by P. Jameson
“Hard,” Gash rumbled. “Like his life depended on it. Because it would.”
Mason nodded slowly. “We’re stronger. We are. But now we’re running out of time. That’s why I’m telling you this straightforward. You’re a straightforward kind of guy. No beating around the bush. So this is me, telling you, you need to be mated by the time Felix comes for us. You need to bond with her, and she with you. You’ll need each other when things go ass up.” Mason pursed his lips, squeezing his eyes closed in a long blink before mumbling through his teeth, “In Destiny’s words, sheeeee, she’s got what you ne-eed. So don’t say she’s just a friend, don’t say she’s just a friend.”
The words were monotone, but Gash recognized the twisted up song lyrics.
Mason held his palms in the air. “I swear, she does this stuff to me all the fucking time, and she doesn’t even have regrets. Butchered that song all to hell, Destiny. I swear,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Gash dragged a hand down his face. He was thankful as fuck he wasn’t Mason right now. Glancing at Bailey’s cabin, he noticed the bedroom light was off. His mate was probably tucked safely in her bed, dreaming this awful night away.
We shouldn’t wake mate.
The cat was right. He didn’t want to worry her, and he could watch over her from afar.
Mason collected his shirt, muttering to himself like he belonged in a straightjacket, and then stomped up his porch steps.
“You mind if I sit on your steps?” Gash asked.
“Sure, whatever. See, at least he asks before barging into my territory. That’s called manners. Say it with me now, maaaaners. You should try it sometime, woman.” Mason slammed the door behind him, cutting off his one-sided argument.
Gash lowered himself to the second step, leaning back on the side rail and kicking his feet up. Crossing his arms, he set his gaze on his Bailey’s cabin. Where it remained until the first glow of the approaching sun bled over the horizon.
Chapter Four
Bailey cleared a larger spot on the counter and set another plate in front of the massive male balancing precariously on a stool. She was running out of room to work, with his plates piling up, and his brother keeping mark with him on the other end of the counter.
She looked back and forth between the two bear shifters. They were twins. Had to be. They had the same short brown hair. The same dark scruff covering their cheeks. Identical chiseled jaws and steel blue eyes. They even had matching muscles. She could stare all day and never tell the difference between Bear #1’s biceps and Bear #2’s.
Bear #1 demolished an entire plate-sized pancake in two bites flat, and just in time, Bailey pushed another platter of eggs in his path.
She glanced down the length of stainless steel. Yep, Bear #2 needed more bacon and his orange juice was empty. Maybe she should’ve given him the entire pitcher?
Who knew grizzlies could eat so much? She’d have to talk to Eagan. They were going to need to reorder supplies, stat.
Bear #1 paused with the forkful of eggs midway to his mouth and met her surprised gaze with a wink. “Thanks, darlin’. Your food’s much better than Cleaver’s. He always burns his eggs. Gets that brown stuff on ‘em. Day old shit would taste better, but I’d never tell him that.”
The two were formerly employed by the falcon shifter as bouncers at his bar. Cleaver’s, named after himself. They’d left the longtime gig after negotiating with Gash. She wondered how he’d convinced them to come here and put their enforcement skills to work for the lodge.
Bear #2 cleared his throat loudly, causing Bailey to jolt. “She’s a lady, Theo.” He stared hard at his brother. “Watch your mouth.”
Theo shot him a blistering look but then eyed Bailey, lips pursed, considering. His gaze narrowed as if he could see through her to the back of the kitchen if he squinted hard enough.
“Mmm. Yeah, maybe.”
Wait. Were they debating whether she was a lady or not? Because she could settle this with one lift of her middle finger. Doc had taught her well. She was a fucking lady, damn it.
She opened her mouth to answer, but Bear #2 was wiping his hands on a napkin and standing to tower over the counter. He pushed one giant palm toward her, the rolled sleeves of his flannel shirt pulling tight around his muscular forearm, and let it hang in the air between them.
“I’m Thames,” he said. Rhymes with limbs. Like Thames could rip your limbs from your body without much effort.
Leaning forward, she shook his hand. His grip was too tight and he must’ve noticed because he loosened immediately.
“My brother here, is Theron.”
“Theo for short,” he chimed in, shoveling more food into his cheeks. He looked like an overgrown chipmunk staring up at her over his fork.
“Nice to meet you both.” Bailey relaxed. They were big and burly but not dangerous. At least not to her.
The kitchen door swung open and Gash strolled in, coming to a short stop when his eyes landed on the place where Bailey’s hand connected with Thames’s.
Gash’s gaze flipped up to hers, instantly hot and angry. She could see the flicker of his animal from all the way across the room. His jaw ticked beneath the scruff of his beard and his fists curled into tight balls at his sides. A threatening sound rumbled from his chest.
Bailey gasped at his low snarl and pulled her hand away from the bear’s, turning on her heel to grab the orange juice pitcher. Quickly, she filled both glasses while Thames settled back on the stool with a raised-eyebrow glance at this brother.
“You’re here early,” Gash grumbled, strolling forward.
“Negative, Nancy.” Theron gulped his orange juice before continuing. “You said get here as soon as possible. Possible happened to be 5am.”
“Possible could’ve happened at noon, or say… after noon,” Thames mused, biting into his bacon. “But Theo was in a hurry to get here, and you made it sound super duper important, so we rushed.”
“And now there’s food,” Theron added, “So I’m definitely not sad that we hurried.”
Thames shook his head. “Not sad at all, brother.”
Bailey glanced at Gash, trying to hide her smirk. He stared between the two bears frowning so hard he looked like one of those smush-faced cats.
“Your girl cooks good,” Theron added.
Gash’s forehead smoothed out almost instantaneously and Bailey opened her mouth to correct the bear—she wasn’t Gash’s anything yet. But then his eyes found hers and with one look, she realized she couldn’t say those words out loud. It didn’t feel right. Not when he looked at her with so much ownership in his gaze.
Bailey swallowed back a purr. She was affected by him. By his dominance. Her cat loved to be looked at like that.
But the woman wanted more.
“Hungry?” she croaked.
“Starved.” The way his eyes burned as they raked over her body, sent a jolt of desire straight to her center.
Holy hell. Food. Get him food. Yeah, that was what she should do.
Dragging her gaze away, she filled another plate with eggs and bacon, and the pancakes he loved. She slathered them with a thick layer of peanut butter because she knew that was how he liked them. No syrup for her man.
Her man. God. She couldn’t afford to think like that.
But he’d called her ‘mine’. So maybe he was a little hers too now.
Bailey slid the plate in front of him before meeting his eyes again.
“Looks delicious,” he rumbled, not even glancing at the food.
Instantly her cheeks flooded with heat, and Gash noticed. She could tell by the way his eyes flared and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. How did he do this? How did he hold her captive with only the intensity of his gaze? Like looking away would cause her to miss something important. Like every blink and breath was a new story to reveal.
Theron cleared his throat and it distracted Gash enough to allow Bailey to glance away. Quickly she started a new batch of pancakes while the m
ales set in to eating.
“You said on the phone you were able to meet our terms,” Theron murmured between bites.
“Yes,” Gash confirmed with a nod. “Though it might take some time to get everything finished. Your requests weren’t something I could make happen overnight. Especially since we were a bit preoccupied keeping the wolves at bay.”
“Hm,” Thames grunted. “I suppose it might take us some time to do our jobs here too. I mean, there’s the whole moving in thing. That’ll take some time. And then we might want to relax a bit before we go to work. And then—”
“I saw two duffle bags by the door,” Gash interrupted. “Moving in will take you ten minutes, tops. And you know what, don’t be an asshole. They don’t like assholes around here. Trust me on that.”
“No way. That right, darling?” Theron asked, slurping his OJ.
Bailey nodded. “Pretty much.”
He smirked and shot her a wink.
A soft snarl slipped past Gash’s throat. “Now I said you’d have what you asked for. All I need is for you to give me a little fucking time. Your damn piano is being delivered tomorrow.”
Theron raised an eyebrow, his expression changing to one of excitement. “Tomorrow? And what about the guitar? And the books? I need the books, that part’s very important.”
Gash nodded, chewing his pancake. “Coming from Little Rock. It’ll all arrive tomorrow.”
The bear nodded. “Okay, yeah. I can live with that. Now what about my brother’s payment?”
Gash quietly stirred his eggs as Bailey tried to appear busy. She got the feeling Thames’s request was not so easily answered.
“Building the chapel will take a bit longer,” Gash murmured. “But I’ve already spoken to Renner and Ryan, and they say it can be done. They’ve already put in the lumber order, and marked off a spot next to the barn.”
Thames nodded gravely. “I don’t require a large one. A simple, small structure will do just fine.”
A chapel? Like where you go to pray? Or for a funeral? Or for a wedding? A chapel at Lake Haven. Odd currency to pay for muscle.
Theron must’ve caught Bailey’s confused expression because he let out a little laugh and said, “Don’t worry, darling. No one’s going to need a funeral yet. My brother’s found religion is all. Ain’t that right, Thames?”
The other bear’s brow furrowed and he shoved more food in his mouth instead of answering.
“He don’t like to talk about it much.” Theron gave her another wink, and she wondered if there was something wrong with his eye. Maybe he should have Doc check it out.
“So. Do we have a deal?” Gash asked.
The brothers locked eyes and seemed to say something without actually speaking.
“Yeah.” Thames nodded, reaching for another piece of bacon. “We have a deal.”
“Great,” Gash grumbled. “Welcome to your new home. You’re now a Ouachita cat… er, bear. What-the hell-ever.”
Chapter Five
Bailey drew in a long breath, bringing her palms together in a prayer pose and holding it while she slowly exhaled.
“Namaste,” she murmured in unison with the other five females in the room.
It was Doc’s idea to do their group yoga session tonight. Even though the lodge was jam packed with guests for the weekend, the clan had two new members to work around, and the threat of danger loomed in the air like a toxic cloud of doom.
Center yourself, Bai. Clear your mind. Breathe stress out, breathe life in. Hakuna Matata and all that.
Oh, Doc thought it would calm them. And she was probably right. But it also left Bailey with a lot of time to think. About Gash and his confession. And the way he’d looked at her at breakfast. And about his brother and his life before Ouachita.
Following Doc’s lead, she went into a hip-opening lotus position, and focused on her breathing.
Mason gave a quick wave through the glass that separated the outdoor yoga studio from the spa. He’d finished his last appointment and was closing up, as they were just getting started.
With the sun setting over the trees, creating a deep topaz glow over the lake, it was easy to get lost in the comfort of nature. The mountains rose up in the background, their trees sparse from winter but preparing to bloom. When they were full of leaves, the mountain would look like it was covered in green shag carpet. Bad if you put that in your house, but lovely rolling down the side of a mountain.
The Ouachitas were beautiful. They were home. And no matter what, it had to stay that way.
Bailey stretched into a new position.
Yoga was the one form of exercise she truly enjoyed. Mostly because anyone could do it. Doc liked to say Yoga was for every body and everybody. And it was true. As was evidenced by their little group. Lithe like Doc and Layna. Curvaceous and petite like Clara. Buxom and tall like Bailey. Or pregnant like Josie and Bethany.
Bailey might be on the fluffy side of perfect, but she could downward dog and crow pose with the best of ‘em.
They went through a short sequence to loosen up and shed the tension they’d accumulated throughout the day before moving on to some more advanced poses. This was Bailey’s favorite part, when she got to test herself.
“How are we feeling, ladies?” Doc asked, easily moving into a dolphin pose.
“Much…” Layna inhaled slowly, and then exhaled. “Better.”
Clara’s lilting voice floated over on the breeze. “Agreed. This was a good idea, Doc.”
Bailey stared at Josie from between her own legs. The human-turned-cougar shifter was almost six months along and her belly was starting to swell. She looked cute as anything, but the C word was off limits. She preferred to be called prego-chic. And she was always asking them if she was waddling or not. The answer was not, but she was paranoid.
Bailey grinned. She wouldn’t mind the waddling if she had a young growing inside her. She’d waddle with pride.
Mama used to say it would never happen for her. That she wasn’t the kind of female any male would want to build a streak with. And Gash had said he didn’t want young to father. Another reason she needed to think carefully before mating him. Because Bailey definitely wanted to be a mother. She’d be nothing like the female she was born to.
She came out of her pose and lifted one foot high in the air, her eyes catching on the other pregnant mate.
She’d be like Bethany. The female was patient with her son, Rhys. And kind, yet stern when she needed to be. She didn’t mock him when he failed, and she never threatened to leave him out on his own if he didn’t attract a mate. Of course, he was only three. But Bailey knew it would be the same when he was twenty.
Rhys wouldn’t find himself out on the streets alone, like she had.
“Bai, you okay there?” Doc asked, her voice slow and calm like the tinkling music that played over the speaker.
“Sure. Why?”
“Your cat was growling,” Josie answered.
“Oh. Sorry.”
Bailey went back to the prayer position to center herself. Breathe stress out, breathe life in.
She didn’t need to think of her mama. Not when she had so many people in her corner now. Any one of these females would have her back, and already had at some point over the years. Even Clara, who she’d only met six months ago. These were her family now. Her streak. And it was all she needed.
And mate, her tiger piped up. Need him. He’s mine.
“Alright, ladies. Let kick things up a notch for our Bailey-girl. She needs the challenge.”
“I’m in,” Clara murmured.
“Me too,” Josie added.
“Ditto,” Bethany breathed.
“Fuck yeah.” Layna. She was the only person alive who could make ‘fuck’ sound like a prayer.
Doc took them through a sequence of poses. This time, difficult enough Bailey had to focus to hold them. It was just the distraction she needed. When her mind was tuned with her body in order to carry out a headstand, there was no ro
om for worry or awful memories of the past.
Minutes ticked by and the sun sank lower, but Bailey had found her calm. Right there, with her friends, who would never throw her to the wolves. Literally or figuratively.
Namaste.
***
Gash stared through the wall-sized glass window, struggling for breath and a way to hide his raging hard-on. Holy hot mother of fuck. He was done for.
His day was busy, getting the bears up to speed on security protocols and familiarizing them with the lodge. Not to mention they each wanted a cave on the property, and one of the only two in existence was somewhat occupied. Clara used to live in it before she’d mated Eagan, and now it held some special significance or something. They wouldn’t let anyone near it without a fight.
It had taken some effort but he’d managed to convince the two bears to share a cave. What the hell they needed a cave for was beyond him. They each had rooms in the employee wing of the lodge. Big ones, with jet tubs and shit.
He’d gone looking for Bailey when he didn’t see her at dinner. His eyes missed her throughout the day, and he wanted to see if she was solid. This morning she’d seemed herself. No more tears or fears. He’d even caught her smirking at the bears’ banter.
But Mason, the dirty dog, had caught him in the corridor and told him Bailey needed him in the spa, that it was urgent. Gash had charged down the hall like something was on fire and his piss could extinguish it, only to find there was no emergency.
None at all. Just his Bailey, bending and contorting in the sexiest ways imaginable. And now he was all up in this window like a puppy in a pet shop looking for a home.
Gash’s swallow was audible as his beauty maneuvered into some sort of standing splits, bringing her curvy leg up to her chest, her toes pointed to the rough wood ceiling of the partially open studio. His jaw went slack as a vision of him pounding into her with her leg held high like that burned into his brain.
Yessssss, his cat hissed.
Bailey twisted gracefully, and caught the back of her heel behind her head, holding it without any effort.
