by Lily Cahill
“You have a date? Jeez, Tiff. With who? I thought none of the men in New Scandia were good enough for you.” Lacy scoffed. “Tiff Anderson is leaving our shitty little town behind and never looking back. She’s going to be a famous photographer.” She said it was an incredulous laugh in her voice, like Tiff’s dreams were ridiculous and a failure in the making.
Tiff wanting to leave their hometown had been a sore spot for Lacy ever since they were little. Lacy was happy with her life. She liked doing hair and hearing all the local gossip. She liked being a big fish in a small pond. But that had never been enough for Tiff. She’d made a big deal in high school about leaving for college and never coming back … but that was before her mom’s diagnosis, before family duty had pulled her back home.
But Lacy was right. Tiff had never hidden the fact that she wanted to leave, that she’d never be happy marrying a man she’d known since grade school and sending kids to the same classrooms where she’d grown up. But that didn’t mean she thought less of Lacy, and it hurt that Lacy thought so little of Tiff’s goals just because they were different from her own.
So it was with more than a little bit of spite that Tiff answered Lacy. “You’re right, Lace. None of the men in town are good enough for me. I’m such a snob that I only accepted a date with a rockstar.”
Lacy audibly gasped. “What? You’re fucking with me.”
“No, I’m not. Jax Hart asked me on a date.”
“He asked you? But you’re ….”
Lacy didn’t finish her thought, but enough was implied. Because she wasn’t thin enough. Because she wasn’t pretty enough. Because she wasn’t Lacy. Tiff muttered a good-bye and hung up, feeling wrung out and used up and just so tired. She was such a fool for thinking someone like Jax could find her appealing or sexy. Such a fool.
Chapter Nine
Jax
THE CROWD WAS JUST AS big as the night before. They screamed for Jax just like before. But something was missing now. It didn’t give Jax the thrill it had just twenty-four hours before. It was a rush, sure, but not anything like the rush he’d experienced with Tiff Anderson.
Jax’s fingers flew over his guitar, shredding through a solo that made the women in the audience go wild. But all Jax could think about was how those same fingers had worked Tiff into a frenzy only hours before. He’d never felt more accomplished than when he made her come. Jax grinned thinking of it, of her screaming his name, and it made some girls in the front row shriek for him.
Jax ran his hands up the neck of the guitar, and the solo melted back into the driving bass beat and heavy drums of the song. Just two more songs in the encore, then he’d be free. He’d see Tiff again. His body zinged with the anticipation of it.
After they’d made love for the first time earlier that day, Jax had felt a certainty imbue every cell of his body. It’d been one thing to dream of this woman for years, and another to finally meet her. But to connect with her on such a complete level … it was beyond anything he could have ever imagined. The moment their bodies had melded together as one, Jax was certain—absolutely certain—that this woman was it for him. She was the only person in the world who could make him truly happy, and he was the only man for her.
But he had to convince her of that. Mate-lore had colored his childhood. It wasn’t just campfire stories with his Uncle Mac and other clan boys, but genealogy. Finding his true mate and continuing the line of bear shifters was written into his bones.
But it wasn’t so for Tiff. She had to choose him, and once she made that conscious decision to give her heart to a shifter, their fate would be sealed. It was all down to her, his future happiness, his future. Earlier, he’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed the change in her mood until she’d pulled away and asked him to leave. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what he could have done wrong. But one thing was sure, he wasn’t going to mess this up again.
The encore passed in a blur of sound and color. The lights burned, the air was thick, and the crowd roared … and then it was over.
Jax was first off stage, but his brothers were right behind him. He didn’t wear a watch on stage, and he groaned when he checked his phone: It was already 9:45. He shucked off the guitar and handed it to a roadie and was already turning to go when Chase caught him.
“Oh, Jesus,” Chase said, one hand on Jax’s shoulder, stopping him. “You’re going to see that girl, aren’t you? The one you think is your mate.”
Jax grinned. “Just think of it this way, now I won’t be stealing all the women from you.”
He grabbed keys for the rental—they always kept a small SUV on the road in addition to the tour bus—but the look on Bret’s face made him pause. His brother’s face was twisted with something close to pain.
“Bret? You okay?” He glanced at the stage door leading to the back lot then back to his older brother.
The emotion in Bret’s face had cooled into a calm mask. “Of course.”
Before Jax could press, Bret strode off. Jax palmed the keys, not sure if he should go after his brother. In the end, it was Derek who made the decision for him. The tour manager caught Jax’s eye, and he ducked quickly out the door to avoid him.
There was a private back entrance from the outdoor amphitheater that bypassed a lot of the traffic, but Jax was still going to be late to the diner.
Jax drummed impatiently against the steering wheel and jammed on the gas, speeding around a slower car. Surely she’d wait five minutes for him, right?
Lights flashed behind him, red and blue in the rearview mirror.
Fuck. Jax yanked the wheel and pulled over, annoyance coursing through him. He watched in his side mirror as a tall cop stepped out of his vehicle and ambled toward the SUV. Jax rolled down his window and leaned on the door frame.
“Sorry, officer. I’m with ….” He trailed off. The cop stopped just outside his door and peered down at Jax. The name on his uniform read Anderson. Could this be Tiff’s brother, Tyler?
Shit. Jax had been planning to talk his way out of the ticket, but he didn’t want to make a bad impression with Tiff’s family. He got the sense that family was important to Tiff. It was one of the things he liked about her. But if he didn’t get to that diner soon, it wouldn’t matter one bit how much he liked Tiff. She wouldn’t give him the time of day.
The cop sniffed and pushed back his hat. “Yeah, I know who you are. Don’t think you can weasel out of a ticket just because you’re a rockstar,” he said with a knowing quirk of his eyebrow. This definitely had to be Tiff’s brother. “I just had to ticket your tour manager yesterday afternoon when he was speeding on County Road W north of town in this exact same SUV. So I’m not in the mood for it.”
Jax took a deep breath and started over. Instead of trying for an excuse, he told the truth. “Officer Anderson?”
The cop grew leery. “That’s right.”
“Officer Tyler Anderson?”
He was frowning now—never a good sign when dealing with the police. “How the hell do you know my name?”
“Look, this sounds crazy, but I was speeding because I’m late to meet Tiff.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up. “My sister, Tiff?”
Jax nodded.
Officer Tyler Anderson rested his hands on his belt, uncomfortably close to his sidearm. “What are you doing with my sister?”
Lurid images flashed in Jax’s mind of all the things he’d done with Tiff and all the things he hoped to do. But his wild imagination withered under her brother’s stare. “N-nothing,” Jax said quickly. “I asked her to get dinner with me at the diner in town after the show.”
Officer Anderson glanced at his watch. “It’s awfully late.”
Jax grimaced. He considered midnight still early in the evening, so ten o’clock was practically afternoon, but he considered not everyone was a night owl. “I wish it could have been sooner, but I had to work.”
Officer Anderson laughed. “Right. Work.” He stared at Jax for a l
ong moment, and Jax fought the urge to fidget nervously under the probing gaze. “Okay, I’m going to let you go with a warning.”
Jax sat up tall. “Really?”
“Yes, really. A warning and a bit of advice. You show up late to meet my sister again, and she’ll hurt you in a way a speeding ticket can’t.”
Jax nearly laughed with relief.
Outside his window, Officer Anderson tapped his fingers against the roof. “Just don’t speed. And order the strawberry-rhubarb pie a la mode. It’s her favorite.”
It took everything in Jax not to spin the tires and take off, but he made himself stick to the speed limit all the way to the diner. By his watch, he was nearly twenty minutes late. He swerved the SUV into a spot and jumped out of the car, sprinting for the diner doors.
He nearly ran into Tiff as she was hustling out.
“Don’t go,” Jax begged.
Tiff tried to side-step him, but Jax grabbed her shoulders. She was in a simple black dress and beat up canvas tennis shoes, her dark hair piled on top of her head in a bun. God, she looked so delicious. Jax tamped down his desire. “Please, Tiff. Twenty minutes, I’m twenty minutes late, and you can blame it on that cop brother of yours.”
Tiff’s head jerked up, questions in her eyes.
“He pulled me over for speeding.”
Tiff winced. “Sorry.”
Jax shrugged and grinned. “He let me off, but he said I’d catch hell from you for being late.”
“My time is valuable. I really don’t appreciate it when someone keeps me waiting.”
Jax nodded. “Absolutely. I lost track of time on stage, but I should have been more respectful.”
His apology seemed to douse the fire of her anger.
“Maybe if you gave me your number,” Jax said. “Then I could get in touch if I’m going to be late next time.”
Tiff chewed on her lip, and Jax fought the urge to capture those lips with his mouth and kiss away any of her protestations.
“There’s no point giving you my number,” she mumbled.
A cold wave of disappointment swamped him. How could she be so resistant to their connection? Could she not feel that they were meant to be?
“Okay,” Jax said slowly, swallowing his frustration. “How about food? We can walk in together and start from scratch.”
Tiff peered up at him, her big eyes wide and wary. “Fine,” she finally said, and Jax felt he could breathe again.
Jax grinned and turned Tiff back around so they were both facing the diner. “Good. I’m starving.”
Jax nodded at the waitress standing behind the long counter and led Tiff to a secluded booth. There were only a few other occupied tables, and the place was warm and sleepy. Tiff slipped into the red-leather seat across from Jax and crossed her arms.
Now that they were here, he was oddly nervous. He’d spent the better part of his adult life on one-night-stands. But now he didn’t just desire Tiff’s body; he was overcome with the need to know her, to ask her a million questions and then a million more. He reminded himself they had a lifetime for that … if he could figure out how to convince her they were made for each other.
And that he was a bear.
Jax worked his jaw back and forth and stared at the menu. How did any bear shifters actually convince their mates of the whole insane concept? Was he supposed to drop it into casual conversation?
Hi. So, we’re fated to be together. Oh, how do I know? How about because I’m a mother-fucking bear, that’s how.
Yeah, he’d run screaming into the night too.
“You two ready to order?”
Jax swiveled his head to see the waitress standing over them, tapping a pen against her notepad. Jax nodded toward Tiff, but she just retreated further into the booth.
“I’ll just have a coffee,” she said.
This wasn’t going well.
Jax glancing back at the menu, haphazardly spouted off a list of items, then, “and strawberry-rhubarb pie a la mode, if you have it.”
“Are you trying to butter me up?” Tiff hissed with a glare as the waitress left.
Jax grinned. “I’m trying to pie you up, actually. Thank your brother.”
Tiff rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you’re wasting your time. There’s probably a line of women waiting for you back at the Firefly Festival.”
She wasn’t wrong. And it made Jax want to prove himself to her even more. But he also couldn’t help teasing. Something about Tiff brought that out in him.
“You have no idea,” Jax rumbled, leaning forward on his elbows. “It’s around the block. Just a bunch of women waiting for me sans panties. They camp out and show me their—oh, thank you,” Jax broke off, throwing a dazzling smile toward the waitress who’d returned with two coffees. She looked highly suspicious and glanced pointedly at Tiff before leaving. Jax held his arms out in front of his chest and mouthed the word “boobs.”
Tiff’s mouth dropped open, and Jax fell back against the leather booth, fighting a smile.
“This is such a mistake to be here,” Tiff said suddenly, grabbing her purse.
“Hey,” Jax said quickly. He shot his hand out across the table and laid his fingers against Tiff’s. “I’m just fucking around.”
Tiff glared down at where their hands touched. “I know. That’s the whole point, right?”
Jax didn’t let go, even as he felt Tiff tense under him. “Tiff, look at me,” he said, his voice deep. “I was kidding. I haven’t slept with anyone since this morning. There was this one woman, and she did things to me that I’m pretty sure have ruined me for life.”
Tiff dropped her eyes. “Please don’t string me along. I’m fine if this was a one-night-stand. I mean, I expect it.”
“It’s not. I mean, I don’t want it to be … unless you do.” Jax’s throat went tight around the words. What if Tiff didn’t want anything more from this. Jax’s heart stuttered at the possibility.
Tiff yanked her hand back suddenly, and Jax realized there was food being slid in front of him. A lot of food. How much did he order? Across from him, Tiff had dropped her head and was spinning her coffee mug around. After a second, she looked up at Jax and smiled. But it was edged with sadness.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she said.
“Like about how I ordered enough food to stuff a small village?”
Tiff’s smile crept toward her eyes. Wordlessly, Jax pushed a plated burger and fries toward her, and then the pie as well. He chewed a big bite of cheeseburger before he spoke again. “So, your photos are amazing. Have you ever sold any to magazines?”
Tiff laughed and rolled her eyes. “All the time. They’re lined up around the block to get my photos of northern Wisconsin. Oddly, they’re also not wearing panties.” She shook her head and grabbed a fork for the pie. “I’m trying, but it’s not easy to break into the national market. So for now, I’m building my portfolio however I can.”
Jax nodded, an idea budding in his head, and asked how she’d gotten into it.
Tiff got quiet for a moment and took her time sliding a bite of pie into her mouth. Her lips pursed around the fork tines, and the utensil slid out clean. Jax had to shift his body to hide how she affected him.
When Tiff looked up, her eyes were bright. “My mom. She was a brilliant photographer. I …,” she stopped and took a breath. “I was actually pre-law at college, but after my mom died, photography was the only thing that got me through it. That, and taking care of my family.”
Sympathy hollowed out Jax. “How long has she been gone?”
“Five years. She had cancer. It was … it was quick.”
“Mine’s been gone nearly two decades,” Jax said quietly, his eyes on his food. He suddenly didn’t feel like eating anymore. He never spoke about his mother with strangers. But Tiff wasn’t a stranger. Out of the corner of his eye, Jax sensed movement, then the booth moved. He looked over to find Tiff sitting next to him, her warm body pressed up against his. She took his
hand.
“I’m so sorry,” she said simply.
Jax squeezed Tiff’s hand. “Once she left, it was like she was written out of existence.” A delicate frown passed over Tiff’s features. “She abandoned us when I was six. My father … he’s not a good man, and he forbade us from even mentioning her name. I only knew she died a few years later because my uncle told us. Hit by a car. I didn’t even go to the funeral.”
“Oh, Jax,” Tiff said, her voice heavy.
Jax turned Tiff’s hand over and laced their fingers together. Just touching her gave him more strength. “I’ve actually tried writing songs about her … about it all, but the rest of our music is so different.”
“I’d love to hear those songs,” Tiff said.
“I’d love to play them for you someday.”
Jax looked into Tiff’s caramel eyes and didn’t hold anything back. He let all the love he felt inside for this woman burn in his eyes, in his face. It radiated from his body. And if Jax looked closely, he thought he recognized that same love starting to grow within Tiff.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said suddenly. Jax threw a hundred dollar bill onto the table, and hand-in-hand, they left the diner.
Chapter Ten
Tiff
THE STREETLIGHTS OF NEW SCANDIA glowed, their brightness only matched by the cascade of stars overhead. For all her longing to leave, Tiff would miss nights like this. The summer air was sweet, and townspeople were out late, laughter bubbling from coffee shop patio and live music wafting out the doors of the town bar.
Tiff squeezed Jax’s hand and failed to keep a giddy grin from stretching her lips. She still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. She was strolling through town on the arm of a bonafide rockstar.
She kind of hoped they ran into Lacy, just to see her friend’s face.
Tiff had gone to the diner preparing to remain cold and distant, but her heart cracked wide around Jax, and she couldn’t pretend. And it kind of seemed like he couldn’t either. Jax had opened up to her about things that she had to believe he hadn’t to others. Whatever was happening to them, Tiff realized she wasn’t going to deny it. She had to play this out and see where it was going.
