Petting Them: An Anthology of Claw-ver Tails

by Tate James

  Hmmph. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.

  Feeling ornery, I leaned a little closer and grazed his upper lip with the tip of my tongue, the prick of his beard enticingly rough, then nipped his lower lip before I straightened. I smirked smugly at the fire that immediately ignited in his gaze and cocked a brow at him. “I think you just like to see me riled,” I challenged, my breasts rising and falling with my rapid breaths.

  “Oh I do, Butterfly. I most definitely do,” he rasped lowly.

  A thud and a muttered curse from Denver within the house broke the spell between us. Tatum turned to frown at the open front door, as if it were at fault for interrupting our moment. I huffed a laugh, drawing his attention back to me. He searched my face, then asked quietly, “Feel better?”

  I blinked at him, before slowly shaking my head, a wry grin spreading across my face. He’d done that on purpose to distract me from worrying about Remy. “Yes, you big jerk,” I admitted softly. “I do feel better. Thank you.” He hummed and returned my smile, victory and lingering heat shining in his eyes.

  “You’re welcome. But don’t think this means I’m giving up on your selling this place. Sit with me?” he coaxed, tipping his chin at the rockers behind me.

  I sighed but nodded, my worry for Remy coming back now that Tatum wasn’t distracting me with his maddeningly sexy provocation. I led the way and dropped down in the chair, my gaze immediately going back to the tree line.

  It wasn’t long before the roar of a motorcycle could be heard in the distance. I saw the cloud of dust before I saw him come over the hill on the long dirt road leading to my father’s house. Krew.

  I stood and walked to the edge of the porch as he parked and dismounted. I could see the concern on his face as he climbed the stairs, stopping on the one below me so we were closer to the same height. “Are you all right?" he asked softly.

  Krew cupped my cheeks and lightly brushed his thumb over my lips before tucking a strand of blonde hair behind my ear. He stared into my eyes, standing so close I could smell him and feel the heat coming off his big body. This close to Krew, a part of me felt like I was home, while the other part wanted to break away. Being back here was like being on an emotional rollercoaster, but now wasn’t the time to analyze those emotions. "What happened, Mer?" he asked.

  “We were packing and loading up boxes. One of them had this jacket. When I pulled it out of the box, Remy freaked out and ran away.” I walked over to the jacket in question and held it up between my thumb and index finger.

  There was a flash of recognition in Krew’s eyes as he looked at it, but it was gone in a second, and his expression settled into what seemed like a practiced kind of blankness. "We should start scouting the woods,” Tatum announced from right behind me, having gotten up without me hearing. “It'll be dark within the next three hours. He can’t be out there at night, not with the bobcat problem we’ve had recently.”

  My heart skipped a beat at that news, and my anxiety instantly doubled. I whipped around to gape up at Tatum. Why the hell hadn’t he thought to mention that earlier? Thankfully, Denver walked out of the house carrying lanterns and a backpack just then, before I could do anything impulsive. Like take off into the damn woods by myself, yelling Remy’s name.

  One by one, our ever-prepared and fearless leader handed us water bottles and flashlights before spraying us down with bug spray. Krew and Tatum endured Denver’s attention with only a few grumbles that they could spray themselves, which Denver cheerfully ignored. Within the ten minutes it had taken Tatum and Krew to arrive, Denver managed to get us a compass, map, and anything else we could possibly need for our search party.

  "Let's go find him," Denver said, leading the way toward the woods.

  9

  Memories of my childhood, of all the adventures I’d had with the guys, rushed through my mind as the four of us walked through the woods behind my dad's house. Our first stop was Tatum's place. He seemed to think that Remy would run to him. I felt a spurt of jealousy that I quickly squashed. I didn’t even know if I wanted to keep the dog, so there was no reason to be jealous if he ran away from me and straight to Tatum.

  Despite my initial reaction, I was disappointed to find that Remy hadn't wandered there. We circled the house and checked the land, all of us calling his name, but he was nowhere to be seen. Back in the woods, Krew walked beside me, brushing his hand against mine. As the sun continued to dip in the sky, I became more and more nervous. Eventually, I gave in to my need for comfort. Threading my fingers through his, we yelled for Remy and searched deeper in the woods.

  As we walked, Tatum was mostly silent. He was paying close attention to the forest around us, bending over to inspect the animal tracks in the mud or pausing to move fallen tree limbs from the walking path. He was a natural and thrived within the serenity of the woods. I understood why he was attached to this land. We all were. All of our history was wrapped up in it.

  "Is there anywhere my dad took him regularly? Anywhere he knows?" I asked suddenly, directing my question at Denver ahead of us.

  "I have someone at the precinct keeping an eye out, but I doubt he went that way," Denver answered over his shoulder. I could hear the worry in his voice. Anxious tension had been tightening his shoulders and quickening his pace the farther we went without any sign of the dog. A part of me wondered if it was because he felt indebted to Remy. There was a special bond between them, forged the night my dad died.

  Denver already blamed himself for dad’s death. I knew losing Remy would only add to the guilt he felt, even if that guilt was undeserved and unwarranted.

  As we walked, following the path closer to town, the trail ahead of us began to gradually look more familiar. Even through the shadows starting to cloak the forest, I knew immediately where we were. I bit my lip, unsure if I should say it out loud. Would they remember that this was one of our favorite spots? Or was I the only one finding myself stuck in the past? The creek closer to my dad’s house was special because it was where we met and where we said goodbye, but this was where we hid our secrets. This was ours, a place to meet away from all our parents, a spot just for us.

  Krew squeezed my hand and directed his flashlight towards the right, where I knew the rope swing Tatum had put up would be. He’d installed it one day as a surprise for me. Krew gave me a tender smile before changing direction, pulling me along with his hand in mine.

  I gasped as we broke through the tree line, both of us coming to a stop to take in the beauty. The muted colors of the setting sun illuminated the creek and the thick forest around it. Everything was painted in deep reds and shrouded in the darkness of growing shadows, giving the place a kind of quiet mystery. The sounds of the creek felt like music, and the crickets played the soundtrack of my childhood. This, more than even my father’s house, felt like home.

  “This place hasn't changed a bit," I whispered.

  Tatum came through the foliage behind us and stopped at my side. Looking up at him, I could barely make out his expression, but what I could see looked akin to grief.

  "I'm surprised you remember," he countered. "If you sell your father's land, they plan on turning this into a mall. They'll tear down all the trees, and this won't be here anymore."

  I looked around, wishing I could see everything in the light of day. I wondered if the tree where Krew carved our names in the bark still stood. I knew that three feet beneath the swing, there was a box full of our prized possessions. Denver read in a magazine about time capsules and demanded we do one too. If I remembered correctly, I put a picture of the four of us and my favorite knit blanket in it. I can still hear Denver's youthful voice in my mind as he explained that we couldn't open the box until one of us got married. He was convinced that marriage was the hallmark of being an adult. “I just remembered the time capsule. I wonder which of you will get married first so we can open it," I murmured.

  I winced as soon as the words left my mouth and rubbed my hand over my chest as an inexplicable pain s
liced through me. I couldn’t imagine the three of them with anyone but me. I selfishly hoped that time capsule stayed in the ground forever. Maybe it was foolish, focusing on our past when we were still searching for Remy, but I welcomed the distraction, even if only for a minute.

  Instead of answering, Tatum scowled and grumbled, “I’m going to check the tracks by the creek. Remy likes to play in the water sometimes.”

  Without another word, he marched off, disappearing around the line of trees nearer to the water. I didn’t know if it was my comment or something else that had pissed him off, but I also recognized that his anger was a facade. Glancing behind me at Denver then up to Krew at my side, I squeezed Krew’s hand reassuringly before going after my broody mountain man.

  I spotted him a little ways down the creek. He was standing by the bank, tossing rocks into the rushing water. Coming to a halt a couple feet away, I tried to read what I could see of his profile, but he was in shadow, and his features were hidden from me.

  I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. I tried to think of something to say, something light or reassuring, but eventually gave up and whispered, “I know this land is important to you. I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “We grew up here, Butterfly. I’ve tossed you in this muddy creek more times than I can count. I used to fish at the pond a mile east with your dad, and my favorite cat is buried just a couple miles north.”

  He tossed another rock in the water, and I listened to the sounds as it sank into the shallow creek. “But as much as I love it, this land isn’t nearly as important to me as you are,” he confessed as he cut his eyes to me, holding me with his stare.

  "Dammit, Tatum," I breathed, my heart swelling in my chest even as I glared at him. I could hear Krew and Denver steadily approaching, but I didn’t let that stop me. I took a step closer to Tatum, keeping my gaze narrowed and challenging. “You know, I came back,” I started, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “You promised me a kiss, and instead I got a wild mountain man ripping the For Sale sign out of my yard.”

  He didn’t move for a long minute, seemingly frozen with his hand still raised to throw another rock. I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I waited for him to do something, say something. When one second ticked into another, I wrapped my arms around myself and looked down at the ground, the sting of rejection making my cheeks burn. I was apparently the only one that still thought of that almost kiss and his promise.

  I heard Denver’s and Krew’s steps come to a stop at my words before they retreated. I was about to spin on my heel to follow them, wanting to get away from the tense silence hanging between Tatum and I, when he finally spoke. “You're right," he agreed.

  He turned to me, his expression predatory in the gloom, and he stalked closer until we were almost chest to chest. He placed his hands on my cheeks, cupping my face as he stared into my eyes. The full moon above illuminated his features, and my gaze zeroed in on his mouth.

  "I do owe you a kiss," he whispered before bending down and pressing his lips to mine with such tenderness that I forgot how to breathe. I moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around his back and pulling our bodies as close together as possible. He licked my bottom lip, as if asking permission taste me.

  I felt solid in his arms, and my worries, doubts, and the distance between us completely evaporated.

  We sighed in unison when I opened for him, hope tumbling from my lips onto his. His beard brushed against my skin, the roughness a perfect counterpart to the aching gentleness of our kiss.

  Behind us, someone coughed, making me jump and pull away. I stared wide-eyed up at Tatum, panting through lips that were wet and tingling. All at once, I started to doubt myself. Krew and Denver were just feet away, and here I was kissing Tatum.

  I tried to take a step back, but Tatum wrapped his arms around me, holding me in place. "You're not gonna run away now, are you?" he taunted, his voice teasing but his eyes serious as he appraised me.

  Crossing my arms over my chest between our bodies, I looked up at the exasperating man, who was now smiling widely at me. Even in the dark, I could sense that he was all too pleased at making me a flustered puddle of need. I didn’t have any plans to tell him, but his smug look was well-deserved. That kiss was everything I'd ever hoped it would be. When I first moved to Nashville, I spent many nights wondering what it would've been like to kiss Tatum. Now I knew.

  "Oh whatever," I huffed, biting back my smile while pulling out of his grip once more. "I'm not going anywhere until we find Remy."

  I turned around, pausing when I saw Denver’s big smile and Krew’s knowing smirk. I felt flustered and uncertain. Shouldn't they be mad? Shouldn't this feel wrong? Denver was testing the weight of the old rope swing with his grip. He pulled down on the worn rope before looking at me. "Want to try it out, for old time’s sake?"

  I caught the hidden meaning in his question and squinted at him warily, sure he was just messing with me, which only made his smile grow. "So we're not gonna talk about what just happened?" I asked hesitantly. Maybe to Tatum that kiss meant nothing, maybe Denver and Krew were playing it off, but to me, it was everything.

  "Are we supposed to talk about it?" Krew asked while making his way over to the rope swing, taking it from Denver. "The way I see it," he began before jumping up and wrapping his legs around the rope, "the man owed you a kiss. You were collecting on a debt, my Mer."

  With that, Krew swung forward over the rushing creek. I let out a laugh at his playfulness, all while praying the worn tree branches didn't snap. He let out a short whoop before jumping off, landing on the bank, and strolling towards me. His lighthearted expression turned serious as he got closer, coming to a stop with only inches between us. “I know I said you should leave," he whispered low enough so only I could hear, "but I have to admit, it's pretty damn interesting having you around again."

  Krew locked his eyes on my lips, and I held my breath, hoping he would close the distance between us. Like him, I still felt conflicted about our conversation last night. But even so, I couldn't help but want to feel his lips on mine once more.

  I darted a look over his shoulder at Tatum, who gave me a challenging stare, as if daring me to kiss Krew right there in front of him. Accepting the unspoken dare, I lifted up on my toes to place what I intended to be a chaste kiss on Krew’s lips. But Krew had other plans. He cupped my cheeks to hold me firmly in place as he showed me just how much he enjoyed having me here. There was an intensity in his kiss that left me feeling limp in his hands.

  “My Mer,” he breathed against my lips before kissing me once more, lightly sucking my lower lip. “I’ll never forget the first time we kissed. But this one is a lot more fun,” he said before brushing his fingertips along my neck and lower. He feathered his fingers over me, trailing the curves of my breasts then down my side. He lingered on every curve until he was gripping my ass, palming me gently in his big hand and bumping my pelvis into his.

  I moaned in his mouth, lost in his touch, until I felt someone tapping me on the shoulder. Krew chuckled. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?” he muttered before pulling away.

  Feeling confused but more aroused than I’d ever felt, I spun around to face my last guy. Denver Price was standing there with hungry eyes. His chest was heaving, as if he wanted me so much, his own body couldn’t contain it. “Snaps,” he groaned. “Get over here.”

  Knotting my fists in his shirt, I yanked him towards me, crashing my lips to his. Tatum’s and Krew’s kisses brought my lust to a crescendo. They made me feel delicate and needy, but with Denver, I felt bold. I forced each tremble, each nerve-shattering drop of need out of me and into him, only to have him take and feed it back into me.

  Denver growled into my mouth as I pressed my body to his, moving like a wave against his hard frame. He wrapped his arms around me, feverishly sliding his hands over me as we kissed, as if trying to touch every last inch of me. This wasn’t like our clumsy first kiss. This was the kiss of a man that kn
ew what he wanted—and he wanted me.

  A howl in the distance broke us apart. I didn’t want to stop, but something about that noise…“Remy?” I asked, my voice husky as I licked my lips and blinked a few times.

  Denver looked towards the east and let out a slow sigh, as if realizing where the howls were coming from. "Shit. I know exactly where Remy is,” Denver said sadly.

  “Where?” Tatum asked.

  “The cemetery.”

  10

  It hadn’t occurred to me to visit my dad’s grave when I first got here. Maybe it was because it didn’t feel real yet. He’d stopped being involved in my life years ago, hadn’t initiated contact since sending me away, so I felt disconnected from my grief. In my mind, he was off somewhere living his life without me.

  But being at the local cemetery, seeing the tangible proof of his death, had me shaking.

  As Denver had predicted, Remy was there, lying down at my father’s gravestone. My heart broke for him. Sucking in a deep breath, I walked to the grieving dog. I bent to scratch him behind the ears before lowering myself to sit next to him.

  “Hey, boy,” I cooed as he whined. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Daddy’s grave, so I focused on Remy instead, petting him in long soothing strokes and watching the way his dark gaze never left the tombstone. It was easier to take in his love for my dad than it was to think about my own. Tatum, Krew, and Denver stood in a half circle around us. “I know what you're going through, buddy,” I began quietly. It was easier to talk to Remy than to a piece of rock. “When I first left for Nashville, I cried almost every night. I missed Daddy. I missed my best friends. It felt like this giant hole was in my chest, and nothing or no one could fill it back up.”