Alpha Bears And Brides (Red Lodge Bears) The Complete Collection

by Vivian Wood

  Finn appreciated Charlotte’s doting consideration more than he could, or would, ever put into words. He also appreciated the mating bond between Charlotte and Noah, and would never consider crossing any lines with either of them now that they were truly mated. Once, Finn had thought he might pursue Charlotte… but that time had passed, and in all honesty he was glad for it. Charlotte made Noah happy, and that in itself was an incredible feat.

  “Finn, are you even listening?” Cameron yelled, nudging his elbow into Finn’s ribs.

  Finn shook off his thoughts and turned his attention back to the group.

  “What’s up?” he asked, giving everyone a lopsided grin.

  “Alex was asking about your farm,” Cam said.

  “Cam said you’re growing stuff to make beer?” Alex said. Finn eyed the stunning redhead, favoring her with a full smile. He leaned in, raising his voice to be heard over the pulsing rock music.

  “Heirloom hops. We have so many breweries in Oregon and Washington, and a lot of the microbreweries want specific types of hops for their recipes. There aren’t a lot of farms that will grow varietals based on customer demand, so it’s a good business to be in right now.”

  “So you just up and quit your teaching job and moved here?” Alex asked, seeming interested.

  “He bought a big tract of land, complete with a rambling farmhouse,” Charlotte informed Alex. “I’m not sure how the house hasn’t fallen down around him, but Finn seems pretty content.”

  Alex nodded, looking thoughtful.

  “That’s a huge life change,” she said. Her tone implied that she was curious about why Finn had made such a radical decision, but she was too polite to say so.

  “Finn’s biggest challenge now is going to be actually finding a Berserker girl to date. There’s not a lot of options out here,” Noah said. Finn shot him a quelling look, but it was too late. Alex perked up and jumped on that bit of information.

  “Portland is a pretty big city. Aren’t there a lot of werebears out here?” she asked.

  “Not really,” Finn said with a shrug. “A lot of them are like me, belonging to clans from other areas. California and Washington, mainly. And then there’s the Eugene clan…”

  “Fucking nuts, all of them,” Cameron chimed in. “Every time I’ve dealt with them, it’s been a struggle to get through the most basic things. They’re super old-school, with a serious shortage of females. And they’re in debt up to their eyeballs, if their relationship with the Beran clan is any indication.”

  “I haven’t really dealt with them much. Too busy getting the farm off the ground,” Finn said, noncommittal.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but aren’t you kind of… running out of time? On the mate thing, I mean? How long do you have left before the Alphas’ decree takes effect?” Alex asked. Finn shot her a narrowed glance. She wasn’t just intelligent, she was perceptive. And blunt, it seemed.

  “I’ve got five months,” he grunted. “In any event, I think we should be talking about you two. You’re the brand new couple. Or should I say trio?”

  Alex blushed and grinned.

  “I guess I deserve that,” she said, raising her glass of soda water with lime in a mock salute.

  “We are indeed parents to be,” Cam said. The look that passed between Alex and Cam was equal parts sultry and sweet, so intense that it almost made Finn uncomfortable. Would he ever find a mate that would look at him that way?

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, making him jump. He looked up to find Wyatt peering down at him, a shit-eating grin on his face. Apparently the fifth of Finn’s visitors had deigned to make an appearance.

  “There’s my favorite brother,” Wyatt drawled, intentionally ignoring everyone else at the table.

  “Funny, I was definitely not thinking the same about you,” Finn said, rolling his eyes. Wyatt was all drama, smoke and mirrors and bullshit. A compliment from him was good cause to be wary. “Let’s get you a chair.”

  Finn rose to grab a chair from a neighboring table, but Cameron stopped him.

  “No need. We’re heading out,” Cameron said. The stony glance Cam shot at Wyatt was unmistakable, and Alex’s expression bordered on downright hateful. With reason, of course; Cameron had filled Finn in on all the trouble Wyatt had caused for them, almost breaking up their mateship before it had truly begun.

  “Aw, shit. You guys are still mad about that? It’s water under the bridge,” Wyatt said, collapsing into Alex’s chair even as he spoke. His flippant attitude set Finn’s teeth on edge, and he didn’t even have a dog in the fight.

  “The newest member of the Beran clan is hungry,” Alex said, rubbing her stomach. She was starting to show a little, Finn now noticed. Alex glanced at Cameron, taking in his irate posture, and grabbed his arm. “Good night, everyone.”

  As soon as their backs were turned, Charlotte and Noah followed suit. Wyatt gave Noah some grief about it, but Finn read the amorous look on Charlotte’s face and begrudged his twin exactly nothing. If Charlotte, or any woman really, was looking at Finn like that, with that potent mix of love and lust, he’d already be out the door. Possibly with the girl slung over his shoulder, caveman style.

  The thought made him smile. Finn knew he was one of the more mild-mannered Beran men, but that stopped at the bedroom door. Not that any of his brothers needed to know that, of course. When he’d spent the night with Noah and Charlotte, Finn had purposely taken a back seat, innately sensing his twin’s need to control the situation.

  “Hey, fuckface. How bout you quit daydreaming and drink this whiskey?” Wyatt said, sliding across the wooden table.

  “How bout you quit being such a jerk off? It’s just you and me now, no ladies to impress. Or offend, in your case,” Finn retorted.

  Wyatt gave Finn a smirk, but he didn’t argue the point. Whatever his point was. It was always hard to tell with Wyatt.

  “What should we toast to?” Wyatt asked, changing the topic.

  “Uhhhh. Being the last two single Beran men?” Finn asked wryly.

  “Ah! More appropriate than you could possibly know,” Wyatt said, raising his shot glass and tapping it against Finn’s. They both shot the whiskey in a swift movement, slamming the glasses to the table. Finn winced at the alcohol’s fiery glide down his throat.

  “Jesus. What’d you do, get the cheapest stuff they had at the bar?” Finn accused his brother. Wyatt just shrugged.

  “I told the cute lady bartender to give me whatever she thought was appropriate. Now that I think about it, I think I might have got her number a last time I was in town. Obviously, I never called her.”

  “Don’t ruin this bar for me, Wy. This is the only place I’ve found so far that I like,” Finn said.

  “I was actually thinking I might cozy up to her again. I’m going to be here for a week this time, at least,” Wyatt said. Finn looked over at him, surprised. Wyatt’s expression gave nothing away, but Finn was instantly suspicious.

  “Why is that? I hope you’re not planning on staying with me this time, because you’ve already pissed off two of my employees. I think Brian is going to thrash you the next time he sees you.”

  “He should keep better track of his own girlfriend,” Wyatt said, unrepentant.

  “Ex-girlfriend, now. Thanks to you, I’m pretty sure.”

  “Well, there you go,” Wyatt said, banging his hand on the table. “I did him a favor. She was a cheater. And not that good in bed, if I remember correctly.”

  Finn just sighed. There was no use scolding or nagging Wyatt, the man never listened to a word of it.

  “It’s only been a few weeks since your last visit. Why are you here again so soon?” Finn asked.

  “Business. Speaking of which, I’m going to need a favor from you. I’m going to need to… borrow you. Tomorrow morning.”

  “How do you know that I’m not busy tomorrow?” Finn asked, a little offended by his brother’s assumption.

  “All you do is work. You’ve got no girl a
nd no hobbies. What could you possibly be doing tomorrow? Aside from pining after Charlotte, I mean.”

  Finn’s hands bunched into fists.

  “I’m not pining after anyone.”

  “You are one of the most rule-abiding people I know,” Wyatt said, his tone just short of disgust. “And yet, you’ve made no move to find yourself a mate. You’ve buried your head in the sand over at your farm instead, and where has it gotten you?”

  Finn barked a laugh.

  “You of all people… How can you possibly be giving me shit about not finding a mate quickly enough? From Ma, I expect it. From you… I don’t think you’re going to meet the deadline, period. Kiss your clan goodbye,” Finn said, flapping a hand in his brother’s face.

  Quick as a lightning flash, Wyatt reached out and grabbed Finn’s hand, bringing it down on the table with a loud thud.

  “Don’t worry about what I’m doing. We are talking about you. Mostly about how your ass is going to get up tomorrow morning and drive out to Eugene with me.”

  Finn opened his mouth to ask another question, but Wyatt stood and made for the bar. When he returned with six more shot glasses, Finn’s suspicions grew by an order of magnitude.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Finn said, staring Wyatt down.

  “Shots first. Then I’ll tell you what I need.”

  Wyatt brooked no arguments. They slammed all the shots, back to back, making Finn’s head swim. Finn was no lightweight, six and a half feet of well-maintained muscle, but four shots of shitty whiskey would set anyone on their ass. In a matter of minutes, he was drunkenly staring down at his hands as Wyatt gave up the details.

  “So basically the Eugene Alpha has me by the balls,” Wyatt admitted, his words slurring a little. “He did the favor I asked, made this connection I desperately needed, and now he expects me to come through on my end. And… you know I can’t do that, Finn. You know as much as anyone, I just can’t.”

  “Uh huh,” Finn said, jerking his gaze back up to his brother’s. “Yeah. I mean, yeah, you can’t.”

  Finn had zero idea what he was agreeing to or what he supposedly knew, but the whiskey washed away his concerns. Apparently he’d said the right thing, though, because Wyatt’s relief was clear.

  “This mate stuff… I just…” Wyatt shook his head. “It’s not possible.”

  “Because of that girl? What was her name, Abby?” Finn asked, squinting as he tried to recall the details.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Wyatt said, going stiff.

  “Man, it’s been like… ten years, at least. You really have to learn to let stuff go,” Finn said, leaning back in his chair. Relaxing a little felt so good. A little too good, even. Shit, he was drunk. He’d need a cab, and soon.

  “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fine, fine,” Finn said. They were both silent for a minute, absorbed in their own thoughts.

  “We should get out of here,” Wyatt said at last. “It’s already midnight, and I need to pick you up at nine, sharp.”

  Finn wrinkled his nose.

  “This sounds like the worst favor of all time.”

  “Just say you’ll be ready. Wear your best suit, man.”

  “Suit, smoot,” Finn grumbled.

  “Ooookay. Let’s get you in a cab, buddy,” Wyatt said, guiding Finn up out of his seat and toward the exit.

  Judging only by his current level of intoxication, it occurred to Finn that the next day might be pretty damned terrible. Sighing at his own foolishness, Finn let his older brother guide him into the dark Portland night.

  87

  Two

  Nora Craig stood on a creaky wooden step stool, trying to be perfectly still. That required that she ignore all the bustle going on around her. The women kneeling at her feet to finish the hem on her dress. Nora’s father’s new mate, spraying the back of Nora’s neatly pinned-back hair with hair spray, giving a murmur of satisfaction before fleeing the room. Most of all, the lumbering, suit-wearing stooge lounging in a chair by the doorway, here to make sure that Nora didn’t accidentally ‘wander off’. Her father’s words, of course.

  So Nora stared out the second-story window instead, looking at how the wide gravel driveway twisted and narrowed as it trailed off into the distance. In her mind, she was calculating how long it would take her to run that distance. If she ran flat-out… If she got enough of a head start… If she ripped off the dress, left it in pieces on the floor…

  Nora smoothed her hands over the bodice of the dress, her fingertips tracing the delicate seed pearls that had long ago been painstakingly sewn into the ivory satin. The dress had been her mother’s, and her grandmother’s before that. It was in good condition, if a bit aged. More recently, it had been loaned to Nora’s aunt, two of her cousins, and a few other girls in the clan.

  The dress had history. The more recent the history, the darker the deeds. It was a remnant from times past, times when the family had good sense and a lot more money. Back when her mother’s father had been Alpha, run things the right way.

  There was a darker patch on the inner left wrist of one long sleeve, a spot where bright red blood had spread into the creamy fabric. Nora’s cousin Tarah had worn this dress last, and Tarah hadn’t been nearly so meek as Nora. Terah’s futile struggle was just a memory now, and Nora was wearing the only remaining proof, faint though it was.

  Nora sucked in a breath, but held back the moan she wanted to release. There was no time for thinking about the past today. She had to keep herself together, be presentable. It was the last shred of dignity that she had right now.

  “You can’t be taking those big breaths, Miss Nora,” Aggie tsked. “You’re curvier than your cousins, and you wouldn’t want to rip the dress.”

  Nora looked down at Aggie, an aging aunt from her mother’s side. Nora studied her, picking out the features that reminded her of her mother, the woman that Nora looked so much like.

  Aggie’s steely gray hair, tucked up in a severe bun, still echoed the thick, dark tresses she once had. Nora’s own was not nearly so long, cropped at her jaw in a blunt bob. The color was the same though, dark as a raven’s wing. Aggie’s brown eyes were just like Nora’s mother’s. Nora loved how expressive they were, how warm and comforting that chocolaty gaze could be. Nora’s own lavender eyes were pretty, but there would never be the same kindness and compassion there, things Aggie and Nora’s mother had in spades.

  Nora shifted in place and immediately cursed when Aggie’s companion stuck Nora in the ankle with a dressmaker’s pin.

  “I told you not to move!” Gretchen shrieked, tugging at the hem. “Obstinate girl!”

  I’m twenty-five, hardly a girl, Nora wanted to say, but she held her tongue. Gretchen wasn’t Nora’s favorite person, and Nora suspected that Gretchen reported Nora’s every action back to Nora’s father, but it wasn’t Gretchen’s fault that Nora was standing on this stool, awaiting an uncertain fate. Gretchen was as much under Lars Craig’s control as Nora was. As the Alpha of the Craig pack, Nora’s father held all the cards and called all the shots.

  “You could be a little nicer to her,” Aggie sniped at Gretchen. “Considering.”

  “At least she’s escaping, in a way,” Gretchen snapped. “Better than the two of us get, Aggie. In any event, I’m done.”

  “Me too,” Aggie agreed.

  They both stepped back to let the hem hang free, Aggie reaching out and twitching the fabric to lay just so.

  “Beautiful,” Aggie said, looking up at Nora with a bittersweet expression.

  Before Nora had a chance to respond, something caught her eye from the window. In the distance, a thick cloud of dust rose in the air.

  “Visitors,” Nora said mournfully.

  Gretchen moved to look out the window, but Aggie just offered Nora a hand, helping her down off the stool.

  “Get your heels on so the dress doesn’t drag on the ground,” Aggie ordered.

  Nora slipped on her black he
els, relishing the couple of inches they added to her five-foot frame. She’d need them if she was going to go toe-to-toe with Cameron Beran in a matter of minutes. Her stomach gurgled, reminding her that she’d not eaten today. Her father had commanded that Gretchen control Nora’s diet for the last two weeks, which meant that Nora hardly ate anything. Skinny, austere Gretchen had always disapproved of Nora’s wild curves, and she’d delighted in a chance to try to tame them.

  Catching her reflection in the mirror, Nora chuckled. There was no taming anything about her body. She was still as curvy as an hourglass, all boobs and hips and butt. No matter what she ate, how she dieted, how much she exercised, her body never changed. Her mother had been the same, once. Nora’s doppleganger resemblance to her mother was, Nora speculated, half the reason her father was so disdainful of his only daughter.

  Nora was the walking memory of someone that Lars Craig was desperate to forget.

  “Look here,” Gretchen said, waving Nora over to the window. Nora obeyed, curious. A black luxury sedan pulled up outside, one she recognized all too well.

  “He’s so handsome,” Aggie said, eyeing the man who stepped from the car.

  Wyatt Beran was indeed handsome, Nora couldn’t deny that. Every bit as handsome as he was cocky, rude, and cold.

  The passenger door opened, and another dark-haired man emerged. Nora bit her lip, narrowing her gaze. Were they twins? No, she decided. On second glance, the other man might be a little younger, a little more stylish. Their hair and eye colors were identical, though.

  So, brothers. Nora recalled that the Beran Alpha had a few sons, not just Wyatt. She’d never met any of them, but it looked very much as if she was about to do so. She stared at him for another long beat, wondering if he was as heartless and sneering as his brother. He looked around, his face set in a hard, impatient expression, and Nora guessed that he was as bad as Wyatt, or worse.