Men Love Curves: BBW Romance
Page 31
If she did reveal herself, would her mate find her attractive? Her hair was dark, almost an inky black. No matter how many times they dyed their hair another color, after one or two washes it always went back to its original color. They’d grown their hair long and taken to disguising themselves with different hairstyles, not different hair colors. And always avoided going out together.
Not that they were spectacular to look at, the opposite being closer to the truth. They were average. Chunky, as she liked to call herself. Of course, she thought Abigail was beautiful, but didn’t see it in herself. They shared the same eye color, a bright blue that darkened as their cats neared the surface. Or were overcome with emotion. Like passion. Emma had yet to see that. She’d never had a passionate moment in her life.
If you didn’t count the kiss she’d shared with Bobby Gentry outside the gym her freshman year in high school. Just a few short years before her life had been turned on its ear and back again.
Stepping into the shower, she relished what little warmth there was. Heck, she should be grateful they even had running water. Between the old plumbing and the landlord’s habit of not paying the water bill on time, sometimes having water was iffy. Sometimes, they went days without electricity. If they stayed in Atlanta through the winter they would have to find another apartment.
Or, maybe you could go be with your mate? her cat commented.
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Emma murmured. Like a fairy-tale compared to the nightmare their life was at the moment. She rinsed the shampoo from her hair and applied conditioner. Her hair hung long and straight to just below her shoulders. Just like Abby’s. She could remember the time when the sisters could wear their hair any way they wanted, instead of having to mirroring each other so no one would know there were two of them.
How the hell had her life turned out this way?
Because you’re different, Emma Sorenson. So very different.
Wringing the water from her hair, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her torso. The material barely met over the expanse of her chest. Her breasts were big and round and drew more than one male glance. She’d learned to dislike anything that brought attention to herself. And her breasts did that. Despite the chunkiness of her figure, men found her proportions attractive. Probably because she was heavy on top and the bottom. Not quite an hourglass, but at least she had a shape. Of course, the men who she usually attracted were only out to use her. Same as the one she was running from.
Drying off quickly, she tossed the damp towel on the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans and the oversized t-shirt that Abby had worn yesterday. Just once, she wanted to wear clothing that her sister hadn’t worn before. She wanted to wear a shirt or dress that was hers and hers alone.
Going into the kitchen, she poured herself a tall glass of sweet tea, the one luxury the sisters allowed themselves. Well, besides the weekly quart of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. She grabbed a book from the tiny built-in bookcase with the sagging shelves and plunked down on the equally sagging sofa that had come with the apartment. A thorough cleaning and fumigation had made it usable. She sat down her glass of ice tea, determined to lose herself in the romantic fiction until her sister came home—and the shit hit the fan.
She knew it wouldn’t take her sister long to figure out why the Blackwoods had finally been able to track them—her—down after all this time.
~*~
“Tell me what you did, Emma?”
Emma knew that look on Abigail’s face. She was angry. Really, really angry. And Abigail didn’t get angry very often. In the past, she’d only gotten angry when a schoolyard bully had teased Emma or another shifter had decided they could kick Emma around. Or when Emma managed to screw-up. Or at least that’s what it always felt like. But not this time. Emma had done what needed to be done and her sister had found her mates. More precisely, her mates had found her. There was no reason why both of the sisters had to be on the run. She’d decided to take fate into her own hands. Now she had to make her sister see reason.
“Since the two bears weren’t ever going to find you on their own, I kind of left your scent where other members of the family might find it.”
“You what?” Oh, yeah, Abigail was angry. Her eyes flashed blue and gold, signaling her cat was rising to the surface.
“I laid a trail for the Blackwoods to find.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It was just a matter of time which one found you first.”
“Or which nutcase working for the Panthera found us first. Emma, how could you?” Abigail clenched her hands at her sides and drew a deep breath. Emma knew she was striving for control, but Emma wasn’t sorry for what she’d done. It was time to end this.
Abigail worked in a diner and Emma worked nights at a bar. Both were places the brothers wouldn’t usually frequent. For one thing, they were too good-looking to go trolling for women in a dive bar and they were too rich to need to eat at a diner. Hence, why Emma had to help. Abigail had always been so careful to disguise her scent when they’d left the construction site. She’d bet good money the bears hadn’t been able to follow it past the highway that ran along the backside of the site.
If they had, they would have found her a lot sooner.
Emma had done a little more research on the Blackwood family and discovered they had a married sister and parents living close by. She wasn’t certain all the members of the family knew Abby’s scent, but she’d taken a chance.
A chance that had apparently paid off.
“Why?” Abigail stopped her pacing and flopped down in the beat-up old chair. The last tenant had left their furniture and the girls had scrubbed and disinfected everything as best they could. Thank goodness as shifters they didn’t catch human disease. And truth be told, the lumpy mattress was better than some of the things they’d had to sleep on while on the run.
“Because, they need to find you, Abby.”
Abigail immediately shook her head. “No, they don’t. They can’t.”
“They can protect you. You can have a life.”
Abigail straightened her back rigid with indignation. “And leave you on the run? Helpless?”
“I won’t be helpless, Abby. I’ll still have Dad.” Well, for a little while she’d have her father. As soon as possible, she was getting him out of this fix as well. If they hadn’t lost him already.
Emma walked into the kitchenette at the back of the room to pour herself some more tea. It housed a small fridge and very little counter space. It had two cabinets on top and two on the bottom. There wasn’t a stove. They’d found beat up toaster oven at a second store so they could have something hot to eat.
Emma looked down at her stomach, sucking it in. Then let her breath out slowly. You’d think with the way they had to eat—hit-and-miss—she would have lost weight. And Abigail, too. Both sisters were what the world referred to as full-figured. Or plump. Despite their shifter genetics. The extra poundage came in handy in cat form though. She smiled, thinking back to the night the jackals had attacked the security guard at the construction site. The expression on the men’s faces when two large, angry looking jaguars came at them from the dark had been priceless. She had no doubt they’d been intending more serious harm to the guard and the brothers’ property before the girls had run them off.
“I’m not helpless, Abigail. I’m a cat shifter. A jaguar. There are very few shifters out there who could take me.” Besides her inbred instincts for survival in cat form, the girls had learned to fight, taking free lessons in whatever city they were in. Their father had made sure they could protect themselves at all costs.
“That’s not true, Emma, and we both know it. If the Panthera’s henchmen catch us, we’re either going to die trying to get away or we’re not going to get away.”
Both girls were silent for a moment. They knew it would be better to die trying. What the perverted, evil old shifter had planned for them would be a fate worse than death.
But fate, h
ad intervened, Emma thought. It had sent Abigail two mates. More than enough to protect her. “Even he isn’t stupid enough to go after the mate of two full grown grizzlies.”
Abigail blew the hair out of her eyes. “You know there is no way in hell I’m leaving you on your own, so let’s just drop the subject, alright?”
Emma studied her sister and knew the time for talking was over. Once Abigail made up her mind, it took an act of God for her to change it. “Did anyone ever tell you, you’re one stubborn bitch?”
Abigail flipped her sister off and closed her eyes.
Deciding she’d better save the tea for later, Emma sat back down on the couch and closed her eyes, following her sister’s example. She moved her butt until the spring didn’t cut into her ass.
Both women deserved a short nap.
~*~
That night, Ryland found himself on his parents’ doorstep, reluctant to intrude, but needing his father’s guidance. His relationship with his twin was too important to ignore what he was feeling. His mother was in the kitchen cooking. After Ryland had confessed the cat scent they’d found mixed with the jackals, was indeed their mate, she’d insisted on fixing him something to eat. His mother thought food could fix everything and usually it did go a long way to clear one’s thinking. He didn’t know if it would help in this situation.
He sighed and leaned his head back against the high leather back of the new recliner. During his childhood only one leather chair was allowed in the den. Just a couple of months ago, his mother had decided she wanted one of her own. It felt damn good, he had to admit. Much better than the leather sofa the boys were usually forced to share. Not that he’d continued to sit in the chair once his mother came into the room. The Blackwood brothers knew their place in the family hierarchy, no matter how alpha they might be outside the family walls. Their mother and her comforts came first. Except to those of a mate. That line of thinking brought him back to the conversation he’d started with his father.
Bruce Blackwood studied his youngest son and realized the last of his children was grown, no longer needing his advice, but seeking it nevertheless. To him, that was the sign of a mature bear. Willing to do whatever it took to make a mate happy.
He was still reeling a little with the news the cat scent they’d discovered this past summer was in fact, Ryland and Ryker’s mate. The family had known from the start that a female cat of some sort had been on the construction site. They had first assumed that whoever she was, she’d been in league with the jackals determined to bring down Blackwood Brothers Construction.
Bruce’s hackles still rose when he thought of the damage the mangy animal could have done. Even though he hadn’t been active in the day-to-day running for years, he still considered Blackwood Construction, now named Blackwood Brothers Construction, his baby. He’d started it when his eldest daughter had been born. All his children owned a part of the business, but the twins and Quinn were the heart of it.
“What makes you think you can’t share a mate with Ryker?”
“Because I want to tear his fucking head off every time I think of him being around her.”
“Really?”
Ryland heard the hint of doubt in his father’s voice. He smiled to himself as his father tried to find a more comfortable place on the matching recliner. His mother had not only bought herself a leather recliner, she’d replaced the one his father had used for over twenty years. He knew what was wrong. The new chair was harder and firmer than the previous recliner and didn’t conform to the older bear’s butt yet.
“I don’t remember Joe and Paul having any trouble with their mate. In fact, I think they enjoy sharing a mate.” The smile that curved his lips was lavicious, suggesting he’d heard some interesting stories.
Joe and Paul were his father’s twin uncles, Ryker and Ryland’s great-uncles. They were also complete opposites in personality, just like Ryker and Ryland. One assumed that anyway. Ryland had always known Ryker had a darker soul and he’d tried to help his brother when that darkness rose inside. The time after Ryker had left the military had been the hardest on the family. Ryker had come back to them a changed man. It was the first time Ryland had felt any disconnect with his twin.
Now Ryland felt that darkness within himself. A darkness that threatened to rise up and choke him. At times, he felt something different in the bond that they shared as well. He’d thought it was simply the transition going from being a twin and to being a mate. But that didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t they grow closer through sharing a mate?
Damn it, he was so confused. So torn.
Bruce scratched his chin, watching his son, seeing the inner struggle etched on his face. Maybe it was time to make a call to the Council and see if they knew anything about the pretty little kitten that had his boys tied up in knots.
Then he’d give his uncles a call and see if they could contact the boys and offer a little reassurance.
“Could you please hurry your ass up?”
Ryland snorted as he pulled a dark colored shirt over his head and looked at his brother standing in the doorway. He was dressed in jeans and a dark t-shirt as well. Yep, they were fucking dressed alike—again. What was Ryland supposed to do? He couldn’t very well turn up in a suit and tie—not that he would ever, ever wear one—in a bar on a Friday night. But hell, did they have to look so damn alike?
He eyed the bottle of cologne some woman had given him in the past. She hadn’t known, or hadn’t cared, that shifters never wore scents, many even preferring unscented soaps and shampoos. But if he put some on, then their mate would definitely be able to tell them apart.
“If you wear that shit, you’re walking.” His brother growled out the warning before walking away.
And that’s why they were in this hellish situation. They knew each other’s thoughts, feelings. They were like fucking open books to each other sometimes. So why wouldn’t fate give them the same mate? If someone was made especially for one of them, and they were so damned alike, didn’t it make sense they’d both need her?
He tucked the shirt into the waist of his jeans and pulled up the zipper. In minutes, he had on shoes and socks. Hurrying out of the bedroom, he found Ryker on his leather couch silently flipping through the cable channels. “Alright, bro. Let’s go find our mate.”
Mate. His bear paced with expectation and he felt Ryker’s doing the same.
When asked where they lived, the twins usually said Atlanta, even though they actually lived in the township of Pine Woods right outside the metropolis. It was a beautiful wooded area with lots of space to run and they were readily accepted by the humans who lived there.
Each Blackwood brother had a piece of land they could call their own. Something that made their bears happy. Ryker and Quinn had built homes a couple of years ago. Ryland still lived in town. He’d bought an old warehouse and converted it into apartments. His brother had lived in one until he’d built his house. He’d never known what had driven his brothers to build their house. Until now.
They’d been preparing for their mates.
Ryland and Ryker had shared an apartment for years, even though his brother was into some, um, lifestyle habits that weren’t usually compatible with the women Ryland dated. Well, not all the women. He remembered the one blond they’d kept tied to their bed for an entire weekend.
Would they share their mate just as easily?
Ryland hadn’t known exactly what he’d feel when he discovered his mate, but it hadn’t been this. The feeling that the woman belonged more to Ryker, his twin, than she did to him.
~*~
Ryker pulled into the parking lot of the bar not far from the diner where Abigail worked during the day. His protective instincts rose to the forefront thinking of her serving drinks to horny males. He had never thought much about finding his mate. He figured he would never have one. There was too much darkness inside him. He didn’t know where it came from but it had always been a part of him. Mayb
e just a circumstance of birth. The good twin, bad twin kind of thing.
Shit. He was trying to think of everything except the fact that he was going to see his mate for the first time tonight. He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see his fucking hand tremble. He was a loner. He didn’t make friends or influence people, except maybe with his sheer size.
When he wanted something, he took it. Like sex. He bedded women who knew the score and didn’t want anything more than a night with a bear shifter. Some hard, rough loving. A little kink. Total opposite of Ryland in the sack. Ryland liked to play with his fucks. Wining and dining them. Socializing. Ryker shuddered. He hated that word. That concept.
Maybe that’s why fate had decided the twins needed to share a mate. Because Ryker knew, he couldn’t give a woman what she really wanted. What she needed. Tenderness. Concern. Even now, his bear was urging him to find the woman and carry her off to his house in the woods and never let her out. Damn, did he sound like some sociopath or what?
Get your shit together, Ryker commanded himself as he parked the big king-sized cab truck and got out. Music blasted into the air every time the front door of the bar opened. He winced, knowing that would destroy his hearing.
Looking over at his brother, he saw a taut expression that mirrored his own. “You ready to do this?”
Ryland frowned back at him. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He took a deep breath, trying to pick up the scent. He knew Ryland was doing the same. The cat’s scent had played havoc with them for over two months. One day it was strong, one day faint. The brothers had spent almost every night driving through the city, hoping their bears would recognize their mate. The scent of orange blossoms drifted his way.
“Can you smell that?” He took in a lungful of the luscious scent.
“Yeah.” Ryland nodded his head, hesitating for only a moment. The scent of their mate was strong tonight. Usually, one or the other felt the pull more. Tonight, they seemed equally drawn to the sweet smell.