Hammering Henry [Alpha Wreckers 2] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Fel Fern

  “Because I don’t want to be the butt of the town’s joke. You know how fast word travels around here,” he mumbled.

  “You’re lucky your fall hadn’t been that serious and you haven’t broken anything,” Wren began.

  “My back hurts, but I’ll heal,” he said.

  Wren glared at him. “You idiot. What exactly were you thinking? Couldn’t you lie on the bed, any other furniture but that stupid desk? God. It makes me so mad, especially knowing how clueless Dale and you are, especially when it comes to assembling furniture.”

  “I was…” He hesitated.

  He did owe Wren an explanation and they always shared everything. With a heavy sigh, he began to explain. Wren held no judgment in his eyes, merely listened. That was the amazing thing about Wren. Wren might be about his age, in his mid-twenties, but Wren sometimes acted the older brother, even with Dale. Then again, he admired the other man, for braving through the devastating blow of losing his first mate and finding the courage to love another.

  “I see. I need to have a word with Spencer. Stupid bear,” Wren finally said.

  Henry gaped at Wren, who was usually the rational one. “Hold on a second. Spencer has nothing to do with me falling.”

  “Of course he did. Brushing you off like that, he must have done a number on you.”

  “No, I mean, he did, but he wasn’t mean or anything like that. Heck, I’ve thought about the situation a lot. From what you’ve told me, Spencer is not as sociable as his brothers. Maybe the others only dragged him there when what he wanted was some peace and quiet.”

  “Defending the guy who refused you, seriously?” Wren demanded.

  “It’s just…he did apologize. I told him I understood he didn’t do dates, but I was fine with a one-night stand. In hindsight, maybe I came on too strong.”

  Wren blinked. “You really told him that outright that all you wanted was a hook-up?”

  He avoided his best friend’s inquisitive gaze. “Well, yeah. Now I realize I may come across as a dick.”

  “Don’t think about it too much anymore. Focus on getting better.” Wren patted his arm, and he recognized that determined look in Wren’s eyes. He groaned, but Wren continued, “Let me handle this.”

  Chapter Two

  “Let me handle this, my ass,” Henry grumbled.

  He cut the engine of his worn-down but perfectly serviceable black Chevy in front of, well, in the middle of nowhere. Henry checked the GPS on his phone again, but these were the directions Wren gave him. He’d never driven out here. After steering his car from the main road, he had come across a dirt path and followed it all the way to a clearing. What he’d stopped at was some kind of clearing facing a cabin.

  Swallowing, he got out, nervous as hell. Henry had gotten discharged from the hospital three days ago, when Wren had told him Spencer wanted to donate a desk. Henry knew while Spencer was one of the four owners of Alpha Wreckers Inc., the bear shifter was also well-known around town for making customized furniture that didn’t exactly come cheap.

  Henry understood why. He’d seen a brochure once and marveled at the wonderful craftsmanship, admiring the fact such a large, scary shifter like Spencer could make something so beautiful. Seeing the work in person, though, did the brochure pictures poor justice.

  There were piles of wood peeking from a shed beside the cabin, and a few wooden furniture pieces around the yard. Curious now, he approached what looked like an impressive wardrobe made of cherry wood, still unpolished, but even an amateur like him could admire the handiwork.

  Then a growl pierced through the clearing, an animal noise made by a human throat, and his entire body froze up. Fear crept down his spine. Someone appeared from the pile of wood, someone big, scary, with flaming red hair and wielding a gigantic-looking saw.

  Instead of his usual dark green eyes, the werebear’s pupils were a dangerous shade of yellow. He’d read somewhere that meant a shifter’s animal was close to the surface. Henry gulped. He should have been petrified, made up an excuse and run away like the big coward he was, except Spencer was also…shirtless.

  Desire replaced fear. Hard planes of muscle layered Spencer’s upper half. Sweat gleamed under the sun and Henry dared to lift his gaze, meeting the eyes of one terrifying, pissed-off werebear.

  “Can’t you read?” Spencer demanded, pointing his saw to the sign Henry had nearly missed.

  “Trespassers will be eaten,” he read, paling. “Um. It’s Henry, Wren’s best friend?”

  “I know. I thought I told Wren I’d deliver your desk to your place?”

  Well, that was news to him. How sad was it that he was pleased Spencer knew him? Still, what kind of a reaction was that?

  “You don’t have to be all growly and mean,” he stated, refusing to back down.

  Henry had done his research about shifters when he’d realized he badly wanted to try dating one. When it came to playing games with dominant predators like Spencer, he should stand his ground if he didn’t want to be dismissed as harmless prey.

  “This is my private workplace. Even my brothers seldom interrupt me.”

  Should he apologize? Henry got annoyed too while he was in the coding zone, when Dale came over, unannounced to interrupt his work mojo. “Even so, you shouldn’t growl at people. What if I’m some lost tourist, who needs directions?”

  Spencer glowered at him. “I don’t usually want to bite strangers.”

  “W-what the hell does that even mean?”

  Spencer said nothing.

  “I’m sorry. We got off the wrong foot, but since I’m here, can I see my new desk?”

  “No.” A firm reply. “It’s not done.”

  “But I drove all the way here, to the middle of nowhere.”

  “Anyone ever told you, little human, that you’re too damn noisy?”

  “What the hell?” he fisted his hands by his side. “You pride yourself on being such an antisocial asshole?”

  “Better than someone who nearly broke his back, masturbating against a crappy desk.”

  He flushed. Oh God. He was going to kill Wren.

  “Wren told you?” he whispered. “Well, it’s part of my job.”

  Spencer lowered the saw at least. “What? Phone sex or something?”

  “No,” he blurted. He was certain Wren wouldn’t mention he’d masturbated while thinking of Spencer. His best friend wouldn’t betray his trust like that, right? “I’m a freelance mobile app developer, and I’m currently making a dating sim. So I need inspiration.”

  Spencer stared at him for a couple seconds. “I have no fucking clue what any of those words meant.”

  It was beginning to become clear to Henry that they came from entirely two different worlds. “Anyway, if you don’t want me here, I get it. I must be inconveniencing you and all, and you already brushed me off before.”

  He began to walk away, but paused when Spencer spoke again. This must be the most number of words they’d ever traded.

  “That was for your own good, little human.” A deadly quiet voice but he heard the words clear as day.

  He spun, eyes wide. Hope flared in his chest, fragile, easily breakable, but still, he dared. “Not because I’m ugly, geeky, or anything like that?”

  Spencer didn’t answer him instantly. “This desk is important to you?”

  “I do all my work at home. Used to type on my kitchen counter but decided a desk in the living room, near the window, would be more productive.”

  Spencer scowled. “Then why bother with DIY furniture? That shit doesn’t last.”

  “I-I’m on a budget. I mean, I saw your brochure before, fell in love with some of the pieces, but they were out of my range.”

  “You saw some of my work?”

  “Yes,” he admitted. Hell, Henry had done his research, annoyed Wren with questions before being brave enough to approach Spencer at that bar.

  “Come.”

  One monosyllabic response and yet he followed the big werebear. Glimpsing
Spencer’s broad, muscled back, he gasped, because he didn’t expect the old, rough crisscross of scars there. These looked years old, and done by no human made torture device. Claws, he realized.

  Running up to Spencer, he laid a hand over the square of Spencer’s back, cringing when Spencer roared and, in seconds, gripped his wrist in one large and callused hand. Fear hammered at him. His pulse raced. Memories of violence rippled through the mental shield he’d built over the years. As if Spencer tasted his fear, he reluctantly let go.

  No, he realized. Spencer was different from Brad. Those scars on Spencer’s back might be years old, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the scars left within still hurt.

  “Rule number one,” Spencer stated. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Your back—” he began.

  “Rule number two,” Spencer interrupted him again. “No personal questions.”

  Henry swallowed as those intense yellow eyes bore down on him. “We have rules now?”

  At least Spencer hadn’t bitten him or, worse, asked him to leave. Any normal human with some sense would flee the moment one massive angry werebear appeared, but he wasn’t normal. Hell, those scars intrigued him, added a layer of complexity to the man he was interested in getting to know.

  “Do you always talk this much?”

  “Only when I’m nervous.”

  “I make you nervous?”

  “Well, yeah. You’re big and a werebear.”

  “I’ll never hurt you, not in a million years, little human.”

  Okay. Wow. Where did that proclamation came from?

  They didn’t go inside the cabin. Part of Henry was disappointed, but Spencer made it clear he didn’t welcome visitors. They walked along the cabin side instead.

  “Do you live out here?” he asked.

  “Yes, I prefer solitude.”

  “Doesn’t it get all lonely?” Henry knew the big werebear didn’t like talking, but this might be the only chance he had to ask questions, get to know the reclusive Mercer brother a little more.

  He thought Spencer wouldn’t answer, but he did. “Working with wood balances my bear and human half.”

  They reached the back of the cabin, a clearing which Spencer seemed to have converted into his main work space. Henry’s eye instantly caught the simple but elegant industrial-style work desk. One slab of heavy wood, mounted on two steel legs, the surface still rough, but it was the kind of desk he imagined having at home but could never afford. Also, the piece of furniture looked so solid, he doubted it would be as flimsy as the DIY desk he’d bought.

  “Oh, Spencer. This looks awesome. Is this really for me? Can I touch?”

  Spencer grunted. “It’s not done yet. What are you getting all excited about?”

  Ignoring the grumpy werebear, he approached the desk, looking at it from all angles. “I can already imagine where I’ll put this, near my living window, where there’ll be plenty of light. Like I said, I work at home, so this will definitely get plenty of use, just you wait.”

  “Are you talking about working with those app things or masturbation?”

  Stunned, he looked at Spencer, but Spencer didn’t seem like he was mocking him. Did the werebear actually crack a joke, at him?

  “Excuse me. It’s mobile apps, as in the applications you see on your phone?”

  Spencer fished out a cell phone which looked like it had been invented in the late nineties. It even had a keypad. “This?”

  Henry took out his own iPhone.

  Spencer scowled. “Cole and the others keep bugging me to get one of those new phones, but what’s the point? If I can text and call that’s enough.”

  Exasperated, he tucked his phone back in his pocket. “You seriously take this whole holing-up-in-the-woods recluse seriously, don’t you?”

  Spencer snarled, making him jump, but he refused to back down. He wasn’t afraid of this dominant werebear. Well, maybe a little, but Spencer hadn’t tossed his sorry ass out either and had even showed him his desk. Henry had a feeling Spencer didn’t allow those kinds of privileges to anyone.

  “It’s safer for everyone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you keep getting close to me, you’ll eventually end up being hurt.”

  He swallowed. That definitely sounded like a warning, except Spencer had opened up a little to him. Heck, Spencer had even joked, flirted with him—or was all that in his delusional mind?

  Chapter Three

  Fuck, but the human’s enticing scent drove his bear insane with lust bit by bit. The wise choice was to nudge Henry out of his workplace, but part of Spencer didn’t want Henry to leave, not if he wanted a taste. No, he wanted to bite into the human’s tasty little parts, and it didn’t help Henry was clearly interested in him, scars and all.

  Spencer’s brothers and Isiah were the only people who understood how he’d gotten those scars, and yet when Henry had pulled back, his eyes hadn’t been full of pity. They’d established some kind of connection, and his bear sensed that beneath that smiling, talkative cute exterior, Henry harbored deep secrets.

  That didn’t bode well for Spencer, because people who got close to him often got hurt. Oh, he remembered Henry’s scent all right. Ever since Henry had approached him all those nights ago and he’d refused, he could think of no one else but the brave little blond human with the earnest hazel eyes that hid a scarred soul underneath.

  All he wanted had been to give Henry the wildest ride of his life and go their separate ways the next day. When Spencer’s bear did seek out the need to fuck, he always made the rules clear with his prize. No games, no commitments, just sex. Spencer always got by with that rule, but he’d said no to Henry, because the human clearly deserved better than a broken shifter.

  Daryl had been his mate, even though as a kid, he hadn’t known what mating meant. Daryl had died, making it too late for him to find out. Sorrow still occupied the space in his heart where Daryl had resided. Spencer had accepted his fate, until his brother Cole had mated Wren. Wren had been previously mated, but then, Wren’s first mate had died. Up until that point, Spencer hadn’t realized shifters might have a second chance at love, too, but it wasn’t for him.

  “Um, Spencer?” Henry ventured, and he realized he’d let the human talk without saying a word.

  Spencer stirred from his thoughts. He liked the sound of Henry’s voice. Despite telling Henry he disliked talking, he found Henry’s presence comforting.

  “What?” he finally asked.

  “I asked why would I get hurt when you said a moment ago you’ll never harm me.” Henry’s stubborn, little, pointed chin and those tempting lips were so hard to resist. It would be all too easy for Spencer to jerk Henry close, claim those lips, until the little human had to go home with a kiss-swollen mouth. His.

  Spencer wrenched himself away from those dangerous thoughts.

  “I don’t mean physically,” he replied.

  “I’m a big boy, Spencer. I can take care of myself just fine.”

  “You nearly put your life in jeopardy, when you decided to masturbate on an unstable piece of crap furniture.”

  Henry’s entire face turned red. “Can you, like, not bring that up all the time?”

  He frowned. “Masturbation is a perfectly healthy habit.”

  Henry looked like a human tomato.

  “What I mean to say—” Spencer said, trying again. He wondered why he was making so much of an effort. Although he was a title owner of Alpha Wreckers Inc., he let his brothers run the show, meet up with potential clients because he preferred being in the background. Interactions weren’t exactly his forte, so why was he trying to win this little human over? “—is that it seems you aren’t taking care of yourself all that well if you’re prone to accidents.”

  “That was just one accident.” Henry let out a huff. “I don’t go giving myself a hand job on every piece of furniture, you know?”

  Because Spencer had a feeling this would only continue to another argument,
and he’d go on torturing himself about whether or not to pursue this human or leave Henry be, he took a different course of action. He fisted Henry’s shirt and dragged the little human close, until their chests touched.

  Henry’s breathing changed, but the human didn’t exactly protest.

  “What are you doing?” Henry whispered, looking up at him.

  Spencer tipped Henry’s chin, grazing his thumb over the unshaven bits of stubble on Henry’s jaw.

  “I t-thought you didn’t want me,” Henry whispered.

  “You deserve better than one broken werebear.”

  “You’re not broken. If that’s true, then so am I. We’ll make quite a pair.”

  Brave little human. He chuckled. No one had held his interest in a long time. Spencer could remember the first time he’d met the delightful little human. It had been in Henry’s apartment, which Wren had been using to make his cakes for his online business.

  Cole had asked him for his help to deliver twelve rush-order cakes. The first time he’d laid his eyes on the tired little human, covered in flour and chocolate frosting, it had felt like a sledgehammer smashed into him. Back then, Spencer hadn’t understood his reaction, why his bear, usually uninterested in anything else, had grown curious about Henry.

  “I don’t date, do relationships,” he stated point-blank. Hurt briefly appeared on Henry’s face but quickly melted away to defiance.

  “Good,” Henry stated. “Me either. After my last fuck-up of a relationship, a no-strings-attached arrangement works for me.”

  “We understand each other perfectly then?”

  “Crystal clear, grumpy bear.”

  Smirking, Spencer took his first taste of heaven. He wasn’t disappointed at all. No longer restraining himself, he took Henry’s lips, all heat and bite. Spencer placed a hand over his left pectoral, right over his beating heart, nails digging down. Oh, he liked that. Could Henry possibly be a secret little wild cat underneath his nervous exterior?

  When he’d told Henry to leave his property, Henry had all but smelled of fear, but that fear seemed to have disappeared altogether.