Escaping Love (2 page)

Well
, at least he had the bar. It kept him sane. But lately it was beginning to attract a certain kind of trouble.
Females
. The one currently strolling into the bar as if she owned the joint made him pause mid-step. Moon beams for hair and bright green eyes complete with full pouty lips topped a small, curvy frame.

Hell
, if she was pressed against his body she would probably not even reach his chin. His cock stirred beneath his jeans, suggesting he find out for sure. Anger surged at his body’s reaction. Unwillingly, his gaze roamed over her body, pausing on the generous curves of her breasts and hips.

Fighting an unfamiliar
desperation, he stomped toward her.

Then her
gaze locked with his. He sucked in a breath as though a horse kicked him in the gut.
Trouble.
His nostrils flared, bringing in the scent of orchids and fresh rain. God, he loved the smell of rain.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my bar?”

She blinked at him as if he hadn’t even spoken.

“I said, who are you?”

Blood drained from her face as her body swayed. Shit, he must have scared her. Then her knees buckled, sending her to the floor. Instinct took over. His arm snaked under her knees and around her middle. Lifting her to his chest, he paused. What was he going to do with her now? Deftly, he pushed his earpiece to contact Clay.

“Listen
, I need you to close up tonight.”

A grunt sounded on the other end, the bear walked through the door and growled at the few remaining patrons
, sending them scurrying out the door like mice when you turned on the barn light. Clint shook his head and sighed.

“Just try not to tear the place apart.”

The bear gave him another grunt in reply.

Man
, that boy needed to work on his communication skills. The name of the bar should be
Misfits
. The way the place attracted loners was remarkable. A soft whimper drew his thoughts as he remembered the woman in his arms.

Jesus, he couldn’t take her to Gryph’s house or leave her in the bar. What if she robbed the place?
It wasn’t as if there was a Motel 6 around the corner. The nearest place to stay was a roach motel, one-hundred and two miles north. He wouldn’t wish the moldy used sheets on his worst enemy. Wait, he could let her sleep it off in her car. Yeah, that would work. Guilt caused him to hesitate.

He nodded to Clay
. “Which car did she drive up in?”

He needed to know for sure. A lot of the patrons left their cars in the lot
overnight in favor of shifting and running home. They knew their property would be safe at
Gryph’s
.

“She didn’t.”

Clint ground his teeth. Hell, the guy was probably trying. The two-worded sentence was more than he heard the bear say in a long time.

“Didn’t what?”
he gritted.

Clay popped off the top of Budweiser and shrugged. “She walked.”

Yep, definitely trouble. The last unattached female that just happened to “walk” through the big red doors altered thousands of years of tradition. He had the sneaking suspicion this one wouldn’t be any better.

Back to his current problem.
Where to put her? The only thing left was his cabin. At least he could keep an eye on her there.

Yeah right
, that was his
only
motivation.

Cursing
, he went out the back and took the left at the fork. The right led to Gryph’s brick mansion, the other lead to his rustic one-bedroom log cabin. His body tensed as she nuzzled his neck, seeming to burrow into his warmth. Clenching his jaw to keep his groan from passing his lips, he increased his pace.

“Fuck, what am I
doin’?”

The crisp night air gave no response except for the call of crickets and cicadas. Even they seemed to be mocking his situation.
He quickened his steps. Strands of her silky hair tickled his arm. She murmured sleepily into his neck, causing him to misstep, but he recovered quickly. Had the path to his home always been this long?

A soft vibration started where they touched. Was she purring?

“Just great, she’s a cat.”

There. Finally, he could see his home. His cabin rested at the edge of the pine forest. A small meadow was at the front. A blanket of stars and the full moon filled the night sky. This far from the city you could see the
Milky Way. He didn’t understand why people wanted to live in cities. It smelled of refuse, concrete, and metal. Kind of like death. The mountains made you feel alive, as if you were part of some bigger plan.

The
wood step creaked a welcome as it absorbed his weight. A few more feet and she would be in his cabin. What would she think of his home? Yeah it was small, but it was cozy, offering everything a man needed to be happy. He frowned. What the hell did it matter if she liked his place or not? It wasn’t like she’d be sticking around. Truth was he needed to find out who she was and get her back to her Clan. No doubt she’d be alarmed to find herself in a strange place with an unfamiliar male. The last thing he needed was a Clan war while Gryph and Jenny were on their honeymoon.

He pushed open his front door using the edge of his boot. A small lamp with an aspen base glowed in the corner. He pressed his lips in a thin line as he soaked up the scene of his living room. A secondhand couch, complete with broken
-down cushions and fraying edges was his centerpiece. It smelled burnt on account of the particularly cold winter he slid it too close to his airtight stove.

His end tables where hand crafted Aspen,
drawn and cut by his own hands; they were nothing fancy but they suited him. Antlers decorated his walls and faded, brown rug rested at the base of his couch just big enough to keep the chill from the hardwood from penetrating to his feet. What he thought was comfortable—cozy even—now seemed like a collection roadside refuse.

He couldn’t let her sleep in
here. His gaze fell to her relaxed face.

She
had small smudges of dirt on her nose and cheeks, but the skin beneath was smooth, perfect. Her hands were soft and supple, obviously not familiar with physical work. Her nails were perfectly manicured and her hair expertly cut. Whatever her position in her Clan, she wasn’t on the bottom of the totem pole, that was for sure.

Worry made him pause before continuing. He should just take her back to the bar. At least she’d probably recognize it when she woke. He started to turn
, but his wolf paced in his mind. When she collapsed instinct demanded he protect her. The bar had too much traffic even though it would be empty tonight. Tomorrow the regulars would file in bright and early.

He could close it but the locked door would draw too much suspicion. He needed to keep her safe until he could arm himself with more information. She wouldn’t like it, Hell he didn’t like it, but she’d have to stay with him where he could protect her.

Yeah, right. Who was he kidding? Having her in his home delighted him in a way he didn’t want to analyze too closely.

As quietly as a man weighing
two-hundred-fifty pounds and standing at about six-three could, he carried her to his bedroom. It was the best he could do. Clint did his utmost to clinically strip her outer layer of clothes from her body.

He tucked her in
to his sheets and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, lingering a little too long. The Little Cat looked good in his bed. The bulge in his pants agreed. He narrowed his eyes at his hand stopped just short of caressing her lip.

S
he needed to leave. When she woke, he was sending her back to her Clan. After he did a little digging into her identity. The danger she represented seemed like too much of a risk for his sanity.

The smooth
, rich aroma of coffee lulled her from her restful sleep. But weeks of being on the run fueled her reaction. She leaped from bed, bringing her cat barreling to the surface. Partially shifting, her claws pricked at her palms as her feline senses took stock of her surroundings. Her unusual talent posed one problem—her clothes couldn’t properly fit her form and ripped at the seams.
Damn
.

She’d worry about new clothes later. She tried to slow her breathing and silence her pounding heart.
The sound of someone clinking around in what was probably a kitchen, and light from the risen sun shone brightly from the window.

No
tickle of unease. She seemed safe. No one barreled into the space, and a somewhat familiar aroma perforated the room. The bed she’d been in seemed nice, and she’d occupied it alone. “I know you’re awake,” a familiar voice drawled.

The C
owboy
. Ignoring the weird flutter in her stomach from being in his bed, between his sheets, she assessed her situation. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Assuming this guy hadn’t kidnapped her and was waiting for her father to pay up.

Tradition meant she was under the protection of the Koning Clan until the queen formally heard her request. If this guy was left in charge during the queen’s absence, then he was a member of the Clan?  All of this was just a guess. If the queen was home
, then why wouldn’t he have put her in Jenifer’s home?

“I’m making breakfast
. You hungry darlin’?”

S
he scowled at the open door, then her gaze returned to his bed, and she briefly noticed the beautiful handmade quilt serving as his bedspread. Birds chirped outside, sitting on the branches of some kind of white-barked tree as they swayed in a gentle breeze. Every living thing seemed to be chipper in the morning. Well, not her.

Her lips curled in an unladylike fashion while she growled low in her chest. She managed a single word.

“Bathroom.”

Was he laughing at her?

“It’s through the door on your left.”

Her body ached, everywhere. A thick fog filled her head. Maybe a soak in a tub would be better. Yeah, she almost purred.
Just what she needed. The idea of hot water dissolving some of her worries away seemed like heaven. She rushed past the open door and stopped in her overexcited tracks.

Her mind cleared
, realizing that stripping down and leaving herself vulnerable in a stranger’s house wasn’t the best idea. Still annoyed and needing to focus, she complained, knowing he could hear her.

“What kind of home doesn’t have a tub?”

His voice carried into the room. “I prefer to shower.”

“Barbarian,” she murmured.

The hillbilly’s low rumble of laughter tickled sent tremors of excitement straight to her pussy. She slammed the door to the bathroom and thought she heard him laughing at her again. She huffed, glad she could bring such joy to his life. In the small room his scent overwhelmed her. Exotic wood tickled her nose. It was cedar. Her mother had a small chest made of the wood. It made her a little homesick. God, he smelled like home to her.

Despite the thoughts of her mother, her body reacted in an entirely different way. Her nipples formed hard peaks and her inner walls clenched with need. It was not the kind of distraction she needed. Sex had always been a casual thing for her. After losing her virginity to the
asshat A.K.A. captain of her father’s guard, she never let feelings mingle with the joining of bodies, seeking mutual release.

Maybe that’s what she needed. After she pleaded her case with the queen maybe she and the cowboy could have a rodeo of their own. Smiling at her bad joke, she
splashed cool water on her face, washing away the smudges of dirt. The crisp feel of it turned her more human and less like the morning monster.  Her appearance rivaled that of a madwoman with dilated pupils and tattered clothes. She’d wished she’d been a little more careful and not destroyed her only outfit. Letting out a heavy sigh she returned to the bedroom and froze with surprise.

The bed was neatly made, a pile of fresh clothes sat at the base, and a tray loaded with breakfast essentials like juice, coffee, and pancakes waited for her consumption.
Crap. She needed to apologize, big time. Raising her hand to quiet her boisterous stomach, she wanted to kick her own grumpy butt. Guilt made a home in her chest so a weight sat over her heart.

The clothes weren’t what she was use
d to, but they would help her blend in with the locals. The jeans were a little snug on her voluptuous curves. The extra length was easily solved by rolling the bottoms. The shirt, a soft baby blue color, was a tad tight. But hey, it wasn’t as if she was going to complain. After all he’d taken the time to find something for her. She picked up the tray and went to join him for breakfast.

What she saw took her breath away. His back was to her. A beautifully
-depicted eagle tattoo spanned his muscular shoulders. His left arm served as the canvas for more but she couldn’t make them out clearly. One rested on his side.

Her tongue slipped
over her bottom lip. What would he taste like?