by Fel Fern
He smiled. “Looking forward to it.”
Chapter Eleven
“I can drive you,” Rick offered during their last night together.
His animal hovered so near the surface, angry and frustrated at the man who refused to listen. Craig turned so the human now faced him. A considering look crossed Craig’s face. He had a feeling it wasn’t just him who fought an inner battle. Fuck, but spending the last three days with Craig felt amazing. Almost too good to be true.
The town wasn’t big, didn’t have any fancy stores, but Craig surprised him by agreeing to a nature hike earlier that day. Recalling how Craig huffed and occasionally cursed, but continued to power on, made him smile. His little human had steel in him, Rick mused. Who else would voluntarily agree to go back to the woods, even after being attacked by wild wolves?
“It’s okay. I don’t want to trouble you,” Craig said too quickly.
Rick could argue, insist he wanted to, but Craig’s answer also relieved him. It would be painful to see Craig off, and he’d never really been good with farewells, either, so he didn’t ask again. Craig didn’t expect an argument, either, because the human placed his head on his chest. His heart hammered as he speared his fingers through the human’s hair and stroked it.
He’d miss this, quiet moments like this after an exciting round of sex and waking to the scent of Craig, all wrapped around him the next morning. Hell, he’d started looking forward to Craig visiting him at the bar at night. Craig would sit by the bar, watch the sports channel on the TV above the bar, read a magazine, or chat with any of his brothers.
Your possessive human’s keeping tabs on you, making sure no other guy would come onto you, Mac once joked. It surprised him that Craig, who initially got into a fight with Mac, suddenly became best friends with his brother.
His chest ached a little as he thought about what tomorrow would morning. Would it make him a bastard, if he slipped away before Craig woke up? Rick could make up an excuse that he had a work-related stuff that suddenly came up. Fuck that painted him like a cowardly bastard.
Oh, his bear hated the idea. His animal raged inside him. It took him several seconds to reel in his inner animal. Biting Craig would result in stealing Craig’s life, he reminded himself. Shifters couldn’t stay apart from their mates for long. If they did, their life force would slowly wither away.
He didn’t see himself moving to the city, either. This place was his home.
So as much as it gutted him, Rick let it go. Soon enough, Craig’s snores filled the room and sleep took him, as well.
* * * *
Two weeks later
Rick couldn’t wait to get out of his truck. He strode to the nearest line of trees next to the house and stripped down. His bear wanted out, no surprise. These days, he couldn’t survive one day without changing once or twice. His skin felt hot, feverish. Rick chucked his clothes and personal belongings to one side and reached for his bear.
The shift was painful as bones broke, reformed themselves, and fur covered his body. Once he hit all four paws, he ventured further into the woods. Rage moved his bear. During his run, he marked up a couple of trees, wanting to tear or wreck something, anything to get rid of the unsettling feeling of frustration welling inside of him.
Rick knew the cause of it. His bear couldn’t seem to accept the fact that Craig was gone. Sure, Craig might visit Danny in the future, but when would that be? Months, maybe a year later?
Too long. Rick waited too long, didn’t claim his mate when he could have, but he knew from personal experience what it was like, having his life stolen from him. Before his father passed away, he had other dreams. All he wanted was to finish college elsewhere, but instead, he had to worry about raising two unruly younger brothers who also happened to be dominant werebears.
Rick didn’t regret his decision, had been proud of himself for doing the adult thing and keeping his family together. In the process, he realized that this was home, and he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Craig was different. Craig had a successful career, lived in an entirely different world from Rick. Craig’s lifestyle felt alien to him, and Craig probably felt the same about small town living. He went deeper into the woods, distinctively aware of the presence of another shifter tailing him at a discreet distance.
Rick let out an impatient snarl. Mac did a piss-poor job of following him. He recognized his brother’s scent anywhere. If Mac approached him in this mood, it would definitely come to a brawl. His bear was up for a fight.
God. They weren’t teenagers barely reeling in their inner animals anymore, but his bear had grown unmanageable since Craig’s departure. He took a lesser known path, waited for his brother to arrive in a clearing, before pouncing on Mac. He slammed Mac against a tree and roared.
That would get the message across that Mac should leave him alone or Rick wouldn’t hesitate to use his claws and fangs. Mac snarled in response, batting him away with one huge claw. Then his brother had the audacity to bite his left paw.
Pissed off now, he went at Mac at full force, annoyed by the amusement in Mac’s yellow eyes. Mac’s gaze turned serious, probably realizing Rick hadn’t been kidding around. They tangled, a blur of claws and fangs.
Brawling was a normal part of a dominant shifter’s life. Fighting other dominants kept their inner animals sated. Rick simply had better control over his inner grizzly compared to his brothers—at least, Rick thought he did.
He let animal instinct take over. Mac met him for every blow and bite, until exhaustion left them both panting, bleeding messes on the forest ground. Mac shifted first, and he watched his brother warily, the bear in him not savage enough to attack their kin in human form.
“Enough,” Mac gritted out, still lying on his back. “If we keep at this, I’d no longer be pretty for Pat.”
Rick changed back to human, too, and snorted. “Your vanity knows no bounds.”
“Let’s not avoid the real reason why you’re out alone in the woods, rampaging like some crazy berserk bear,” Mac said unhelpfully.
Rick growled at the comment.
“It’s true. You’ve been moping around last week, and now, even your staff are scared to approach you. Connor said even the regulars at the bar tend to avoid talking to you.”
Guilt replaced annoyance. True, Rick’s temper had become somewhat worse, but the last thing he wanted was for his own employees and regulars to fear him. A dominant werebear had plenty of pride, but Rick saw reason, too.
“That bad?” he finally asked.
“Yeah. Look, why don’t we address what's really bothering you?”
“What reason is that?” Rick asked in a dangerous tone of voice.
Then again, Mac had never heeded caution.
Mac’s next words took him by surprise. “Look, Connor said he’s thinking of buying Danny a bus ticket to go see Craig.”
Rick groaned. “How come?”
“Because apparently, Craig’s been calling Danny every single day. Danny says Craig’s been miserable and lonely, and it’s not hard to figure out why.”
Seeing as Mac was here to help, he considered his brother’s words carefully. After their dad died, Rick had distanced himself from his two brothers a little, because one of them had to be the adult. They were all grown ass men now though. Maybe it was time he stopped tackling his problems alone.
“I’ve been tempted many times to bite him, give him my mate mark, but doing that also means stealing the life he’d struggled to build,” Rick said, finally telling his brother the truth.
Yes, he wanted to claim Craig from the start, but he didn’t want to be the bastard to demand Craig stay in the Red Mountains with him. Hell, Craig came here to convince Danny to go back. Meeting each other hadn’t been part of the plan.
“Have you asked Craig what he wants?” Mac asked.
“He’s undecided.”
Rick could still recall how he woke up that morning of Craig’s departure only to find out the human had beaten him to
the punch. Craig left a long-winded farewell note thanking him for the wonderful time. He didn’t even sense Craig had left the bed. Rick felt angry, dejected Craig left without a word, although it didn’t make sense. Didn’t he think of the same thing the night before, that he’d slip out before Craig woke?
“Craig didn’t know what he wanted then,” Mac corrected.
Rick frowned. “And what, he does now?”
“Maybe. There’s only one way to find one, right?” Mac gave him a wink. “You’ll have to explain to Pat why you raked me bloody.”
He snorted. “You’re already healing.”
Mac childishly stuck out a tongue. “Go pay your human a visit soon, because we’re all sick of your brooding face.”
Rick growled at his brother, who seemed like he was asking for a damn fight. Before he could put his hands around Mac’s throat or punch his smirking face, Mac changed back to bear form and sprinted back to the cabins.
Feeling the chill of the night wind on his skin, Rick shifted to animal form again. He didn’t head back immediately, but at the very least, his bear felt more centered, a lot calmer than before. As much as he hated to admit it, talking shit out with Mac helped. Rick continued his usual route around the forest, thoughts preoccupied by the human he let go.
Fuck, but he’d been a damn fool. He only had one life, didn’t he? Rick didn’t want to live the rest of it regretting not going after the only man he wanted. Mac was right. He needed to talk to Craig face-to-face, admit to Craig that all time they’d been together, he’d been holding his bear back from owning Craig in every sense of the word.
His bear liked the thought of seeing their mate again. Maybe this time, Rick wouldn’t stop the bear from claiming what rightfully belonged to them.
Chapter Twelve
“Alright, that’s it for the day. Thanks for coming, everyone,” said Mr. Ito, the director of the photoshoot. Mr. Ito nodded to Craig. “Good work, Craig.”
“I hope we’ll be able to work together again,” Craig answered, getting off the stool he’d been sitting on for what felt like hours.
His clothes felt hot, clinging to his skin. Craig wanted nothing better than to change out of them and head home. He’d put on his favorite jogging pants and the large ratty shirt he stole from Rick without telling the werebear.
Craig bade the other people he worked with on the photoshoot good night and headed to his dressing room. He quickly changed back into his own clothes, grabbed his bag, and went outside the warehouse. Checking the time on his wristwatch, he winced. Craig didn’t notice it was that late already.
He phoned a cab, relieved when it arrived fifteen minutes later. Once inside, Craig slumped against the seat. He felt all wrung up. No surprise, since after parting with Rick, he threw himself fully into his work. That certainly made Silvia happy, but what about him?
To tell the truth, Craig felt more miserable than before he drove to the Red Mountains to convince Danny to come back with him. Having experienced what it felt like being with an amazing, possessive, and incredibly tender man who understood him, who he felt completely comfortable with, his old life felt miserable and stark by comparison.
“That would be thirty-two dollars and fifty cents,” the cabbie said.
He blinked, realizing he’d arrived in front of his apartment building. Craig took out his wallet, paid the driver, and got out. He looked around the lavish neighborhood. He moved to this address a year ago, excited he finally managed to score an enviable location. A couple of celebrities and successful models lived in the area. It had been the place to be, or so he thought.
For some reason, he thought about Rick’s rustic home. Some paint peeled on the outside of the house and the roof looked like it needed work, but inside, no one could deny how homey it felt. He missed those mornings with Rick, as they argued about the daily news, politics, movies, and anything under the sun.
They sure debated about a few things, but that was the thing. He welcomed the sound of Rick’s voice, liked how they challenged each other. In a span of a few days, he found his soul mate, but unlike his best friend he’d been so foolish enough to let Rick go.
Shit, but Rick must have been damn mad to find him gone that morning. All Craig left behind was a long-ass letter. Who did shit like that anymore? Too bad Craig had been too chicken to say those farewell words to the werbear face-to-face.
I had a wonderful time, the best. Being with you felt liberating.
He blushed, thinking about all the other embarrassing things he said.
Craig entered the building, unsurprised to be greeted by the late night shift guard. He entered the elevator and got off his floor. No noise. No nothing. He always came home at a time where the rest of the world seemed dead. No kids laughing or couples arguing next door. Then again, each unit had been built spaced widely apart. Thick walls had been one of the primary reasons why these units had been so expensive. Craig paid for privacy, but he started to regret that.
Entering his lonely apartment, he flicked opened the lights, depressed by the huge and empty space. A mewl came from somewhere, shattering the silence. Relieved, he saw Munchie appear from her favorite spot by his bookshelf.
Munchie belonged to another model friend of his, who begged him to take care of the British Short Munchkin until his honeymoon was over. Since Craig wanted to try out having a pet to keep the loneliness at bay, he jumped at the chance.
“I’m sorry, I promised to come home earlier,” he told Munchie.
She hissed at him, waving her tail back and forth, but when he went to the kitchen, he noticed her following him. Typical Munchie. He only had her for three days, and liked having her around. After giving her water and opening a can of cat food, she let him pet her ears.
“Good kitty,” he told her softly.
Munchie’s presence and his daily calls to Danny had only been the two things keeping his sanity. He knew he shouldn’t be bothering Danny much though, but he missed his best friend. The last time he called, Danny had been having breakfast with Pat. Before he left, he’d grudgingly accepted Pat. Pat could be a potential friend, too.
He envisioned the three of them in Danny’s kitchen, watching their men argue outside the house about some thing or another. Then he dispelled the thought. Thinking about his regrets, about Rick, wouldn’t do him any good.
Danny took a cold shower and slid in bed. Moments later, he felt a small weight join him. Probably Munchie. He sort of hoped Bert and his partner Clive would suddenly decide to give her up. Well, he’d get his own cat. Craig fell asleep to the fantasy of Rick and him, owning a cat. Faint smile on his lips, he let himself get lost in the vision of a future that would never happen.
* * * *
Craig woke to sound of man’s curse, followed by a growl. He jolted away, only to hear Munchie hissing and meowing outside. Dread filled the pit of his belly. His worst nightmare had come to life and someone broke into his home.
Thoughts of the terrified twelve-year-old boy he’d been plagued his mind. Craig slid off the bed, grabbed the baseball bat he kept under the bed for no reason other than personal safety. He didn’t play baseball, didn’t do much sports, but the second-hand bat had been one of the first things he bought when he’d started out as a model. It had been a time when he could barely pay for a decent apartment.
Clutching the bat, he edged toward the door only to see an astonishing sight. He dropped the bat. He was definitely in some kind of dream, because Rick stood in his living room, holding Munchie at a distance.
The loyal cat kept hissing and pawing at him.
They locked gazes.
Rick scowled. “You never told me you had a monster cat.”
His mouth felt dry. Seconds passed. Okay. Rick still stood there, holding Munchie far from him as possible.
“Munchie’s not mine. I’m cat-sitting her for a friend. Are you real?” he found himself whispering. “Wait, how did you get in?”
“You keep a spare key under your welcome mat. Whic
h reminds me, we’re going to have a talk about not hiding obvious things in plain sight,” Rick grumbled.
“Okay, you definitely sound like a certain grumpy bear I know,” he muttered.
“I’m real.”
Not trusting the vision yet, he padded up to Rick and ran his hand down Munchie’s spine.
“It’s okay, Munchie. He’s a friend.” He gathered the cat in his arms. She calmed down, but still continued glaring at Rick suspiciously.
“Just a friend?” Rick asked, crossing his arms. The motion made all the muscles in Rick’s massive arms bulge. He sucked in a breath. The werebear wore a plain green shirt, faded jeans, and dusty boots, and hell, Rick looked good.
“More than a friend,” he found himself answering, because he didn’t want to see Rick disappear on him again. Well, he did the running part two weeks ago.
Rick blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I came here to talk. Danny mentioned you were miserable.”
“Wait,” he began, head still reeling from Rick’s presence in the house. “I need coffee for this.”
He felt Rick following him to the kitchen. Munchie began pawing at him, so he set her down.
“Nice place,” Rick remarked, intense green-flecked gold eyes on him.
He started the coffee machine. While waiting, he prepared Munchie’s breakfast. Then he made a cup of black coffee for Rick, as Rick usually liked, and a frothy cappuccino for himself. Craig took several sips, regarding the werebear in his kitchen.
Part of him still couldn’t believe Rick drove all the way here. Rick was a workaholic, just like him, and was practically married to his bar. He made an exception for me, Craig thought, heart racing.
“Um, you mentioned Danny was worried about me?”
Rick sipped his coffee. “Danny planned to come over here, but I decided I’d do it.”
“Because you were worried about me, too?” he asked hopefully.
Why was his heart beating so fast?
