“Does he need a handler?”
Cree snorted. “Stupid bears. Too much testosterone. Not enough brains.”
Tamara smiled and wrinkled her nose at him. “I’ll tell Hadley you gave Hunter such a compliment.”
Cree lifted a shoulder. “Eh, smack talking is what we do. He’d probably faint if I said something nice.”
“You should try it. Just to see.”
“I should. Wouldn’t that be something?” They were quiet for a few minutes. “How did real estate hunting go?”
Tamara’s eyes lit with excitement. “Not exactly hunting, but I think it went well. Rafe showed me this place right next to the hair salon. Beautiful hardwood floors. A little one-bedroom apartment on the second floor.”
“Is that what you want? To live on your own?”
Tamara shrugged which didn’t tell Cree anything. He turned to look at her. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Your place is so far away from town. I know you prefer your privacy, but I’ll be running yoga classes several times a day. This will give me a place to be between classes.” She blushed and averted her eyes.
“Don’t do that,” Cree begged. “Don’t hide from me, Tams. Just say it.”
“I’ve never been on my own. I want a place to say this is Tamara’s.” She lifted her eyes and rushed through the rest. “I don’t want you to be hurt by that, though. I don’t want us to change. But, I was virtually a prisoner at Adele’s. I want to taste freedom for a while.”
Cree propped his head up on one hand. The other he used to trace the satiny skin exposed above the quilt. “I understand that,” he said. “Maybe more than anyone else in the world.” He snorted with laughter. “Hell, I mark my territory at my house all the time.”
Tamara giggled at his words. “That’s nasty,” she said, kissing his chin.
“Gotta’ keep those damn bears away from my land,” Cree muttered, pleased when she touched him of her own free will. His hand caressing her grew bolder. Instead of flinching, she pressed into him.
“I’m not sure what happened yesterday,” he said, lowering his face to nuzzle the blankets out of the way. “But I’m thankful as fuck.”
Tamara arched, offering up one small, pert breast for his perusal. “So sweet,” he muttered, lapping at the hardened nipple.
“I’m tiny,” she whispered, cheeks growing pink again.
“I think you pronounced perfect wrong,” Cree said, kissing her.
She smiled at him shyly. “Can we try something different this morning?”
“Baby, we can do anything you want.”
“I don’t want to get scared, but I think the more we do, the more confident I’ll become.”
“Haven’t you figured it out?”
“Figured what out? And if you keep doing that with your fingers, I’m not going to be able to think at all.”
“I’m a wild animal in bed.” Cree dipped his head and grinned up at her. “More afraid of you than you are of me.”
She laughed, the joyful sound echoing in the quiet room. Tamara burrowed her hands in his thick hair and massaged his scalp. “C’mere wild man. Let’s see how afraid you are.”
Tamara
By three o’clock, Tamara was bored, bored, bored, with a side of blasé. She’d read, done a yoga practice on the sun-warmed deck, folded her clothes twice, and eaten an entire bag of chips.
Tamara had spent the last decade working and going to school. Getting her two-hundred-hour yoga teacher certificate. This much downtime was driving her crazy.
She tried to enjoy the downtime and not think too much about the future. Once she had her own business, she’d have more work than hours in a day. But days off made hardworking multi-taskers like her itchy and nervous.
But it did reinforce her desire to have her own place in the center of town. She liked rural living, but the isolation of Maxwell Mountain Resorts was a little too quiet for her.
Tamara opened to door to see what Lacey was up to only to find Lacey on her way across the parking lot. “Hey, Lacey. How do you stand this much quiet? I’m going out of my mind.”
“It’s not so bad once you get used to it,” Lacey said. “Besides, I work three days a week at an animal clinic in town, I have two foster cats, and I’m trying to talk Seximus Prime into building me a llama enclosure.”
Tamara’s lips quirked. “You do seem to enjoy your llamas.” Today, Lacey’s shirt said “my llama don’t like you, and she likes everyone.”
“Llamas are cool.”
“Don’t they spit?”
Lacey waved away Tamara’s concerns. “I’m trying to talk Quinn into getting a pair. We have plenty of land for a llama farm.”
“Pretty sure you can talk Quinn into just about anything,” Tamara teased.
“True, true. I do have my skills, don’t I?” Lacey’s smile was proud. “Anyway, Hadley just called. She’s a little stir crazy. Hunter is away handling a forest fire, and Hadley wants to go out.” Lacey’s smile was full of mischief. “How about an evening of dancing at the Lusty Leopard?”
“You guys have fun,” Tamara said, trying not to be disappointed. “I can stay home and babysit Anthony. I’m not twenty-one yet. I can’t get in.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks,” Lacey said. “Your mate owns the place.”
“Half-owns,” Tamara corrected her. “He has a silent partner.”
“Huh. I didn’t know that.” Lacey waved her hand. “Anyway, Dan is coming up to watch Anthony.”
Tamara shivered. Dan was a hawk shifter who lost his eye in an accident a while back. He’d been quiet and sullen since coming around, and Tamara wasn’t quite sure she liked him. “Does he know anything about babies?”
“I’m sure it will be fine. Now, go get into your prettiest dress. If you don’t have anything, you can borrow one of mine.”
Tamara laughed and indicated the difference in their chest sizes. “Not sure I’d fit in one of your dresses. I’m sure I have something, though.”
“Perfect! We’ll go out to dinner, and then head over to the Leopard.”
“I shouldn’t. I don’t have a job, yet. I want to buy or rent a building. I need to save everything I have.”
Lacey sat on the front porch and patted the space next to her. “Sit down, sweetie.”
Tamara rolled her eyes but couldn’t resist Lacey’s Southern Belle invitation.
“Now, look, I am inviting you out to dinner. We are all going to be regular clients at your studio, and I’m sure you won’t even need to waitress a full month before your classes are full.”
“I’m not quite that optimistic but thank you for believing in me.” Tamara took a deep breath, calming her nerves. “I’ve been saving since my first job. Everything was about having enough money to leave Adele’s house and find Cree.”
“Adele is your mama, right? The one who told ya’lls each other was dead?”
“That about sums her up.” Tamara hoped that on some level, Adele loved her. And maybe one day there could be forgiveness. But not today.
“I will treat for dinner. You can talk to Mel about a start date. Then we will all get into the club and get our dance on.”
Against her better judgment, Tamara nodded. She was finally getting comfortable with casual touching. She had finally made love to her mate. She was getting better. What harm could happen on a dancefloor surrounded by shifters?
Chapter Nine
Cree
Cree was aware of Tamara the second she walked through the doors. He loved seeing her so free and confident as she laughed and joked with her new friends. Cree caught Murray’s eyes, telling him it was okay to let them in.
Jason needed help at the bar, so Cree took over one end. A local band played in the back, and it promised to be a busy night.
There were a few rowdy assholes in to clean up underbrush on the mountain, but for the most part, it was the usual crowd. A few college kids from App State, some shifters, and a few locals.
As the pr
ess of people increased, Cree’s attention was pulled away from Tamara and company dancing and having fun. He had beers to pour and a bar to run.
“Can I get a hard cider?”
Cree smiled at the college student. She looked as out of her depth in the Leopard as a fly in milk. “If you need a ride home, we have a taxi service,” he told her.
A stirring of his senses made him uneasy. His gaze darted around, seeking Tamara. “Jase, you good?” Cree didn’t bother for an answer. It wouldn’t have mattered if there were customers ten deep around the bar. Tamara was in trouble.
Not bothering with walking around, Cree leaped onto the bar and jumped down. Last he’d seen her, she was dancing in the back with her girlfriends.
Cree zeroed in on the fuckwad gripping his girl’s arm, but he was too far away to do anything. He elbowed his way through the taller men, cursing his lack of height. “Fucking bear shifters,” he muttered.
His instincts told him to charge in like he owned the place. Shove the fuckwad off for daring to touch Tamara. But then the image of her wide brown eyes appeared in his mind. The look of horror and fear disgust? in her eyes when he’d attacked Elliot.
Cree just got her back. Tamara was his to pet, hold, and love. Cree could not would not allow his temper to put that look of horror back on her face.
Swallowing, fists clenched in rage, Cree slowed down and moved forward with calm purpose.
Tamara
As predicted, the bouncer at the bar didn’t ask to see their ID.
Something slow and twangy was playing on the jukebox when they entered the Lusty Leopard. “Oh, I love this song.” Lacey grabbed Hadley by the hand and pulled her onto the dancefloor.
“How rude.” Kimber winked at Tamara. She tilted her head. “How about it? May I have this dance?”
Tamara took a look around the near-deserted floor. She totally had this. “Let’s go!”
Laughing, dancing, wiggling around with her new friends, Tamara felt the kind of freedom and happiness she’d never experienced before.
“Having fun?” Lacey called over the rising din.
Tamara nodded as sweat slipped down her back. Her spine straightened, and she felt a new level of confidence enter her body. “Never better.”
Kimber touched Tamara’s forearm. “I’m going to get a drink and check out the bartender. Wanna come?”
Tamara looked up to see Cree in the middle of a group of guys, pouring beer, popping tops, and mixing drinks. “Ooh, he is cute,” she said with a wink.
But as they left the dancefloor, another hand shot out and grabbed Tamara’s forearm. At first, Tamara stared at the meaty grip wrapped around her arm, not quite able to process what was happening.
“You’re looking awfully sexy out there grinding on your girlfriend. How about a man to grind on?”
Tamara looked down at his hand and then back up at him. “Not interested, cowboy.”
“You’re hot.”
Seeing her friends in line for drinks, Tamara knew she was on her own. She wasn’t sure where Creole was, but she had to count on herself. Once she got Murray’s attention, Meaty Fists would be gone.
“You could’ve said that without grabbing me.”
Meaty Fists shook her a little and dread crawled up her spine. “Then I couldn’t get this view.” He leered down at her high neckline top at her non-existent cleavage.
“This view isn’t for public viewing.” Her eyes narrowed with anger.
“Dance with me,” the drunk ordered.
“No.” Tamara’s jaw tensed. There was no give in her. She could not go docilely onto the dancefloor with this behemoth. She began to tremble, unsure of what she would do if he continued to manhandle her.
“You too good for the likes of me?” He stank of old laundry and stale beer.
Tamara’s gorge rose, and she fought back her nausea. “A raccoon ravaged garbage can is too good for you.”
Meaty Fists shook her until her teeth ached and she worried the delicate bones in her wrist would snap like twigs beneath his grip.
Tamara’s whimper was lost in the flow of conversation, music, and glass bottles tossed into the trash. “No.” It was barely audible, even to Tamara’s ears, but she said it. She shook her head to further reinforce her decision. “Now let go of me.”
Meaty Fists wasn’t about to release her. “Just a dance. You come into a shifter bar, shaking your cute ass. I know it’s what you want.”
Tamara turned to look for Kimber, but she was gone. Panic burst through her cells and demanded she leave. Now. Immediately. Ten minutes ago.
She pulled on her arm, determined to get away from him. Tamara wasn’t the weak child she’d once been. Would never be again.
Flashbacks, ones she hoped she’d never see or feel again, pushed against her memories. Seducing her with the ease of allowing them in.
Tamara struggled in his grip, but her attempts made Meaty Fists smile down at her.
“Just a dance, girlie. I’ll let you go after that. I promise.”
Tamara read the lie in his eyes. His voice. His body language. “I said no.” Using all of her weight, she shoved her elbow into his solar plexus. He stumbled back, clutching his chest and gasping for breath.
Seeing her chance, Tamara turned to find her mate and friends. “Oof,” she said as she walked into Creole’s chest. “Oh. Hey there. I was just coming to look for you.” No one had ever looked as good to her in her whole life.
Tamara burrowed into his chest sighing when Creole put his arms around her. This was how a man smelled. Warm and musky.
Cree’s eyes weren’t on her, though. He was eyeing up Meaty Fists like a cougar scenting a deer. “Is there a problem here?”
Meaty Fists tried to intimidate Cree with his height, but there was no fear for him to exploit.
“I’ve killed and gone to prison for this woman,” Cree said, green eyes never leaving his opponent. “I have no problem going back.”
Suddenly, Tamara saw it from Cree’s point of view. It must be killing him not to rip Fists apart. She pressed her ear against his chest.
Cree trembled with his restraint.
“Baby?” Tamara touched Creole’s arm, sliding up to his neck. “He’s not worth it. You know I need you in my arms. I don’t want to have to visit you in prison again.”
Fists swallowed as he realized Cree wasn’t bluffing. “Look, you can’t blame a guy for trying. She’s a hot little piece.”
Cree’s growl started low as his cougar longed to be let free.
Tamara waved over to the bouncer who had let her in. “Have one of the bartenders toss him out on his ass.”
“Hey, Murray, this fuckwad was bothering my mate. Could you make sure he’s never allowed back in here again?” Cree’s arm tightened around Tamara’s shoulder as if to reassure both man and cat she was safe.
“Sure thing boss.” Murray was just as big and twice as dominant as the drunken shifter. He grabbed Fists by the upper arm and propelled him through the packed bar. Trailing in his wake, Fists looked more like a guppy than a dangerous shark.
Tamara pressed herself into her mate’s body. “Thank God you were there,” she whispered into his ear. She could feel the still tenseness of Creole’s body. He was coiled and ready to pounce.
Once the threat was over, Creole wrapped both arms around her. He rubbed his cheek over her hair, vibrating with the need to remove fuckwad’s scent from her.
Tamara was frantic, not sure how to bring Creole back from the edge. “I need you to hold me. Come dance with me.” Her invitation was sultry as she tugged him by the hand. “Please?”
His body still taut, Cree wrapped his arms around her and simply swayed to the music. “You okay?” he asked.
“I have you.” Tamara kissed him. “I’ve never been better.”
“That guy.”
“I kept thinking about before.”
“I know. Me, too.”
Cree buried his nose in the crook of her neck. “I did
n’t know what to do. I froze. Part of me wanted to kill him for touching you. The other part can’t get the image of your eyes out of my brain after I killed Elliot.” Cree gasped as though in physical pain. “I can’t lose you again. Not to assholes and especially not to my own temper.”
“Shh. I never was afraid of you, Cree. Not once. Not ever.”
“I saw you.”
Hot tears spilled down Tamara’s cheeks. “I was afraid you’d hate me. For letting Elliot—”
Creole swore, a mixture of profanity-laced prayer and tightened his arms even further. “Don’t you say it. Don’t even fucking think it, Tamara Brennan. I didn’t blame you. Didn’t judge you. You were a child and a victim. He signed his own fucking death warrant.”
“Getting. Hard. Breathe.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Creole loosened his grip and stroked her hair.
“I’m not.” They were barely swaying in time to the music. Tamara closed her eyes as she held him.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. I don’t want to think about him. Either of them. Not when I’m in your arms. I handled him. Thank you for having my back.”
Cree’s smile was slow as the tension drained from his muscles. “You were amazing. You were never in any danger. He would have been removed, but you just smacked the fucker right in the solar plexus.”
Tamara blushed with pleasure. There was something to intellectually knowing she could handle a man versus actually putting a creep in his place.
“I realized something else tonight?”
“Oh?”
“Uh huh.” Tamara would have loved to say they were dancing, but she was pretty sure their swaying was little more than foreplay. “I love to dance. I’m so glad I met Hadley, Lacey, and Kimber.”
“You four can come and dance anytime you want. I doubt after tonight anyone will mess with Tamara and her elbows of fury.”
Tamara giggled a little, relieved the situation was over. Humbled by Creole’s reaction. She kissed his neck, her tongue teasing him.
Pressed against him, she heard Creole begin to purr. Tamara pressed her forehead against his chest. “I don’t want anyone that close.”
“No one?”
“No one but you.”
Her Mountain Lion Mate (Shifter Special Forces Book 3) Page 7
