by T. S. Joyce
Jathan cupped her cheek tenderly and kissed her like this wasn’t desperation. He kissed her like he was adoring her, like he was coveting her. No. No, no, no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to work. He was stirring up warmth in her chest. Stirring up these feelings that she wanted more gentleness, but that was the last thing she needed. Lynn needed rough to sate Monster, not adoration.
She flinched away from his kiss and pulled him by the wrist out from under her dress. “I’m hungry.” And a little angry, but from his glare, he could probably tell that part.
“Get on my Harley,” he gritted out.
Lynn gave him a wicked smile. “That’s more like it. I like when you boss me around. Don’t like it when you try to make me fall for you. Remember always, love is fire. Love won’t fix me. Play with my body, but leave my heart alone.”
Lynn shoved off him and made her way to the Harley parked in front of his trailer. While she was straightening the hem of her dress, he slid a helmet over her head and startled her. Without a word, he gave her a devil-may-care smile, kicked a leg over his bike, and turned it on. The roar of it was so loud it vibrated through her chest.
What was this she was feeling when he cast her a green-eyed glance over his shoulder? Was it a trill of excitement? That seemed right. She was going to ride a motorcycle for the first time in her life. A hundred years ago, in another lifetime, she had dreamed of riding on the back of Jathan’s bike. He’d had a motorcycle during his senior year in high school, and all the girls adored the Bad Bear. While he was preparing to graduate, she had only been a shy sophomore. She’d watched him quietly. Pined for him in silence, and now here she was, at the end of her life, and she was marking off a bucket list item.
Helmet fastened, she got on behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, interlocked her fingers, and held on tight as he blasted them out of the yard. She couldn’t catch her breath as he sped under the Grayland Mobile Park sign, or even when he hit the main road that led out of Damon’s Mountains. It took her a minute to realize why—she was laughing.
Over his shoulder, Jathan said, “Lynn, don’t let go of me. Are you still with me?”
“Yeah.” Lynn held onto him tighter as they hit smooth asphalt. “I’m still here.”
Chapter Four
It was crowded at Sammy’s Bar. They weren’t even inside yet, but she could tell by the gravel parking lot completely full of cars. There wasn’t a single spot left.
Jathan had already gotten off his bike, which he’d parked right up front on the sidewalk, like he didn’t care if he got towed at all. He was on the phone. “Because I don’t have to pick up their calls, asshole. No…Jax, for fuck’s sake, your crew calls me eighty times a day. I have a life, and I’m not supposed to even have my phone up on the job site. Yeah… Yes! Look, she’s right here with me, still breathing. Lynn,” he said, turning to her, “say hi. My dickhole brother wants proof of life.”
“H-hi, Jax.”
“Lynn!” Jax yelled through the line. “Lynn, fight girl. Come back to us. We fucking miss you! Eden is going crazy, so is Greyson, so are all of us. Just…get better!”
Jathan rolled his eyes and hung up on his twin brother. “Red Havoc is a crew of stage five clingers,” he muttered, typing something into his phone.
His head was angled down as he frowned at the glowing screen. Jathan had good posture. He was a massive man, all muscles and broad shoulders and biceps the size of tree trunks that pressed against a black Harley Davidson T-shirt. Tattoos curled up his neck from his collar, and from under his short sleeves of his shirt. Down, down the ink went, all the way to his knuckles. He had even more than Jaxon did, and a very different style. Jathan’s were more artwork, bigger pieces of geometric design, as though he’d treated his skin as a canvas. His forearms flexed as he texted away on his phone, and his bottom lip poked out slightly in a look of sexy concentration. He was as tall as a damn house, six-four, and he towered over her, but he wasn’t clumsy with the extra stature. He was graceful, yet powerful. His muscular legs pressed against the material of his dark jeans, and the scuffed work boots on his feet were size gigantor. She’d felt his erection earlier and was now a firm believer in that joke about foot size and dick size. Jathan was big everywhere.
He slid her a glance, and she was relieved to find his eyes were darkened to his human color of soft brown. The look was quick and so was the curve of his lips. A fast smile, just for her. Huh. She usually made people uncomfortable. Not smiley.
“You gonna growl all night?” he asked. “I mean, it’s sexy as fuck, but you might scare the humans inside.”
Was she growling? Lynn swallowed the noise down. “There are going to be a lot of people inside.”
Jathan hit one final button on his phone and shoved it in his back pocket, straightened, and faced her in a motion that was all confidence. He lifted his chin and smiled down at her, his eyes cool. “It’ll be fine. You used to come to Sammy’s every weekend. Remember?”
“No.” Lynn frowned and tried to recall her time in Damon’s Mountains. She’d blocked a lot out after things started going wrong.
“Remember what it looks like inside?” he asked, holding out his hand to help her off the bike. His giant hand was calloused.
“Job site?” she asked.
Jathan surprised her when he kept up with her flighty train of thought. “I work with the Gray Backs now. I’m a logger.”
“You’re a lumberjack werebear,” she said with a little giggle at the end.
“I am. The job suits me. It’s hard work and wears out my animal.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her off the bike. As he removed her helmet, he explained further, “I hate the weekends. I hate the off-season.” He opened his mouth to say more, but hesitated, then frowned. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“Maybe because I’ll take your secrets to my grave in six days,” she teased.
He busied himself with hanging her helmet on the handlebars of his bike, but she’d seen the flash of anger on his face before he’d turned away.
“I hate weekends, and I hate the fire season, because it means I don’t work out the bear as much as I need to. Those days I struggle to keep him under control. I’m not telling you because you have an expiration date, Lynn, and if you say that again, I’m gonna stay pissed and ruin the night. I don’t want that, so don’t joke about leaving.”
“Dying,” she said stubbornly. “Call it what it is.”
He cast her a feral look over his shoulder and flashed his teeth in a snarl. His eyes were muddy now as he rounded on her and gripped her shoulders. “I’m telling you about my bear because you called your panther Monster, and I call my animal the same damn thing. I’m telling you because you’ll understand. I’m telling you so you get it through your thick head that you aren’t alone. No more jokes about dying. Six days. Don’t mention it again. We’re going to pretend this isn’t the end.”
“Maybe I don’t want to play that game,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You don’t have a choice.”
Jathan grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door so fast she had to jog to keep up. Oh, he was mad. She could tell from the tension in his back, pressing against the thin, black fabric of his T-Shirt. She could tell by how tight he was holding her hand, as if he didn’t care whether he ground her bones to dust. She could tell from the snarl in his chest and the scent of his fury. Fur and motorcycle oil and anger. And whatever this said about her, she didn’t care, but she thought he was sexy, all revved up and passionate like this.
The second she stepped foot inside, a hundred memories of Sammy’s bombarded her. It was all dark wood floors, dark walls, and exposed rafters. There were old, rusty street signs on the walls, tables around a dance floor, and a stage on the right side where she’d watched countless shows by the Beck Brothers. The bar was in back, and Layla, Kong’s mate, was talking to a human regular named Gus that she remembered from way back when. There were a dozen shifters
in here she recognized from Damon’s Mountains. Nothing had changed here, but everything had changed with her, and there was this sense of happiness and sadness all swirled into one overwhelming feeling inside of her chest.
Blink.
“Nope,” Jathan murmured and leaned down just as the room started going dark. “Medusa,” he whispered, and then he kissed her, but not the violent kind. It was one of those kisses where they just pressed their lips against each other and froze, connected only by a still touch. He waited a four-count, then pulled away with a soft smack, and God bless the man, he looked as confused as she felt by that kiss. But the room wasn’t dark, so there was that.
“Shots,” he muttered with a deep frown marring his dark eyebrows. “Shots and fried steak. Only the best on a date with me, Smoke Nut.”
Lynn snorted and ended the noise with a laugh. “That’s literally the worst pet name ever.”
“Fine. Only the best for my girl.” But the way he’d said my girl sounded hollow. It sounded like a lie.
He pulled her to a corner table that was occupied by two middle-aged men talking over a pitcher of beer.
“Fuck off,” Jathan growled.
And fuck off, they did. Both men glared, but they slid out of the booth, took their beer, and made their way to the bar.
“Does everyone do what you say?” she asked softly as she stared after them.
“Mostly. Not Jax, though.”
“When you said ‘my girl,’ you lied. I’m not your girl.” Lynn angled her head curiously as she watched him slide into the booth and wipe crumbs off the table with the flat of his palm. “Are you manipulating me?”
“Yep. Sit down so I can stare at your tits better. This angle is horrible for being a perv.”
Well, at least the man was honest.
Lynn slid in across from him and pulled the V of her neck down lower. Her face was hurting again, which meant she was smiling, and now Jathan was staring at her lips, not the cleavage she’d just exposed. “Perv. Eyes down here, not up here,” she said, swirling her finger at her face.
“Most girls want the opposite,” he murmured, leaning back in the booth, brushing one outstretched leg against her ankle under the table.
“Your first mistake was thinking I’m like most girls.” Whoa, where had that come from?
“Oooh! She knows how to flirt. That’s hot, Smoke Nut. I’ll be sure to stare inappropriately at your chest even when you’re talking about serious stuff then.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Serious stuff like what?”
“What is Red Havoc like?”
“Why do you want to know?”
The smile dipped from his face, and his eyes went serious. “Because my brother lives there now.”
“Do you miss him?”
Jathan clenched his teeth hard and nodded to a passing waitress. She gave him the be-right-with-you wave. He cleared his throat and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Tell him this ever, and I’ll deny it to the grave.”
“Secrets are safe with a dead person, Jathan, remember?” Yeah, she was testing him, but if she was honest, she loved the pissed-off look he got when she talked about the coming end. When she left this world, Jathan would care, and having someone feel something about her passing was loosening something in her chest she hadn’t realized had been so tight.
Jathan yanked her hand across the table and bit her wrist, almost hard enough to draw blood. It hurt. His green eyes were remorseless when he released her hand and leaned back again. Punishment administered, he admitted, “I miss my brother very much. He isn’t just a sibling. He’s a twin, and there is something special about the bond there. I hate him and I love him and I hate him and I love him on an endless loop. But I didn’t ever really think we would belong to separate crews who lived so far away.”
“But he was rogue for a long time.”
“Yeah, but he came back to the Gray Backs for a few days at a time before he wandered again. He came back to me.” Jathan shook his head. “Not anymore. He’s happy with his mate, happy with Red Havoc. Happy for the first time maybe, I don’t know. It eats at me. It’s something I’ll never find, and sometimes I get angry that he did this huge life change without me.”
“Jealous?”
“Yes,” Jathan said without a second of hesitation. “Not of him finding a mate. That’s horseshit, and we both know it. I’m jealous of him finding a way to settle his bear.”
Lynn dipped her gaze to a tattoo on his flexed triceps. It was three lines of text.
This Love
This Hate
This Pain
She wanted so badly to ask about the meaning, but he caught her eye and angled his arm away from her in an obvious shut-down. “Your turn. Tell me about my brother’s crew. Tell me about the new C-Team, as he calls it. Tell me about your life in Red Havoc.”
The waitress bustled up right as Lynn was about to deny him. Thinking about home made her sad right now, and she wanted to keep her body.
Jathan ordered them two waters, four shots of tequila, and two chicken fried steak plates. She’d never had a man order for her, and though she was independent, it felt kind of nice not having to talk to a stranger when she was already struggling to keep herself. Jathan had just taken care of it…taken care of her.
Lynn crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the booth. Interesting man…
Fine. Since he shared about his brother, she would give him happy stuff. Nothing painful so she wouldn’t slip back into the dark, so she could stay here…with him.
“I lived in the second cabin from the front. It’s tiny, and inside, I painted the logs light purple. Ben got so mad when he saw what I’d done, but purple is my favorite color, and I always wanted to live in purple rooms.”
Jathan leaned forward again, a slight smile on his lips as if he was enjoying story time. “Did you piss your alpha off a lot?”
“Every chance I got. Why do you look surprised?”
“Because when you lived here, you were a goody-goody. You wouldn’t even sneak out with us.”
“Yeah, well I was trying to get myself adopted.” Lynn frowned at herself. Where had that come from? Usually when she thought of hard stuff, the disappeared.
“I remember. It took three years, but it happened. The day you and your parents went to court to sign those final papers and make it official? The Gray Backs celebrated.”
“They did?”
“Yeah. We had this huge barbecue. We invited you, but your parents said they wanted to do a private celebration, just the three of you. We understood…” He gave her a devilish grin, “But we used it as an excuse to party anyway. My mom made this bigass sign in rainbow letters that said Congrats on not being an orphan anymore.’” Jathan laughed to himself and rolled his eyes. “It was hideous. You would’ve hated it.”
“No,” she murmured, “I would’ve loved that.”
“It’s probably still in the storage trailer. I can find it if you want.”
The waitress set down their waters and shots. Jathan handed her one and then lifted one of his own. “To rebellious purple walls. Fight everything.” He tinked his tiny glass against hers, and they both touched the bottoms to the table, then tossed back the shot.
God, how long had it been since she had done this? Her throat burned as the liquor worked its way down. The long sound of a single guitar note rang out and then wrenched up an octave as someone tuned it. Up on stage, Denison and Brighton Beck of the Ashe Crew were getting ready to perform.
“Did you know the Beck Brothers were playing tonight?” she asked.
“Yep. Told you. Only the best for my girl.” My girl didn’t sound quiet as false now, and that confused her.
“More,” he demanded, handing her another shot.
“More tequila?”
“No, more Red Havoc. And tequila. Your turn to toast now, Smoke Nut.”
She giggled and lifted the shot. “To the worst pet name in the world.”
&
nbsp; “Here, here.”
Together they slammed the shots, and then Jathan pushed her water toward her. “Rehydrate between every two shots so you don’t get sick tonight.”
Huh. That was surprisingly sweet of him to care about her night like that. Most boys would’ve gone hard at getting her drunk.
As if he could read her mind, he stopped sipping his own water and said, “I don’t need you drunk to fuck you, Lynn. You’ll say yes either way. You’ll beg, and I’ll consider it, but only if you aren’t drunk.” He flicked his fingers at her glass. “Water.”
She glared at him, unsure of how to respond. She’d never liked men telling her what to do in general, but when Jathan did it, he was so sure she would listen, and that confidence was sexy. In a way, she wanted to listen to him. She wanted to please him. He didn’t have to know that though. “Bossy,” she accused.
“And a big reason I’m not made to pair up with a woman. I like tough girls, but who would put up with my shit? Hmm?”
Uh, a lot of women, because he was hot-as-sin, well-spoken, had a steady job, had a house, paid his own bills, loved his family, would probably be alpha of a crew someday, and when he was bossy, he was bossy with good intentions. He was brutally honest. And he rode a Harley. Did she mention the hot-as-sin part? She wasn’t really seeing a downside to Jathan Barns.
“I think for the next six days, maybe I need a boss.”
“Mmm,” he practically purred as he angled his head back and looked down at her. “I like when your voice goes all sexy like that. You like being bossed, Lynn? We can play that game. It’s my favorite kind.”
She sipped her water again to stall until she knew her voice wouldn’t come out a horny squeak when she spoke. After clearing her throat delicately, she said, “I don’t think I would like it if anyone else bossed me right now. Not my alpha in Red Havoc, not any man. But it feels different with you. Maybe I could use some games this week.” Especially from a hot boy who knew his way around women, a man who wouldn’t get attached to a girl like her.
Jathan was safe. Safe, safe, safe. Only a Bad Bear would do for the kind of distraction she needed this week.
