scenery they passed. Gemma stared at her phone, silently wishing for Rock to text her.
“Here we are,” Tony said in a grand voice. He’d pulled into the parking lot of a divey-looking bar covered in red brick. “You ladies like?”
“I love,” Talia gushed in a flirtatious voice. I stared at her, suddenly wondering if I knew this person at all. Whenever Talia was around a guy, she always acted so differently than her normal personality. She was like a changed person, someone Gemma didn’t understand in the least.
“It’s fine,” Gemma muttered as she climbed out of the car. “Thanks for the ride.”
Tony and Matty gave Gemma a funny look. “Of course, babe,” Matty said. He snaked an arm around Gemma’s waist and she twisted away, pushing him gently in the chest. “What’s your problem?”
“Gemma’s inexperienced,” Talia said in a sing-song voice that made me want to slap her. “Come on, let’s go get drinks!”
Inside the bar was smoky and dark. The guys bellied up to the bar and came back with a tray of shots and four glasses of beer. Gemma already felt nauseous, like her hangover from the day before was coming back with a vengeance. She sipped at her beer and gazed around.
“This looks nice,” Gemma said politely. “I haven’t been here before.”
Matty laughed as if she’d said something hilarious. “It ain’t nice,” he grinned. “It’s poppin’, after dark especially.” Matty pointed up at the stage. “There’s a band playin’ later,” he added, winking at Gemma. She felt sick. “You wanna dance with me?”
“I hate dancing,” Gemma mumbled. Rock, I’m sorry, she thought in her head. I’m so sorry. I hate this!
“Gemma, don’t be such a loser,” Talia said. “Come on, dance with me!” Talia pulled Gemma up from her chair and waltzed her towards the middle of the dance floor. A seductive, rhythmic beat was pulsing from the big speakers in the corner of the room and Talia shook her hips and wiggled her body towards Gemma, acting like a video girl from the 80s. Gemma blinked.
“I don’t feel well,” Gemma said. “I’m going to sit down.”
“Oh, no you’re not,” said a voice from behind her. Gemma turned around to see Matty. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her close. When she was close to him, he smelled like nasty, cheap cologne and he had bad breath. Gemma tried to push him away but Matty grabbed her wrists and pulled her back towards him, in a gross approximation of dancing. As Gemma tried to pull away, Matty put his hands on her chest and squeezed her breasts through her top until Gemma was blushing and shrieking in horror.
“Leave me alone!” Gemma shrieked. She ran away from the dance floor, tears blurring her vision. I have to get out of here, she thought frantically. Maybe I can go outside and get a cab, anything! As she ran in her high heels, she wasn’t looking where she was going and in a few seconds, she crashed into something big.
“Gemma?” The voice was familiar, and sounded surprised. “You okay?”
With tears still in her grey eyes, Gemma looked straight up into Rock’s face. He was looking down at her with concern and affection in his golden eyes and she practically melted against his burly frame, collapsing into his arms.
“I’m taking you home,” Rock said to Gemma’s ear. “Come on.” Gemma couldn’t speak as Rock wrapped his strong arms around her and lifted her into the air. She was barely aware of being carried out to the parking lot and propped up against the side of Rock’s truck.
“Thank you,” Gemma murmured. “My sister, she dragged me out here and she’s with these slimy guys.” Gemma glanced down.
“It’s fine,” Rock assured her. He opened the passenger door and lifted her up onto the high bench seat. “Wait here for a minute, okay?”
Gemma nodded. Even though she’d only been out for a little bit, she felt exhausted. She watched as Rock loped back into the bar, an angry and determined look on his face. Closing her eyes, she even managed to relax a little.
When Rock came back to the car, he was breathing hard and his shirt had ripped at the collar. Gemma examined him carefully. “Oh, no,” Gemma said softly as she reached out and touched a bruise on his face. “Are you hurt?”
Rock laughed. “Not hardly,” he said. “Don’t worry about me,” he added. “What I’m worried about is you,” he said, in the most serious tone that Gemma had ever heard him use. “Are you alright?”
Gemma blushed. She slunk down low in the seat. “I’m fine,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
The whole ride back to Gemma’s house, she was silent. She couldn’t figure out how to explain that she’d fucked up, and part of her still thought that Talia was probably right. After all, Talia was her older sister. Talia knew better, that was why she’d always given Gemma advice. Never mind the fact that she’d been wrong sometimes, she had to be right about men, right?
Rock pulled into the driveway and shifted his truck into park. “Can I come in?”
Gemma slid out of the passenger seat before he could turn the engine off. “I’ve got to go,” she said breathlessly. “I’m sorry, Rock.”
Before he could answer, Gemma darted off and into the house.
Chapter Four
In the morning, Gemma lay in bed for a long time. She could hear Arthur was up and yelling for breakfast but she couldn’t even make herself feel motivated enough to go feed her son. Instead, she pulled her phone into her hand and scrolled through the news. Rock had texted and called all night, and she’d eventually just muted his number. Now she didn’t exactly feel better, but her stomach had stopped twisting into knots.
You can’t keep chasing someone who doesn’t really want you, Gemma thought grimly whenever she began to miss Rock. You know he doesn’t want a relationship, just sex. That’s what Talia said.
One of the headlines from the previous day caught her attention. “Bear Goes Wild In Local Bar!” The headline proclaimed, as if it was something that happened occasionally, like the big mattress sales on Memorial Day. Gemma stifled a laugh as she read through the piece – apparently, somehow a bear had gotten into the bar that Talia, Tony, and Matty had taken Gemma to the day before. It must have been right after we left, she thought to herself with a grin. I would have liked to see that. The paper didn’t mention anything too bad – apparently the bear had chased two patrons outside (an Anthony Trevari, 34, and a Matthew Frimg, 31 – both locals) and then disappeared.
Gemma’s phone rang and she answered automatically, hoping that it would be Rock. Instead, Talia’s voice shrieked hysterically at her from the receiver. Gemma winced and pulled the phone away, rubbing her forehead with her hand.
“Tals, what is it? What the hell are you screaming about?”
“A bear, Gemma,” Talia said, sounding exasperated. “A fucking bear came into the bar! It chased Tony and Matty away, and I haven’t heard from Tony since!”
Gemma couldn’t help but giggle. “Serves them right,” she said, too low for Talia to hear. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay,” Talia said. She sounded annoyed. “I can’t believe it, though. Can you? A bear? I didn’t even know there were bears around here!”
Gemma laughed again. “Yeah, that is crazy,” she agreed. The doorbell rang and she put the phone down for a second, her heart slamming against her chest. “Hey, Talia, I have to call you back,” she said quickly. “Someone’s at the door.”
Gemma walked nervously into the front hall. Arthur was shrieking in his room and she went in and grabbed him, holding him firmly on her hip as she opened the door.
Rock was standing there. His hands were
twisted in front of him and he looked deeply upset. “Can I talk to you?”
Gemma let out a shaky breath. “Sure,” she said, stepping back. “Come on in.” As Rock came into the living room and lowered himself down onto the couch, Gemma felt self-conscious about her ragged yoga pants and ratty t-shirt. Arthur was evidently happy to see Rock – instead of being shy like he normally was, he was grabbing with his little hands and reaching out for Rock’s big body.
“Sorry,” Gemma said. “He’s unusually active this morning.” She set Arthur down in his playpen and watched as he crawled around, picking up pieces of a toy train and slamming them down on the floor. “What’s up?”
Rock swallowed hard. “Gemma, this sounds crazy,” he said. “But I’m Arthur’s father.”
Gemma’s jaw dropped. “What?” The word came out softly.
Rock nodded. “It’s true,” he said. “Haven’t you ever wondered why he doesn’t really look that much like you? Or about his eyes? Or about his immense strength and size for a two-year-old?”
Gemma felt like someone had punched her in the gut. She nodded. “Yeah, but-“
Rock shook his head. “No, let me finish, please,” he replied. “Gemma, I’m a bear shifter.” When she didn’t react, Rock kept going. “My clan – the other bear shifters and I – were contacted by Speculon Labs for a research project. They wanted us to donate sperm. It was stored at Speculon, and somehow there was a mix-up…..I fathered a child. And it was Arthur. We were contacted by a lawyer last week, and I’ve been searching for you and Arthur ever since.”
Gemma stared. A million thoughts were running through her head. “Is that why you came to the party?”
Rock nodded. He gave her a sheepish smile and Gemma felt some of her resistance melting away. “I had to see you and my son,” he said in a deep voice. “I had to. It was like…well, I can’t explain it, but it felt like a need,” Rock finished. “Do you understand?”
Gemma wasn’t sure that she did, but she nodded anyway.
“The other guys, I mean the other bear shifters, well, they’re my family. We always looked out for each other,” Rock said gruffly. “But now I’m thinking that I’m going to have to leave them.”
Gemma frowned. “Why?”
Rock laughed again. “Because I found my mate,” he said softly, reaching out for Gemma’s hand. There was a small, electric thrill that ran up Gemma’s spine when Rock touched her, more powerful than before. Suddenly, she understood.
“Are you kidding me?” Gemma wanted to believe Rock’s words more than anything, but suddenly she was afraid. She’d spent her whole life alone, and she couldn’t handle the disappointment if Rock wanted to walk away. After all, it wasn’t very likely that her soulmate would literally stumble into her backyard.
“No,” Rock said. “I’m very serious.” He paused. “I never thought I wanted to become a father, but as soon as I found out about you and Arthur, I knew I had to be with you,” he said slowly. “I want to be with you, Gemma.” He waved a hand in the air. “I had my fun in the past, but you’re my future. You and Arthur.”
Tears formed in Gemma’s eyes and she wiped them away hastily. “I want you, too,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry I ignored you before….I, I thought I was doing the right thing.”
Rock stood up and walked over to Gemma, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. As he nuzzled her ear, Gemma felt a sexual and emotional thrill shoot through her body.
“Now that I have you,” Rock whispered softly. “I’m never letting you go, ever again.”
Gemma’s heart warmed and she snuggled closer against his muscular body. “This is what I’ve always wanted,” she said. “You. A family. A real family.”
Rock kissed the top of her head, sending a rush of pleasure through Gemma’s body. “I feel exactly the same way,” he said, squeezing her close.
Gemma knew that somehow, despite all odds, she’d managed to finally find her happy ending. She closed her eyes as Rock’s lips met hers, kissing her in a way that made her feel safe, loved, and warm. She knew that for the rest of her life, they’d be together. My happy ending, she thought as another tear ran down her cheek. Finally.
Breakwater: Leo
Star Bears I
by
Becca Fanning
As a little girl, Annie had pictured how her dream wedding would go. She’d wear a white dress and walk down the aisle, looking out over a sea of smiling faces as she approached the altar. Her groom she had pictured less as a specific person and more as an amalgamation of traits she wanted: kind eyes, a warm smile, broad shoulders… things she associated with a gentle, good-hearted man. Her mother would be alive, and her father would be sober.
She had always known this little fantasy of hers had been a mess of impossibilities. She just hadn’t pictured it going this awry.
Running a hand over the bodice of her dress, Annie stared at herself in the mirror. Her reflection looked morosely back out at her. One pale, manicured hand ran over the bodice of her gown, fingers tracing over the thousands of crystals dotting the fabric like stars. Annie had never been this close to a diamond before. She’d certainly never thought she’d be wearing this many of them. Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head in an elaborate series of braids and curls and there was shimmering powder swiped across the lids of her grey eyes, making them seem bigger and brighter.
Annie had never looked better, and she had never felt worse.
Not for the first time since she had received the news of her own impending nuptials by way of her father drunkenly sweating through a confession, Annie cursed at the series of mundane-to-regrettable events that made up her life. She’d always been told growing up that if she worked hard enough, she could be and have anything she wanted. Bright-eyed idiot that she had been, she hadn’t realized that it was just a condescending platitude doled out to the have-nots of the universe to make them more complacent with their lot, to shift the blame away from the people overworking and underpaying their employees. Instead, she’d planted her feet, ignored the throngs of people she’d known growing up who worked hard day in and day out and barely had enough to eat, and decided to become a politician.
She’d ended up as a waitress at dive bar instead. It hadn’t been all terrible—the other servers were friendly and she got free drinks—but spending anywhere between eight and fifteen hours a day avoiding groping hands and belligerent drunks hadn’t been how she wanted to spend her life. This was without her father showing up and explaining that he needed money—just this once!—and that he wouldn’t spend it all on cheap booze, only for a friend of his to call her to come pick him up once he’d drunk himself unconscious. At the time, it hadn’t seemed like much, just a continued state of existence tinged by the frustration that she could be so much more. Now it seemed like paradise. It was funny what made you learn to appreciate what you had. Sometimes it was a death, or a breakup, or getting fired. Sometimes it was your father telling you he’d accidentally sold you into being what amounted to a sex slave for a demonic autocrat with a warship that could eat the sun and a private army decked out in gear reminiscent of Civil War uniforms.
Annie had laughed when her father had first broken the news, and she hadn’t laughed again since. The next week had been a blur of the sickening realization that no, it wasn’t a joke, and she needed to go to a meeting point, where Captain Jacob Strathmore of the ITC Appomattox had looked her over with his pale eyes like she was a side of meat and declared her acceptable as a wife so long as she knew her place. She’d been whisked away for fittings and lessons. The dress, decorations, and a priest had appeared seemingly by magic. It was impressive what one could do when his footsteps echoed across the universe. It had been so hectic that Annie had barely had time to plan her escape.
The best course of action, of course, would have been to disappear while still planetside, but that hadn’t been an option. As it were, she had looked at her choices, fluttered her eyelashes at the gaunt, spidery t
yrant who owned her, and done her best to seem cowed. She had convinced him that he couldn’t see her in her dress, and he had smirked down at his pretty, witless bride-to-be and agreed to adhere to her charming little superstition. He had, of course, had a few of his agents watch her and serve as makeshift bridesmaids; all three of them lay unconscious on the floor, the spiked punch making a sticky puddle where one had dropped her cup on the way down. Annie felt a pang of remorse for the women who Strathmore would doubtlessly punish severely when he discovered her absence, but then again they had all continued to wake up and put on their horrendous uniforms and do an unhinged warlord’s bidding day after day when the mechanics behind putting a blaster to their heads and pulling the trigger were fairly simple. She quelled her sympathy and checked the hallway outside her door.
Owen (BBW Western Bear Shifter Romance) (Rodeo Bears Book 2) Page 15
