MC Bear My Baby (Beartooth Brotherhood MC)

by Bella Love-Wins

  “I’ll leave you two to do whatever needs doing, if you’ll kindly give me my kitchen back…after I step out of it so you can clean it up a bit, yes?”

  “We will.” Tate turned toward the pile of naughty gear and stayed in the spot as if transfixed.

  What had happened to her biker badass? Her mother arched a brow and gave Molly a knowing look that said everything without a word from her perfectly made-up mouth. She was definitely going to hear about this over the phone later.

  “Yes, Mom. Why don’t you go sit on the couch and we’ll take care of everything. Then we’ll get out of your hair and you can have the place to yourself.”

  “And Molly, darling?”

  “Yes, Mom?”

  “The industrial cleaning supplies the maids use are under the counter.”

  With a wink, Mom headed to the hallway and disappeared around the corner. Neither Molly nor Tate said anything as they made quick work of tidying up the kitchen. She was pretty shocked at his efficiency where cleaning was concerned, given the fact that most of the live-in twisted claws, their MC groupies, kept the clubhouse clean so the big boys wouldn’t have to lift a finger most of the time. He went at the sink with a sponge and she almost stopped him, but then she let him go wild. If he wanted to leave the place spotless, even places they hadn’t touched, he could have at it.

  “I’m a bit surprised you’re really okay with staying at the clubhouse until we take care of your little problem.” Tate mentioned over his shoulder while he scrubbed the counter.

  “I figured that would be your first suggestion, so I was already mentally prepared for it.”

  He grunted. She knew he didn’t like being pegged as predictable. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Tate adjusted his cock in his pants. Poor guy must have had an awkward case of blue balls. She mentally promised herself she’d fix it later and surveyed the kitchen. It looked pretty decent.

  “Thanks for helping me tidy up. You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

  He shrugged. “It’s cool. We both shocked the bejesus out of your mother. It just made sense that we both get the place back in one piece.” Tucking the rags away in the bottom cupboard, he turned to look at her and crossed his arms. “Besides, I want out of here ASAP. Helping out means you get your pretty ass packed up faster, and wrapped around me on the back of my bike.”

  “Yes. I need to hurry with that. I have to work tonight. Give me two seconds to throw stuff into a bag.”

  Mom still thought she was a night shift waitress when really she was moonlighting as a medic for an underground women’s boxing club. The money was good and it allowed her to polish up her skills. She had already done her degree in nursing back in Louisiana, and this practice helped her prepare for the national nursing exam. If successful, she could apply for her state license right away. She could only imagine the hell she’d get from Mom for hanging out in places like that.

  “No problem. I want to take another look around here and see what kind of video surveillance would work. Your mom would be cool with that, right?” Tate’s brows rose and his gaze went around the kitchen.

  They’d barely made eye contact since her mother came home. She couldn’t blame him, really, when she never let them in the same room more than a handful of times. She and Tate were supposed to be bedmates and nothing more.

  “Sure. I’ll get these put away and pack up a few things. You can tell her the kitchen’s ready and she’ll make herself busy in here. She won’t mind you poking around because she knows what’s going on. She’s the one who paid for your gig, so do whatever you think is best. You’re the expert.”

  Snatching up the handful of sex toys, she booked it across the hallway and up the stairs to her bedroom. She dumped everything on her bed and stood at her dresser drawer, taking a breath and smiling a bit about what had just happened. She’d only been in the room less than ten minutes when there was a knock on the door jamb. She turned around just in time to face her mother and Tate standing in the open doorway.

  Great, a tag team already.

  She plopped down on the edge of the bed, awaiting whatever it was they wanted with her—together.

  Could this get any weirder?

  On second thought, she didn’t want an answer to that question.

  “What’s up? I’m almost ready to go, Tate. Everything all right?”

  “We’re solid.” He nodded his head, giving her little to no indication that he was reading her screaming body language that all but begged him to get their asses out of the house. “Your mom was telling me something interesting in the living room that I thought you might want to hear about, something about that ex of yours coming to say hello?”

  A sliver of dread made her fingers and toes tingle as her stomach formed into a lumpy, hard knot. Oh, this wasn’t good at all. Not judging by his facial expression. He was giving absolutely nothing away, and her mother looked as if she’d just been invited to a garden party. She was definitely covering up the gravity of something serious.

  Molly dug her hands into the comforter behind her back and pasted on a fake smile that hurt her mouth. “Tell me what happened, Mom. I’d love to hear it.”

  “I was at the grocery store picking out some carrots when you know who bumped his cart into me. He apologized profusely, but I know it was all a ruse.” Mom glanced back at Tate and he gave her the same blank face. “Anyway, I told him he needed to leave you alone once and for all, and all I can say is I’m glad we were in a public place.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. Thankfully it didn’t come to that. That Jett Williams needs a serious talking to by the authorities, Molly. I don’t think he’ll stop.”

  Molly nodded dumbly, mouth dry, and trying to wrap her mind around the mental wreck that was happening inside her mind. She fumbled for words, but could only make small motions with her mouth. Her fingers were claws digging through the sheets and into her palms. The sharp pain kept her from going completely off the deep end.

  “Jett Williams?” Tate repeated, still leaning against the hallway wall with his stare pinned to Molly.

  Molly didn’t repeat the name. In fact she wished she’d never hear it again.

  “Yes,” she croaked, meeting Tate’s even gaze that promised a slow retribution for her ex.

  Goosebumps crawled along her limbs and she held back a shudder at the idea that her ex had been in such close proximity to her mother, even in a public place. He was escalating, and this obsession with their relationship was heading into dangerous turf. She loathed the idea of him tracking down Mom on top of everything else. She was vaguely aware her mother was still babbling about her encounter with him while Tate subtly listened. He was definitely taking mental notes on everything she said.

  Mom went on about how Jett couldn’t accept that things just hadn’t worked out in Louisiana between them. “Nothing had gone wrong, per se, he was a nice enough guy. They just weren’t right for each other. They’d only been together for a few months when he brought up the idea of proposing in casual conversation. He was moving too fast, and the more Molly tried to slow him down the more desperate he became.”

  Molly swallowed past the tightness in her throat and hoped this nightmare could end, but it was hard to banish a past that kept showing up at her front door.

  “Oh, shoot, I almost forgot!” When Molly’s eyes refocused on her mother she had one finger up in the air and brushed past Tate into the other room. When she returned, she told her, “This was in the mailbox for you. It’s definitely his handwriting on the envelope.”

  Tate didn’t waste any time moving into the room and putting a strong, supportive hand on her shoulder. “You doing okay?”

  The feel of his fingers massaging into her muscles was so comforting, she could close her eyes and just enjoy his touch, if only Mom weren’t on her way back to Molly’s room.

  “Trying.”

  “This Jett dude’s going to try and come back here soon, isn’t he?”


  “Probably.”

  He grunted, his hand falling away. For a second, she almost missed that feel of his warmth on her skin. Her mother came striding back into the room just then, waving the envelope in her hand. She presented it to Molly as if it contained a ticking time bomb. At the moment, she hated the fact that Jett could get to her so easily. That she could have ever thought he was a decent man.

  “I’ll, uh, leave you two alone now. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

  Her mother’s searching gaze flicked from Molly to Tate and back, then she gave her an awkward smile and scurried off down the hall.

  “She thinks you should have done away with this psychopath ages ago, doesn’t she?” Tate didn’t waste any time taking the letter from her hand and ripping it open.

  “What can I say? Back then, she wasn’t very convincing…”

  She didn’t have it in her to object to Tate reading Jett’s letter, not when it was his job, and after hearing her mother’s elaborate story she wasn’t eager to read it either. Tate grunted a couple of times as he read, then he rubbed his right arm and balled up the letter, shoving it in his pants pocket before he faced her again.

  “You done packing, Moll?”

  Molly stiffly nodded, feeling like someone outside of her own body. Tate reached around her and zipped up her duffel bag, sliding it over his shoulder. She barely registered his movements, too lost in her own thoughts. All she wanted to do was go to sleep and pretend this day never happened. Screw that, she was better off forgetting the past few months. Jett was always a persistent guy. Back when they dated, it was kind of cute, then it began to upset the heck out of her, and after she told him to hit the road and he didn’t, it just pissed her off. Now, he was wearing her down into a steady state of paranoia and exhaustion.

  “I get why you and your mother hired me,” Tate grunted. He cocked his head and licked his lips. “I got to say, I like that you picked us…”

  “Huh?” Molly glanced up at him, torn from her memories with a frown, his eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “This little arrangement will make things a hell of a lot easier for us, don’t you think?”

  “What? How?”

  “Think about it. You, down the hall from me at the clubhouse. It sounds damn good to me.”

  It took every bit of restraint she possessed not to junk punch him for saying that. “Seriously, Tate? Don’t you think about anything but sex?”

  “Sure I do. Like weapons, good booze, long rides…want me to go on?”

  “Save it.”

  “I got you to smile, didn’t I?”

  Damn it, he had. Or at least her anger and emotional turmoil were slowly draining away.

  “You’re something else.”

  “And yet your money in my pocket says otherwise.”

  He rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets, letting out a little whistle that made her grit her teeth. It was going to be a long few days. And he was right—she’d paid him for the luxury.

  Crap.

  5

  Molly

  While Tate was strapping Molly’s duffel bag to the back of his ride, Molly walked further down the private driveway to her Jeep. She needed to grab the pieces of ID she kept stowed in the glove compartment and one of her textbooks. She clicked the remote when she was halfway across the semi-circular paved driveway, but didn’t hear the usual sound of the door unlocking.

  “Strange,” she muttered, certain that she had locked it before she went inside a few hours ago. That uneasiness hit another level when she noticed the driver’s side of her white Jeep Cherokee was slightly open. Molly paused mid-stride, nearly dropping her keys to the ground. Her head throbbed, vision blurry as the adrenaline made her tremble.

  “Christ,” she swore under her breath, jogging the last few yards toward her car. She nudged the door open with her foot, not wanting to contaminate any possible evidence.

  Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, Molly took a beat to close her eyes and wished she’d kept her cell phone in her pocket. She glanced into the lit-up interior of the car, her vision wavered into tiny streamers of black and white. The shock of it made her take an involuntary step backward, and she caught herself on her mother’s Mercedes coupe parked beside her Jeep. Thankfully Mom’s car alarm didn’t go off. She didn’t want to worry Tate, but as she took in the display on her driver’s seat, it was clear that she needed to have him take a look.

  But first I need to see it all myself.

  Numb tingling washed over her limbs. With her pulse in her throat, she leaned in closer to her car trembling at the rose petals dotting the seat, pristine carpets, and the dashboard. There was a black silk teddy-styled piece of lingerie laid out over the seat back, with an array of pictures fanned out. On a closer look at the photos, she recoiled. These were recent, of her in her bedroom. He’d been watching and waiting, lingering even more intimately over her life than she’d ever expected. She watched herself reach out for the envelope as if she was in some kind of warped nightmare. Her hands shook so much, it took her three tries to get the thick notecard out.

  As she read the words through blurry eyes, she very much wished she had left it alone or handed it over to Tate. Something. Anything other than having the words trip through her brain as she digested the cold fear curling around all her organs. Now she was suffocating. What the hell was wrong with Jett, going to this extent?

  His letter read:

  For the day you accept my apology, I expect you to be wearing this little number. Until then I’ll be waiting for you, baby.

  Always,

  Jett

  When a hand landed on her shoulder, she half-registered the weight before a frustrated scream ripped from her lips and she was attacking, blindly thrashing with her fists through hot tears. Every punch, jab, and kick was met with a block. Which only drove her higher into attack mode until she was panting, thick, hot sobs racking her body as she fought and fought for her freedom.

  “Whoa there. Settle down, little hell cat. Hey, it’s me. Tate. Calm down!”

  Tate’s voice barely registered as she lashed out. Every blow she threw met with a hard wall of male flesh until he grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him with her wrists pinned together in one hand. She wriggled in his iron grip, on autopilot, still driven by fear. Tate didn’t let her go. He didn’t budge despite her physical protests. Soon his voice broke through her haze, shushing against her ear as he rocked her back and forth in the driveway. Rocking her as if she were a small child.

  More than anything, that strange sensation knocked some sense back into her brain. Mostly because this was not like him. Tate—the asshole, the rough, no-nonsense biker—was being kind and nurturing. She needed to wake up from this dream real fast. Molly quickly shoved her arms down until his hold was broken. She took two shaky steps away until her back was on the side of her Jeep. A few deep breaths later she felt more in control.

  “You good now?” Tate asked.

  She nodded and watched him get closer, and when he examined what was inside, she got a fresh wash of goosebumps across her whole body.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Molly.” He tugged her away from the vehicle to a safe distance while he looked more closely at what was inside. She could tell he was using is bear shifter senses, sniffing around the items, probably for danger or explosives or whatever. “He must have stopped by while we were inside, because I passed right by the Jeep and this wasn’t in here.”

  She shook her head. There just weren’t any words.

  “He’s fucking brazen, that’s for sure…and you still waited until now to tell me about this crazy sicko? What the hell is wrong with you, Moll? Your pride is going to get you killed one of these days.”

  She spun around to face him, all the small hairs on the back of her neck up on end. “Okay, so maybe I waited a little longer than I should have, but I thought I could take care of it myself. I didn’t expect him to step up the crazy behavior this way. God, I really fe
lt it was getting back under control—”

  “This is control to you?” He swept his hand in a motion that encompassed the Jeep and the creepy contents. “Listen. Before we leave, we’re going back inside, and I want to you to give me everything you’ve got from this asshole. This isn’t the first time, is it?”

  Molly rolled her eyes, shoved a lock of hair behind her ear, and blew out a deep breath, crossing her arms across her middle.

  “No. Nope,” Tate shook his head and moved closer until her back was against the Jeep. He closed her in from every possible side, glancing down at her. More than anything she wanted to escape the penetration of his gaze. “You are not holding out on me, got it?”

  “Why does it even matter so much, damn it! I can’t change what happened before or how I handled it up to now. Don’t you get that?” She shoved him backward, enjoying his small grunt of surprise. “I’ll give you whatever, but you need to leave it the hell alone and move forward.”

  Tate was seething, and even in the waning evening light, she sensed his displeasure as he paced across the dark lot. A cool, insistent desert breeze whipped through her clothes. She ground her teeth together, almost snarling, willing to wait out their standoff until he was ready to take them both back to the MC.

  He didn’t disappoint when he came to an abrupt halt.

  “Fine,” he huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll clean this shit up. You get inside and grab your stash of stalker memorabilia, and bring it out here with a trash bag. Once we’re done here, we can drop off your stuff at the clubhouse before I get you to work.”

  She couldn’t argue with his instructions, mostly because it got them out of a lot of awkwardness in the process. Tate may not have realized it, but this protective thing he was doing only made her more on edge. Sure, the sex they had was always off the charts, but with Jett around doing the stalker bit, she didn’t want to get too close to anyone right now.

  “Sure. I’ll go inside. See you in a sec. Give me a beat.”