by BA Tortuga
Chapter Twenty-Five
“HOW IS he? I want to see him.” Sam was getting toothy around the edges, the big cat pacing about Aaron and Marilyn’s crowded front room. Seriously, the eagles—one golden, one bald—had been charming, gracious, but Sam was… high-maintenance.
At best.
And he was missing the kids.
Brock nodded. “When he wakes up again, Sam.” Connor had gone kitty again, not sedated, just sleeping. “Eve will keep an eye on him right now.”
Gus grunted softly. “I like her. She’s got a head on her shoulders.”
As opposed to her baby daddy, who quite definitely didn’t. Brock coughed to cover his sudden laughter. That was probably inappropriate.
Aaron snorted, a longneck dangling from his fingers. “I know what you’re thinking, son. Lord, that was a sight.”
“That was damn impressive, man. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Me either. Didn’t know if it would even work.”
Gus shook his head but didn’t say anything. Aaron had been pretty much living for rehashing that story, and none of them were gonna stop him, as generous as he’d been with his home.
“Will he be able to travel soon?” Sam asked.
Marilyn shrugged, the move fluid, practiced. “He’s healing well. It’s a matter of pain. If he’s willing to go, then he can go. The trip is going to suck.”
Sam sighed. “I don’t want him to hurt, but we need a plan. Winter is coming early this year. The pack needs their Alpha home.”
Gus snagged Sam as he passed, neatly spinning him about so he sat abruptly on Gus’s lap. “We do need a plan. What are we going to do with twin bear cubs, for instance? We need a barn raising. Well, a cabin raising.”
“A couple of cabins,” Brock said, holding Gus’s gaze when those dark eyes landed on him. “Connor and I need a place. Something more than a room.”
“Sure.” Gus said it easily, which pushed Brock’s shoulders down from around his ears. “The loft will be a great room for Richie or Randi. They’ll need privacy.”
“I’ll contribute.” He wasn’t a freeloader, not a bit.
Sam snorted. “Connor contributes. He’s amazing, you know? His gift isn’t a nuisance.”
Ah, now Brock knew where Connor turned for relationship advice.
He took a deep breath and fought for a measured tone. “I get that. All new relationships take work, as I’m sure you two know.” He raised a brow at Sam and Gus.
Aaron slapped his leg. “Score one for the bobcat lover.”
“Oh shut up, birdbrain.” Sam grinned over at Aaron, shooting him a toothy smile.
“Bawk bawk.”
Marilyn rolled her eyes. “Boys. I swear, I’ve been outnumbered my whole life.”
“You should come visit us. We have a bunch of girls. All ages. All sizes.”
Brock snorted at Sam. “All wolves.”
“Until Miss Eve comes. She’s our first bear.” Gus sounded weirdly gleeful.
Sam pinched Gus’s hip. “Ah, the shifter sanctuary thing. You know, you thought my mom was nuts for taking in a cat and a blind wolf….”
“I know better now.”
Brock chuckled, touched deep down that these guys had accepted him—and Eve and the eagles—into their extended family.”
“How you gonna feed three bears, son?” Aaron asked Gus.
“We’ll figure it out. I’ll start bringing in sides of beef.”
“I got beef. Make you a good deal.”
“Aaron! We can talk about that later.” Marilyn sniffed. “We need to heal up Connor first, and get Evie settled before she gets too big to move.”
Tell them I’m ready to go. Connor stood in the doorway, front leg drawn up, swaying on his other three.
“Connor! Oh, brother! You scared the living shit out of me!” Sam rushed over, and Connor’s sudden fear hit Brock.
“Easy. Easy, Sam. He’s not feeling well.”
“Oh.” Sam jerked to a stop, then went down on one knee. “Connor?”
The stocky little body pushed into Sam, resting hard.
“There you are. Hey. Hey, the kids are so excited to hear you’ll be home for Halloween. They’re going to trick-or-treat at every cabin.”
Connor rubbed his cheek against Sam’s.
Brock grinned. “He says he’s ready to go, but I want him to have a few more days.”
“I don’t know,” Eve said, walking in from the back hall. “He scratched the heck out of me scrambling out of bed. He’s wicked strong.”
“We rented a van. We’ll put him in the back with Brock. We can’t just keep imposing on the Valks.”
Marilyn laughed. “Now, our kids never leave Provo or Salt Lake. It’s been good to have you. I do see why you want to get home, Sam. We’ll make a plan for day after tomorrow. That’s a fine compromise.”
“Are they skiers, your kids?” Brock could see it—feathered fliers.
“Tarrant and Wylie are. Ray is in real estate. He’s the one in the big city.”
Connor was singing, he thought, the sound random and odd, a little drunk. The sedatives and pain meds were making his lover goofy as hell.
Sam picked Connor up super gently and moved back to the couch. That let Eve into the room all the way, and Brock gave her his seat. Time for a powwow.
“Day after tomorrow will work,” Brock said. “We’ll need plenty of padding.”
“I’ve got a bunch of old blankets in the attic,” Marilyn offered. “So that won’t be a problem. I’ll have Aaron grab them, and I’ll start washing them.”
“I can help with that,” Eve said.
“I’ll get the van ready,” Sam agreed.
“What do you want me to do about my truck?” Brock asked Aaron. It was trashed.
“I’ll part it out. There’s enough on it to make a few bucks.”
“You’re welcome to anything you can get out of it. And Greg’s truck too.” He glanced at Evie, just to make sure she was okay with that plan.
Evie nodded, dark braids bobbing. “He’s nothing to me. These babies are safe. That’s all that matters to me.”
“Good deal,” Aaron said. “I can wash the stink out of it. It runs far better than my old clunker.”
“You’ll write me a checklist for Connor?” He glanced at Marilyn.
“I will, and I’m just a phone call away.”
“Only four hours, give or take,” Gus said, and Marilyn gave this wild screech.
“Way shorter as the eagle flies.”
“True.” Gus laughed, clapping his hands in apparent delight. “Never had friends who could fly before.”
“We’ll come visit one moon, hunt together,” Aaron offered, light eyes shining.
“That sounds amazing.” Brock looked at Connor, who lay half on Sam, half on the couch. “You saved my mate. Anything I can do for you. Ever.”
“Oh, Christ. He’ll take you up on that.” Marilyn shook her head. “Evie, love, come help me make food for all these yahoos?”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll make cookies for the road too.” Eve was obsessed with cookies. Brock thought that was adorable.
Connor caught his gaze. Love. This has been fun and all, but I want my bed.
I want that too.
Connor rubbed his tufted ear against Sam’s wrist. I can do it.
You can. He would help Aaron clean up anything he needed to, but Brock had to admit, he would be happy to let Gus drive and sleep with Connor in the back.
I want Mona to make me chili. I want pancakes. I want….
Then the thoughts stopped, Connor’s body going heavy with sleep.
Sam shot him a panicked look. “Did I do something?”
“Nah. He’s just working so hard at healing he has little energy for anything else.” Brock rose and limped over to gather his lover in his arms. “Back to bed with him.”
“Do you need help, Brock?”
“I have him.” The day he couldn’t hold Connor’s weight woul
d be the day they could put him in the ground.
“We’ll holler at you when it’s time for supper, son,” Aaron called.
Brock had to laugh. Aaron was a good man, obviously used to taking care of boys. A clutch, wasn’t that what they called a litter of eagles?
He wondered idly if they had all come at the same time….
He slipped Connor under the sheets before joining him only seconds later. Brock loved the even rise and fall of Connor’s chest, the ribs healing up.
Connor nudged his jaw, sighed, and then snuggled in, paws rolling dough on him.
Brock hummed, pulling up the covers. He could close his eyes for a second. Just a tiny bit….
Just for a minute.
Chapter Twenty-Six
IF GUS hit one more bump, one single solitary motherfucking bump, Connor was going to rip off the big asshole’s head and shit down his neck.
Twice.
No amount of homemade quilts could possibly make up for the potholes on this fucking highway.
I should have shit down Greg’s neck. Brock moved him a little, putting more Brock between him and the floor of the van.
That’s disgusting. Funny, but disgusting. Utterly deserved, still disgusting. You might have gotten motor oil on your asshole.
I might have. It still would have been a great gesture. Brock laughed against his neck, a tiny puff of air and sound. Are you hungry?
No. Which, okay, weird, but true.
Okay. Brock stroked his hair. I worry. You need to eat.
I know. When we’re home. You asked for chili for me?
I did, but I don’t know that you need chili on your stomach quite yet.
Chili. He knew what he wanted.
I did. Brock breathed with him for long moments. We need our own house, babe. What kind of place do you want to build?
Warm. Cozy. Lots of places to nap. He thought that an entire floor that was made up of mattresses would work, but then they’d have puppies in there playing 24-7.
God help us. We can build you a loft like Sam and Gus have. We can take the ladder down when we don’t want babies in there.
We could have a kitchen, a TV. Do you have things, Brock? Anywhere? Goddess, he’d never played his guitar for Brock.
I have a little place in Oklahoma. Kind of a tiny home at the lake. Not much there, but a few things. An old packmate watches it for me.
He didn’t like it when Brock sounded so melancholy.
Do you miss it? Do you miss him?
No. I miss the idea of my pack sometimes, but I have a new pack now. And a mate.
We’ll go get your things, and you can introduce me around. My sister will love to meet you. Probably. She’s a little… stodgy.
You have a sister? Brock sounded mildly surprised.
A sister, a brother-in-law, and three teenaged nieces. One is a finder like me. The others are going to be something boring like their momma.
What does your sister do? Brock pulled back from his neck to stare at him.
Nurse. Why?
Brock could be so weird.
I just wondered what was so boring.
Sam called to them. “We need to stop for Eve. You guys need anything?”
Pregnant ladies had to pee a lot. Especially when all they ate were cookies and drank a lot of tea.
“I want a PayDay and Ragbone here needs something—maybe a yogurt?”
No yogurt. He wrinkled his nose. Ramen noodles.
“Make that chicken ramen noodles,” Brock yelled.
“On it!” Sam sounded perversely pleased to be heading home.
Connor understood. The winter was promising to be awful and early, and he wanted to be settled in his little room.
Brock seemed pretty determined to get them their own place, but how were they gonna get cured lumber and a foundation before the snows?
He bet they’d winter in the loft together. That was okay. It was warm. There was a window.
If Brock lived in a pickup or hotels or a tiny house on the lake, he’d be fine in the loft.
“You’re thinking so loud,” Brock told him once the engine had gone silent and everyone went inside to pee.
I’m sorry. I don’t know how to stop it with you close. He’d try to fix it, to block Brock from it, but he didn’t know how yet.
No. I want to hear you. I just—it’s so different. Brock kissed him with aching gentleness. Never think I don’t want to hear you again.
The words made him tingle like he’d been for a roll in catnip-filled pillows. Love.
I’m sorry, Ragbone. I know I hurt you.
He shrugged one shoulder, the good one. He’d never thought that his brain was distracting, but it was his brain. He listened to himself all day every day.
Brock was way… deeper. Not like, oh, he’s a brooder, but like his thoughts were buried. As if Connor needed to pry them out with one of Gus’s pickaxes.
“Ragbone, that’s gross.”
Sorry.
Silly beast. Brock sat them up, moving him so gently he barely felt it. Not like the bumps in the road at all. Brock stretched, yawning hard.
Yours, huh? He could be silly. That was cool with him.
So mine. And I will beat you if you ever get this hurt again. Brock was always about the beating.
You’ll try. And he’d enjoy the attempt.
You did take on a bear. The warm, admiring glow in Brock’s dark eyes made him want to wiggle with happiness. Wiggling was not for him right now, though. Ow.
For you. I couldn’t lose you, butthead.
“Ramen noodles and a PayDay. Eve picked you both out a tea.” Sam gave them big green eyes, wide and exaggerated. “It’s weird, you not talking, Connor.”
He sighed, trying to say anything, but nothing came out.
“You should hear the trash he’s talking about you, Sam,” Brock murmured. “At least it’s iced tea.”
“When we get home, I’ll make us all gingerbread lattes, I promise.” Sam grinned. “Lots of cream.”
Connor gave Sam a thumbs-up. Brock nodded too. “Sounds good, bud.”
Gus poked his head in the back door. “Need to pee, Brock?”
“Nah. I’m good until we get home.”
He thought Brock might learn to like saying that. Home.
Connor was so proud he had given that to his mate.
God, he couldn’t wait to get some of Mona’s chili at home.
Soon.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
BROCK SLIPPED from the loft, tugging on a hoodie as he headed out through the back door. The kitchen smelled like blueberry muffins, but no one was around. He thought he’d heard the door open and close, though, which had broken the quiet that had descended since he and Connor had been home for the last two days.
Eve sat on the back porch, staring out at the sky, a steaming cup of tea in her hands.
“Ah. I thought I heard someone. How’s it going, kiddo?”
“Good. Good. Everyone is super friendly, and no one seems to want to bite me.” She smiled, rubbed her belly idly, and shook her head. “Also, I’m going to be the size of a house.”
“Well, you do have two bears in there.” He sat in one of the lazy hammock-style chairs the kitties loved so much. “This is a good place. I felt at home here the first day.”
“Was it totally bizarre—all these different people? Coyotes, wolves, mountain lions….”
“Shit, yeah. I mean, I thought cats were bad guys. And a coyote? I had no idea. I mean, I knew bears shifters existed, but y’all were my first.” Brock laughed. “You a little wigged?”
“More freaked-out that I’m not more wigged, you know? These folks just fold you in like you’re one of theirs. I don’t think that’s very common.”
“I don’t either.” He had to admire Gus and Sam’s determination to make all sorts welcome. “Marilyn said she would come help when it was time, huh?”
“Yeah, somehow I think that a first-time bear momma with twins is more than M
ona wants to deal with.”
“Oh, she’s up to it, honey. But Marilyn is tickled.” Marilyn also had all boys who had not found mates yet.
Evie laughed, the sound harsh and husky and sort of wonderful. “She’s a force of nature. Did you know her family disowned her for mating with a golden? That she walked away and never let them say anything against her kids?”
“No shit?” Honestly, he hadn’t thought about it, not even a little. They were eagles, for God’s sake. “You worried about your brothers?”
“My brothers? Nah. The rest of the clan? Yep.” She shifted her gaze back to the horizon. “We’ll see.”
“Well, you’re safe here.” Even without them, Gus and Sam were fierce, and from the rumors, Helena was like a fucking Valkyrie. Hell, he’d put Mona up against a bear if her babies were threatened.
“I know.” Her voice softened. “Somehow I knew it the minute I met Gus and Sam, but when we got here? I felt at home.”
“Right?” Brock snorted. “You have any idea how long I’ve done the lone-wolf routine? It’s been a learning curve.”
“Well, and the same with Connor, huh? I mean, how scary? To feel a call and know you have to follow it, even if it means getting hurt a lot?”
Brock sat there, a little stunned. He’d bitched about Connor’s talent and not once thought how it must feel for his mate. Connor never seemed worried.
Hell, Connor seemed completely confident, sure of every step, except maybe for that constant babble that might show some nerves.
Brock checked in on Connor in his head, following the lean body as Connor rolled over looking for him.
Love. Connor panted, tail swishing idly.
I heard someone out back. Just Evie. Muffins are smelling good. Should I bring you one? Brock swore half of Connor’s broken bones had healed immediately after he ate Mona’s chili.
I’ll come down. I’m just slow. Is it snowing?
Not yet, but the clouds say it will. He was surprised he wasn’t more upset by that. He’d really thought he’d want to build their own place right now, but the loft was so cozy, and he wanted Connor to feel better before they started working on it.
“You want a muffin?” he asked Eve. “Connor is coming down.”
