Hagen, Lynn - Tater's Bear [Brac Pack 22] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

by Lynn Hagen

  “It seems someone is running.” Blair needled the man. Yeah, okay, they were bored out of their minds. Someone new equated to fun in Cecil and Blair’s eyes.

  “Are you always this nosey?”

  “Are you always this defensive?” Blair retorted.

  “Why don’t you go find someone to hassle and leave me the hell alone? You’re irritating as fuck.”

  “Why don’t you kiss my lily-white ass?”

  Before Cecil could even blink, Tater and Blair were chest to chest, growling and snapping at one another. His head whipped to the side when Blair’s mate, Kota, stormed into the den, grabbing Blair around his waist and pulling him away.

  “What’s going on, sunshine?” Kota asked as he glared at the stranger.

  “He’s an ass,” Blair bit out.

  Cecil jumped back when the redheaded stranger charged. What the hell was the guy’s problem? A few other mates joined them as Kota pushed Blair behind him.

  “What’s going on?” Drew asked from beside Cecil.

  “Fight.”

  “That’s pretty damn obvious.” Drew snorted. “Details. I want details, man.”

  “Me, too,” Kyoshi said as he walked in.

  “Twenty says Kota wipes the floor with the large redheaded man.” Okay, so Cecil was really bored.

  “You got it,” Kyoshi said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Although I think someone should tell Maverick what’s going on.”

  “Not on your life,” Cecil said as he glared at Kyoshi. “As desperate as I am for any sort of entertainment, I’ll ring your neck if you tell my mate.”

  “I have twenty that says nothing is going to happen,” Drew added.

  “You’re on.”

  The three stood off to the side of the pool table as they watched Kota and the stranger circle each other.

  This was going to be spectacular.

  “No, no, no,” Nero shouted as he ran into the den. “I just cleaned in here. You better not make a mess. No, you better not.”

  Cecil rolled his eyes. He had an urge to knock the pool balls to the floor just so Nero would run over to pick them up. It would get him the hell out of the way. Cecil took a step forward, ready to touch Nero and make the mate go run and find his sanitizer. He was in the damn way!

  Drew snickered as Cecil and Kyoshi groaned, handing over their money as Maverick stepped into the den.

  So much for having a bit of fun.

  Tater wasn’t sure what had just happened. All he knew was that he had been minding his own business when trouble found him.

  He shook his head as he walked away from the angry men that surrounded him.

  “Tater,” Maverick called his name.

  Tater paused, looking over his shoulder at the large man. “I think I should go.”

  “What happened?”

  Tater gave a disgusted chuckle as he looked past the large man at the man he had argued with. “Life.” He took the steps two at a time as he walked to the room that had been assigned to him. He grabbed his bags from the bedroom and then started for the front door.

  “Tater, wait!” his best friend Taylor shouted as he ran toward Tater.

  Tater sighed as he placed his hand on the doorknob. Why was everyone trying to stop him? All Tater wanted was to get the hell out of there. “What, Taylor?”

  His best friend panted as he reached Tater’s side. “Why are you leaving?”

  Tater shifted his weight to his other leg as he looked around the foyer. “It’s not working out too well.”

  “What happened?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes. “Did someone bother you? Tell me who it was.”

  Tater laughed at his friend’s fierce protectiveness. It was unnecessary, but well appreciated. “I’m cool. I just need to go.”

  Taylor looked around before reaching for the door and opening it, coaxing Tater to step outside. Tater went, not really wanting to hear a lecture right now.

  “Talk to me,” Taylor said as he reached behind him and closed the door.

  “Oh, hell no. Don’t start that psychobabble crap with me, Taylor. Save it for someone who actually needs it.” Tater headed for the gravel drive.

  Taylor ran ahead of him, placing both palms on Tater’s chest. “I’m not talking to you as a counselor. I’m coming at you as a friend. We go a long way back, Hubert.”

  Tater actually laughed. He wasn’t sure if it was from his buddy or if he was finally fracturing under the pressure. “You’re the only one that can call me that and get away with it.”

  Taylor smacked Tater’s chest as he glared at him. “Don’t try and change the subject. I know you. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  Dropping his bags on the grass, Tater ran his hands over his short hair. There was so much boiling inside of him that he didn’t even know where to begin. “Everything, Taylor. There is so much shit in my head that I feel like it’s gonna burst soon.”

  Taylor’s fingers curled into Tater’s shirt as he looked up at Tater, his eyes pleading for Tater to open up and talk to him. “Let me help you.” He quickly held up a hand. “As a friend.”

  Should he? Hell, Tater had no one else to talk to. Olsen was out of the question. He was part of Tater’s angst. “Not here.”

  Taylor nodded as he waved a hand down at Tater’s bags. “I’ll have you taken to the shelter so you have somewhere to sleep. From your bags I take it you can’t go home?”

  That was an understatement. “Nope. I told my dad I was gay.”

  Taylor winced as he bit his bottom lip, giving Tater a quick nod. “Okay. Let’s get you settled for the night and then we’ll take it from there.”

  “On one condition, Taylor.”

  “Name it.”

  “I’m already homeless. I don’t need everyone looking at me like I’m crazy as well. No one finds out about me talking to you.” That was all he needed. To be named the town homeless crazy man. Tater had enough weighing him down without a label.

  “Done. Now let me go get my mate so we can get you settled.”

  “Mate?”

  “Oh, hell. I’m gonna kill someone. I guess we have more to talk about than I originally thought.”

  Tater had a feeling his talks with Taylor were going to be very enlightening, and as painful as getting a tooth pulled.

  Hoo-fucking-rah.

  Chapter Five

  Olsen sat on the front porch steps as he sipped his morning cup of coffee. His pa had informed him that Tater was no longer at Maverick’s but at the town shelter. Olsen pulled a leg up to the step below him as he rested his arm on his knee. He couldn’t understand what was going on. If anything, Olsen was confused as hell.

  “You okay?” his womb mate, Bryce, asked as he stepped out onto the porch. Olsen was the first born in a set of triplets, Bryce being the second. Gavin was their other womb mate. He was the last born but the first mated among the three.

  Olsen looked out over the front yard as he thought about his mate in a shelter. “Not really.”

  Bryce took a seat on the swing behind Olsen. “Is it Tater?”

  All six of his brothers and his pa knew Olsen was having problems with his mate. He was surprised the twins, Chauncey and Chance, hadn’t made fun of him. He was expecting it. But the two hadn’t said a word to him about his redheaded problem. It just showed that his brothers did have a compassionate bone in their bodies, even if it was their pinky that carried it.

  “Yeah.”

  Bryce stopped the swing as he stood and walked over to Olsen, squatting down next to him. “Can I get a more elaborate answer, or are we going to play twenty questions?”

  Olsen looked over his shoulder at his mirror image. “What do you want from me? I’m not gonna spill my guts and cry. We’re having issues. Big deal.”

  “Issues? Since when do you call it issues? Dude, you’re scaring me.” Bryce chuckled as he sat on the step next to Olsen. “Seriously, anything I can do to help?”

  Olsen shook his head. He wished it were that sim
ple. “Not unless you can tell me why my mate hates me.” He couldn’t understand how Tater hated him. He’d been nothing but kind to his mate since first discovering who he was. He’d been patient as a mama bear, coaxing Tater to spend time with him, and all his mate had done was push him away.

  The killer part was, when Olsen backed away, Tater came running. He just couldn’t make any sense of it. What the hell did he have to do to get his mate to open up or at least be less prickly?

  “Men,” Bryce snorted. “I’ll never understand them.”

  This made Olsen laugh. “I hear ya. They are a bizarre bunch, aren’t they?” he asked playfully as he stared down into his cooling cup of coffee.

  “Just when you think you have them figured out, bam, they change their damn minds.” His brother laughed as he spoke. It felt good to hear someone laughing. Lord knew Olsen hadn’t felt like it since meeting Tater and finding out his mate didn’t want him.

  Olsen sobered. “At least you have a clue before they change their minds. I’m still trying to find that damn clue.”

  Bryce’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “It’ll all work out. I don’t have a fucking clue how, but it seemed like the thing to say.”

  Olsen shrugged Bryce’s hand off of him. “Get out of here. Thank goodness you’re not a counselor.”

  Bryce stood and stretched before walking back up the steps. “Never claimed to be one, bro.”

  And that was the truth.

  Bryce couldn’t give advice to save his life, or anyone else’s. The bear worked on a different frequency than most beings. Olsen smiled as he lifted his cup and took a drink of…cold ass coffee. He tossed the remaining brew out onto the grass as he set the cup on the step beside him.

  Today was the cookout. Pa had told him that some of Maverick’s pack would be here and that they would make sure Tater came as well. Olsen bristled at the idea that someone else was seeing to his mate’s needs. It just wasn’t right.

  He should be the one taking care of Tater, not everyone else. He felt like a failure as a mate.

  “Pa needs you in the kitchen,” Riley, the oldest son, hollered through the screen door. Olsen grabbed his mug and headed into the house.

  So much for a spot of peace in the morning.

  “I need you to go into town and get me some supplies for the cookout, Olsen. The list is on the counter.” His pa nodded toward a piece of notebook paper lying by the toaster. Olsen swiped it from its resting place and headed toward the front door. He shoved the list into his back pocket before climbing into his truck.

  He wasn’t going to lie. Going into town made his heart race. There was no way he would be there without checking on his mate at the shelter. Olsen had a feeling he wouldn’t be welcomed right about now, not with the way Tater had been acting. But to set his eyes on his mate’s beautiful face was worth the attitude Tater was sure to give him.

  Olsen’s gut twisted and his heart beat faster as he entered Brac Village’s small town. His eyes immediately went to the resource center. He pulled in front of the grocery store, but Olsen’s feet guided him across the street. He stepped up onto the curb in front of the Santiagos’ bike shop, slowly making his way down the row of businesses. Too bad the resource center was right next door.

  “Hey, Olsen.” Law nodded as he walked out of the bike shop. “We’re not officially open yet this morning, but if you need help, come on in.”

  Olsen glanced over at the resource center, longing to go in and see Tater. “Thanks, but I’m here for other errands.”

  “Anytime,” Law Santiago said as he stepped back into the shop. Olsen braced himself and walked the few feet to the next building, glancing into the large glass window as he passed it to the front door. He saw Taylor sitting at his desk, but there was no sign of Tater. He grabbed the door and pulled it open, stepping inside and then pausing.

  Taylor looked up from whatever he was doing and smiled at Olsen. “Looking for Tater?”

  Olsen nodded.

  “He’s in the back if you want to go see him.”

  Olsen walked past Taylor’s desk, heading straight for his mate. He paused in the doorway when he saw Tater standing by a back wall, staring out of the window.

  Fuck, his mate was so damn gorgeous that it hurt to not be able to hold him. Olsen’s hands clenched and unclenched as his breath was stolen when Tater turned and looked at him, tears glistening in his pale green eyes.

  Olsen closed the distance in a few strides, pulling his mate into his arms. It felt so good to hold Tater. His mate didn’t object, but he didn’t wrap his arms around Olsen either. He didn’t care. Tater was in his arms. He cupped the back of his mate’s head as Tater buried his face into Olsen’s neck.

  Fear of ruining the moment stopped Olsen from asking what was wrong. He didn’t want this moment to ever end. His mate’s body pressed into his was pure bliss.

  “I—”

  Olsen waited for Tater to finish what he was going to say. When he didn’t, Olsen pulled him closer. “You don’t have to say a word. Just let me hold you.”

  Tater relaxed against Olsen’s chest, his hands hesitantly touching Olsen’s back. He inhaled his mate’s scent, closing his eyes at the smell of ripe apples and cinnamon. There couldn’t be a more heavenly scent on earth.

  Olsen relaxed his tight grip when Tater pulled his head back, staring up into Olsen’s eyes with his brilliant green ones. Good god, Olsen had never seen a look like the one shadowing Tater’s eyes.

  Lost.

  Tater’s eyes swam in loneliness and a look that said he was so lost that it hurt. Chancing rejection, because Olsen couldn’t stop himself if he had tried, he closed the distance and took Tater’s lips in a searing kiss.

  Their first kiss.

  The kiss sent the pit of Olsen’s stomach into a wild swirl. The caress of Tater’s lips on his mouth and along his body set him aflame. Olsen planned on being slow, gentle, but Tater had other plans. The kiss was punishing, angry. He didn’t understand it, but Olsen wasn’t going to allow Tater to punish him. He took the kiss back, commanding it as he cupped his mate’s face.

  Raising his mouth from Tater’s, Olsen gazed into his mate’s eyes. He saw a third emotion, an emotion he was willing to explore.

  Lust.

  Olsen growled when Tater reached a hand between them and unsnapped his jeans. Desire ran through him like a raging river. Olsen wanted. He wanted his mate in the worst way. When Tater tried to shove him away, tried to handle him roughly, Olsen slammed his mate against the wall and inserted his thigh between Tater’s legs.

  “I’m in charge,” he growled as he nipped at Tater’s shoulder. His bear roared when Tater didn’t tilt his head in submission. Olsen’s breathing became labored as Tater glared at him angrily, twisting his wrists as he stroked Olsen’s cock feverishly. Olsen snapped at him and growled as Tater jerked his hand faster, his jaw clenched as he locked eyes with Olsen.

  He was challenging him.

  Olsen slammed Tater’s shoulders into the wall, making it known with his eyes that he didn’t want Tater to move one damn inch as he unfastened his mate’s jeans. Olsen’s pulse beat faster as he palmed his mate’s large cock in his hand. He could hear Tater’s breath hitch, but his mate’s lips thinned as they began a duel to see who would give in to the pleasure first.

  Olsen could feel his orgasm approaching. His spine felt like a live wire had touched it as his balls drew close to his body. His legs wanted to tremble, but he fought against coming first. Tater needed to learn that Olsen wasn’t the one who was going to be dominated.

  Tater’s head fell back onto his shoulders as a guttural cry left his lips. Hot seed splashed Olsen’s hand as he mate fell apart right before his eyes. Watching the sated bliss play across Tater’s face was Olsen’s undoing. He hitched his hips as Tater’s grip tightened, roaring out his release as his body convulsed.

  Olsen leaned forward, touching his lips to Tater’s ears as sweat ran down his back. “Reme
mber that.”

  Tater growled and pushed Olsen away. He took a step back. That was as far as Tater could move him unless Olsen wanted to move.

  “Get the fuck away from me,” Tater shouted as he righted his clothes. Tater’s eyes blazed with fury, but Olsen had caught the scared look in his mate’s eyes before the anger had taken over.

  Somehow, he was going to get Tater to let down his guard permanently, and when he did, Olsen was going to teach his mate just what submission truly was.

  Okay, so Cecil felt like shit for enjoying the dumb ass argument between Blair and the redhead. He needed to let Tater—Who the hell named their kid Tater? Cecil shook his head at his wandering thoughts. He needed to let Tater know that there were no hard feelings.

  But how?

  There was a barbeque today at the Lakelands’. Cecil hadn’t planned on attending, but now his mind was changed.

  “I know that look,” Maverick said as he walked up behind Cecil and wrapped his arms around him. “What are you planning, mate?”

  There was no way he was telling. No matter how good Maverick fucked him. And his mate fucked like a god. Even after all these years Cecil still craved the alpha’s touch. He squirmed around as his cock hardened when Maverick began to kiss him down the side of his neck. No fair!

  “Tell me.”

  “N–Nothing. I swear,” Cecil groaned when Maverick cupped his cock through his denim.

  “I have ways of making you talk.”

  Yes, Maverick did. But Cecil wasn’t stupid enough to spill the beans. It helped his case when he didn’t know what the hell he was planning on doing anyway. He would have to enlist the help of the other mates, but Maverick didn’t have to know that.

  “Give me your best shot,” Cecil challenged as Maverick lifted him off of his feet and carried him to their bedroom.

  God love interrogations.

  Tater stared at Olsen from across the yard. Taylor had dragged him to this dumb cookout stating that Tater needed to work on his social skills. He didn’t take too kindly to Taylor calling him a hermit. It may be true, but he didn’t like his downfalls pointed out.