Arrogant dick would probably laugh at her.
When they reached her apartment, Brooke shouldered her way out of Carlo’s arms to open the door, but paused when he called her name. Carlo, Lucas, and Simon stood in a row, unharmed and safe.
“Thank you, Brooke,” Lucas said, all signs of attitude gone from his features. He looked softer this way, kinder, and closer to his age. She felt a pang of regret that he, that all their pack, had been forced to mature so quickly. He scuffed his boot uncomfortably as he continued, “For standing up for us. Just - thanks.” The other two nodded quickly and Brooke felt a swell of pride in her chest. They were good kids. She stepped forward, pulling each of them in by the back of their neck to rest her forehead against each of theirs. If they were still in wolf form, she would have rubbed up against them, but shifting caused her way too much pain right now.
“That’s what I’m here for,” she said quietly.
“Are you going to be okay?” Simon asked in a small voice.
Her arm felt like it was going to fall off but she managed a small smile.
“I’ll be fine; I’ll just sleep it off. Now, I don’t want to hear any more stories of you drifting into bear territory. As far as I’m aware, the matter is closed, you hear?”
“But what if they kick us out of neutral territory again?”
“Then I’ll have to give Connor Strauss’ ass another kicking.””
She collapsed into bed almost immediately, not caring about the blood she knew she’d get on the sheets, but it still took her hours to fall asleep.
Brooke didn’t want an all-out war with the bears, but it was becoming more tempting. Her pack had spent so long trying to find a place to belong, and they all deserved a safe place to call home. Brooke couldn’t be prouder of her pack, which had almost tripled in size over her four years of being alpha. The pack numbered around twenty now, with cubs that needed medicine and education. They needed to hunt. Brooke had thought that, finally, they’d found a home in Colorado, but here they were again, being driven closer and closer to the borders by a group of shifters with enough money and power to wipe them out completely.
She thought of Connor, swaggering through the door of Cole Couture with that knowing smirk on his face, and she sighed.
Connor Strauss was a good man. She didn’t want to admit it, wanted to focus on hating him, but she couldn’t ignore it. It was her wolves that had provoked the bears, and it was her fault for charging up there without thinking. She knew his brothers were mated, knew that they had cubs. He was protecting his sleuth. It’s exactly what she would have done.
But that didn’t make the situation right. Brooke was hot-headed, she knew that, and yeah, it had driven her to make a few decisions that she regretted, but all this territory warfare bullshit was driving her to desperation. Her top priority was - and always would be - her pack. Connor didn’t realise that he had everything, everything that she wanted, that her pack needed, and he wasn’t willing to share any of it. Bitterness clawed up her throat.
Would she even be able to keep up the banter anymore? She knew who he was, had always known, but he knew nothing about her. She was just the shop girl he liked to flirt with, and now she didn’t know if she could even be that.
The small bottle on her bedside glinted in the light and Brooke lifted her arm to grab at it, dabbing the scent suppressant behind her ears and on the skin at her wrists. She breathed the soothing, neutral scent and closed her eyes.
She dabbed herself again the next morning, a little paranoid. The idea of what would happen if Connor smelled wolf on her made her shudder.
She got into work early and spent the morning watching and waiting for Connor to stop by. Every time the bell above the door dinged Brooke would look up, heart in her throat, and every time she had to school her expression back to a pleasant smile when she met the eyes of a customer instead.
Well whatever, she thought. This is a good thing. It doesn’t matter how attractive he is - he’s a bear and he’s an asshole. And that would be that except for the small voice at the back of her head whispering but he’s not.
Brooke grew more and more restless as the day wore on. By the time lunch rolled around, she was buzzing with adrenaline and anger. Brooke slipped into an empty booth in the dining hall with a bowl of Cody’s famous pasta. She wasn’t all that hungry, but the food was a delicious distraction so she ate it slowly. Her shoulder was still throbbing. She definitely should have treated it before she’d gone to bed.
Then she heard a laugh. She looked up and there he was, talking to one of the servers, that damn cocky grin on his handsome face. He looked fine, better than fine, like nothing had happened the night before. And he was wearing a sharp black suit with a green paisley print tie. Bright colors, bold patterns. He’d taken her advice and she’d been right. The splash of color suited him even better than plain black did.
Brooke grit her teeth. How dare he look so put together when she was haggard and angry and hurting. Her wolf snarled, pissed beyond belief, and Brooke climbed unsteadily to her feet. She needed to get out of here, needed to shift and run. She could make excuses at Cole’s when she got back - Elsie wouldn’t mind if she skipped an hour or two after lunch.
Brooke started for the door but, as she passed Connor’s table - now server free - he reached out and snagged her wrist. Brooke bit her lip to hide a whimper as her shoulder shifted painfully under her sweater.
“Brooke.” He sounded happy to see her and the realization made something in her stomach lurch. He had no idea who she was, or that last night she’d nearly torn him to shreds.
“What do you want, Connor?” she bit out.
“Don’t be like that, I just wanted to check if you’re okay-” His gentle tone grated over her and Brooke found herself unable to control her rage.
“As if you care if I’m okay!” Her voice was shrill and she could feel people turning in their seats to look at the two of them, but she found she didn’t care. It felt so good to lash out. Last night she hadn’t dared to shift, to say all the things she’d wanted to, too blinded by the need to protect her pack, but now she could say whatever she wanted. “You come in to my work every day with your stupid smiles and your cocky retorts, but you have no idea what it is to be a man or a leader.” She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and cursed herself for it. She hated how weak she felt and it drove her words, poison flying from her lips. “As if you care about anything but yourself and your stupid lodge. You really have no idea what it takes to survive, to look after people!” The entire dining hall was silent now as they watched a shop girl scream at her boss like a crappy soap opera, tears pouring down her face.
Connor hadn’t said a word, hadn’t even stood up. He just looked up at her, mouth hanging open slightly, shock and hurt filling his eyes at her words. Good, she thought venomously, stupid fucking perfect man. She tried to yank her arm out of his grasp and cried out again as the pain in her shoulder flared dangerously. Warm blood trickled down her sleeve and Connor’s eyes widened as it hit his fingertips still wrapped around Brooke’s wrist.
“What happened?”
“It’s fine. I can deal with it.”
He stood up, eyes fixed on the blood seeping through her clothes.
“You need help. Come with me.” He pulled her gently towards the dining hall exit. He was always so gentle, except for last night. But he hadn’t known that was her. Brooke fought him weakly, but the pain and the tears were quickly sapping her energy. She had no choice but to follow him up the stairs to his suite.
7
Connor
Connor’s suite was up several flights of stairs, as far away from the rest of the lodge as he could get. It wasn’t often he even slept up there - being the owner meant there weren’t many nights he could get away long enough - so when he did, Connor did his best to ensure that he wasn’t going to be disturbed.
Which made him all the more nervous as he led Brooke gently up the stairs. It had been a lon
g time since he’d had anyone in his room, and he’d wanted Brooke there longer than he wanted to admit, but the arousal he felt was dwarfed by his frustration. It was obvious Brooke wanted nothing to do with him; her outburst in the dining hall had made that perfectly clear. Connor just couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why.
Brooke was deathly silent beside him, allowing him to lead her gently by the wrist of her uninjured arm. He sniffed gently and grunted in relief; she wasn’t bleeding as heavily now.
He unlocked the door with one hand, still convinced she would bolt the second he let go of her, and pushed her gently into the room before closing it again behind him.
Brooke went immediately to the low leather couch by the window, but Connor stayed standing by the door. Silence once again echoed between them, and he found himself awkwardly fiddling with his tie. Bold colors and prints, he thought faintly. See, I do listen.
He hated this. He and Brooke fought, it was what they did, but there was never any actual anger behind it, at least on his side. Apparently, she had a lot of anger, and he felt ashamed for not noticing before. He liked her wit, and the way her eyes would shine when she gave a particularly droll come back.
Connor wasn’t vain, not really, but he knew the rumors that went around about him and his brothers. He also knew that on some level, the rumors were true. He took pride in his sleuth - they were hard working and easy on the eye and, yeah, they had cash to burn, but part of the reason Connor liked Brooke was that she didn’t care about any of that. He’d thought she didn’t, anyway.
A pained hiss brought him back to the present, and he watched as Brooke tested her bad shoulder, pretty face contorting as a fresh stream of blood trickled down her arm. Anger flashed through him. Connor grit his teeth against a growl as he went to find his first aid kit.
He’d had his fair share of fights, more and more over the past year as, one by one, his brothers found their mates through increasingly dangerous circumstances, so now he kept a pretty well stocked first aid kit in his suite.
This is fucking ridiculous, he thought to himself. We haven’t said two words to each other since we got up here, and she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. But Connor couldn’t just let her leave. Brooke was hurt, and no matter how much she might hate him, there was no way he could just leave her or kick her out. Her words played over and over in his mind. You really have no idea what it takes to survive, to look after people! He had no idea what she’d meant by that. Was there something he was missing?
On the way back from grabbing the first aid kit, he paused at the bathroom doorway. Brooke had found her way in there and pulled off her sweater and blouse, leaving her perched on the side of the tub in nothing but a frilly bra and her black pencil skirt, which made her skin look even creamier. His eyes roamed across her; he’d never seen so much of her skin before.
Connor bit his lip, mentally shaking himself. This was not the time to get turned on. There were four angry red slashes running up and down her arm, though the blood was finally starting to staunch. Brooke pulled her long red hair over one shoulder and he caught a whiff of her intoxicating, earthy scent, eyes nearly rolling back in his head at how delicious it was.
“Motherfucker that hurts,” she hissed, gingerly prodding at one of the gashes. Connor winced in sympathy and she looked up at him with a half-hearted glare. He took a tentative step into the bathroom, the first aid kit raised like a peace offering.
“Let me help you,” he almost begged.
Brooke tensed. “I don’t need your help,” she snapped, holding out her hand for the first aid kit.
He huffed, mouth tight, but handed it over and retreated back to the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest, mumbling under his breath, “Stubborn little-”
“Finish that sentence,” Brooke snarled, determined hazel eyes shining. “I dare you.”
Connor swallowed, dick growing hard in his slacks. He could get used to her looking at him like that. He pushed off of the doorframe, eyes never leaving hers. They looked so familiar.
“My bad, I’ll shut up,” he murmured, voice low.
Brooke huffed but her posture relaxed slightly. Her gaze flashed away from him and then back again, the corners of her mouth softening. “You do that.”
He looked down, a small smile creeping onto his face. They were still fighting, but it was a vast improvement on sitting in silence. They were making progress.
She was still looking at him and Connor raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the first aid kit unopened across her lap.
“Are you going to use that?” he quipped.
“What happened to shutting up?” she shot back, then paused before opening the little red box. “Why am I even here? I’ve got all of this stuff back at my apartment.”
Connor raised a brow as she rooted around for the antibacterial gel. “Because you yelled at me in the middle of the dining hall and, as your boss, I couldn’t just leave you bleeding and crying in my lodge.” He meant it as a joke but Brooke tensed up again, gritting her teeth.
“I wasn’t crying.”
He sighed, suddenly feeling tired. He made his way across the room towards her, swallowing around the lump in his throat as she watched him warily.
The air felt heavy as he sat on the tub’s edge beside her and reached for the first aid kit in her lap.
“Let me help-”
“I told you, I don’t need your help-”
“Your wound has to be cleaned. Either get on with it or let me do it for you.”
“Like I have a choice,” she huffed, and something snapped within him.
“Jesus, Brooke, of course you have a choice!” He raked his hand through his hair as they glared at each other, breathing hard. The alpha in him was snarling, demanding to be obeyed, but Brooke stared right back at him, a challenge in her eyes.
“Fine,” she ground out eventually, turning her back on him. Connor ripped open an alcoholic wipe with more animosity than he should, but made sure to be as gentle as possible as he dabbed at the wound.
They once again lapsed into silence as he worked, air tense with unspoken anger as Connor struggled for something to say. He finished cleaning the wound and wrapped it firmly in bandages, suppressing the urge to press a kiss to her shoulder.
He had always been good with his words, but there was something about Brooke that made him hot-headed and tongue-tied every time he tried to say anything meaningful.
So, he settled for a joke. “Where would you be without me?” He watched Brooke hopefully for her response. Nothing. Connor sighed. “Look, I don’t know what happened downstairs, but I’m here for you if you ever want to talk, or-”
“God, you’re so stupid.”
It was only a murmur but it sent anger flaring through him and Connor twisted her round by the shoulder, immediately wincing in regret as she curled up in pain.
“What the fuck is going on Brooke? Because I can’t remember a goddamn thing I’ve done to make you hate me this much!”
“You can’t think of a goddamn thing?” Her voice rose and she jumped to her feet, whirling on him. “Well that just shows what an asshole you really are, huh? You waltz around here thinking that just because you own the place and you never have to worry about anything that you’re God’s fucking gift to the world!” She jabbed him in the chest with almost every word, eyes burning.
Connor stood up, a low growl rumbling from his chest up his throat, but Brooke didn’t seem to care. Her finger jabbed his chest again and he stepped closer, crowding into her space as she yelled.
Fuck he was hard. This was the closest they’d ever been and she smelled so good. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and Connor’s attention was drawn to the movement. She hadn’t picked up her sweater; there was only a thin layer of lace between him and her bare breasts.
“You have everything you could ever want-”
“What I want is you,” he said and pulled her in sharply for a kiss. Brooke growled low in her throat, he c
ould feel it as he reached up to cup her jaw, and he thought for a terrible moment that she was going to push him away. Then she kissed him back, all but launching herself at him as she licked the seam of his lips with her tongue.
Connor groaned. It wasn’t how he’d imagined their first kiss; Brooke was still angry, and there was a bite to her kisses, a hunger that made Connor achingly hard. He felt like laughing, of course this is how it would go, and he wanted more.
He bit softly at her full lower lip and was rewarded with a high breathy whimper that went straight to his cock. Her hands found their way into his hair and pulled. Hard.
Connor broke the kiss as Brooke angled his head back, baring his neck. His bear snarled at the submissive position but Connor found himself leaning into the sensation, watching those eyes as they devoured him.
“Fuck,” he breathed. Brooke’s gaze shot from his mouth to his eyes and they stared at each other for a long moment. She was magnetic, eyes half lidded and mouth swollen and red. Warmth coiled in Connor’s belly. He arched, pressing his growing erection into her thigh and grinned in satisfaction when her breath hitched.
“Fuck me,” she said. His dick twitched but Connor hesitated, still not fighting her grip despite being suddenly unsure.
“Your arm-”
“Goddamnit, Strauss, I don’t care about my fucking arm!”
It was probably meant to sound menacing but Connor could hear the desperation in her voice and grinned. He knocked her hand from his hair and scooped her up in his arms, pressing another hungry kiss to her lips.
He walked them towards the bed, dropping her down onto the sheets and crawling over her, only pausing to rip open his shirt, sending buttons flying in all directions. Brooke groaned underneath him as he settled between her thighs, running his hands up and down her bare legs.
“Tell me what you want, Brooke,” he rasped, reaching for the hem of her skirt and dragging it purposely up her legs. Please, let me take care of you. Brooke writhed beneath him, head thrown back against the sheets as she bucked up into the teasing touches. Satisfaction coiled in Connor’s belly, a dark voice he usually kept locked away in the recesses of his brain snarled a claim.
Connor (Strauss Bear Shifter Brothers 0f Colorado Book 4) Page 4
