Waking the Bear (Shifter Wars) (13 page)

“What a view.” Her breath came in short gasps, and she forgot how tired she was.

“I’m glad you like it. Back here—” he motioned “—is where we’ll eat. We still have the view.”

“Great.” She almost hugged him then stopped herself. “With this view, why is no one else up here?”

“No access roads. You have to hike in and honestly, I don’t think people realize what they’re missing. It’s a well protected secret, though some know of it, of course.”

“I hear water.” She turned to see where Griff had placed the picnic basket. Down the rock face, rivulets of water streamed into a larger creek at the bottom. A small waterfall splashed its way down on one side and large boulders piled around the scene like picnic tables.

“Like it?”

She clapped her hands together. “I love it.”

“There are caves here, too. Today, we’ll eat outside.” He climbed up on the larger rock and scooted the basket closer. “Come on.” He held out his hand. “Let’s hurry. There’s so much I want to share with you and I feel like we’re on a timer.”

“Glad I wore jeans.” Amy reached for him and his hand clasped around hers.

With little effort he hoisted her up onto the rock and nearly into his lap. She dusted off her hands and stood to take in the mountain view.

“I wish I could enjoy this every day.” She shielded her eyes from the sun.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind and suddenly she was in his embrace. She didn’t fight it but leaned back against him. The wind lifted her hair and tossed it about and he pulled her close then turned her to face him.

He ran a fingertip down her cheek, sending chills racing to her core.

“You can enjoy this every day,” he whispered. “All you have to do is choose to.”

“I’m only here two months.”

He brushed her hair back and she shuddered at his gentle touch. No one had ever been so tender with her. She couldn’t stay in the mountains. She didn’t have the money to stay longer than two months, or a job. Or even a place to stay if she did. Staying was wishful thinking on both their parts.

“What about today?” He pushed her hair away from her face and looked into her eyes. “Can you give me today?”

“I fully intend to spend today with you.” She blinked, her heart thudding. Maybe she could stay. But so many things would have to fall into place. And staying was such a big step, one she hadn’t considered before. “You owe me lunch, and I’m starving.”

He laughed and she grinned, proud of herself for getting the last laugh for once. Usually it was Griff that made the funny comment. She stared up into the sunlit sky.

The day couldn’t get any better.

He pulled her face toward his.

Then his lips met hers.

Warm and tender, she didn’t have the chance to complain, but she didn’t want to, either. She wanted more of him. More kisses, more everything.

She kissed him fully, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. He pulled her tight, his hands splayed against her back.

The evidence of his own arousal pressed toward her and she ached to feel him. Every hesitation she’d had fell away.

Yes, she could give him today. Would give him today. She and this sexy man out alone in the wilderness? Heck, she’d be insane not to at least try to get some action.

She’d worry about her plans to leave the mountains another day.

His tongue looped and slid along hers and she thrust hers toward him. His fingers in her hair, he pulled her head to him and stepped back on the rock, knocking the picnic basket sideways a little. Amy tried to push the basket away with her foot. Better be a blanket in there because having sex on a bare rock was going to be scratchy.

He tugged her closer and her body met his. She ran her hands up his firm abdomen to his shoulders, then lifted on tiptoes to kiss him more fiercely.

With a groan, he locked her in a tight embrace, his fingers playing along the top of her jeans’ waistband, just under the edge of her shirt.

Shivers raced up her back at his touch and she melted into him.

A loud squall sounded that echoed across the open field and she and Griff both looked. Fear slithered up her spine.

He stepped away and scanned the area, and she held on to his arm.

“What was that?” She tried to stay close to him without leaning on him. “Or who was that? It almost sounded like a woman screaming.”

Griff focused his look on the area of the woods where they’d come from.

Amy shook her head. Another hiker in the area? Now she needed a blanket, earplugs and maybe a privacy screen. The not-so-advertised location was getting awfully busy.

The scream echoed across the meadow and off the rock.

She didn’t see another person anywhere.

Then the squeal morphed into a low growl that rumbled her insides. Then two growls.

Griff gripped Amy’s arms and yanked her toward him.

Two large black mountain lions walked into the meadow, about forty feet away, the tops of their backs visible over the flowers and their tails high. Regal in the afternoon sun, they sauntered like they owned the land.

“We should go.” Griff slipped his hand into the picnic basket and pulled out his gun.

“I don’t want to be around them.” She put her hand on his arm, aware that hers had gone cold from fear. “I’m scared.”

Griff held the gun out in front of him. “You’re safe. Don’t worry.”

“What if they attack?” She kept backing away. The last time she’d heard that, it wasn’t true. It also wasn’t Griff.

“Here’s hoping they’re smart enough not to.”

She watched the two big cats slink near them then stop and watch. Now only twenty-five feet away, their golden eyes bored into her. Stately. Beautiful.

Dangerous.

Griff hollered at the lions and they stood still, then looked at each other as if they were discussing something.

Almost like they were human.

Amy picked up a rock and flung it at the duo. As soon as the rock bounced on the ground near them, they took off running across the meadow and into the forest.

As beautiful as the mountain lions were, Amy shook from fear. Two lions.

“Good job.” Griff grabbed the picnic basket, all business. “I don’t think they’ll be back. But we should go.”

“I’m not risking it.” Amy rubbed her arms. Griff was upset. She could tell by the way he’d grabbed the basket so hard.

Griff nodded and helped her off the rock, all the while scanning the area. “I need to report seeing these lions.”

“Okay.”

He held on to her hand and ran his thumb along the backside. “Let’s go. Maybe we’ll meet a friendly bear on the way out, for the picnic win.”

She smiled. Good thing he felt safe. It did help her. He was trained and he had a gun. Everything was going to be fine.

Still, the air seemed colder, the scene starker—as if something had broken paradise. Amy walked beside Griff without saying a word.

What now?

I kissed the landlord.

And I liked it.

Chapter Thirteen

The Oaken Barrel was tucked between the Laundromat and the corner grocery, its entrance positioned two steps up from street level. A rickety handrail led up the steps to the large wooden door. Amy had arrived a bit early to check the place out and she peered up and down the street before heading into the bar.

No sign of Griff yet. She’d talked to him a few times on the phone in the past couple of days but he’d been pretty busy setting up extra security because of the lions in the Deep Creek Park. She steeled herself before entering the bar. No sign of anyone, really, which was completely different from the Friday night Atlanta scene. People lined up outside bars to get in there. Here, it looked like she’d be able to go straight in whenever she was ready. No velvet rope in Oakwood.

She’d worn her hair down and straight and didn’t dress up. Intentionally. Jeans, a pale blue button-up shirt and flats. Nothing fancy. She hadn’t seen Griff since the picnic earlier in the week, and he’d acted odd on the way home after they spotted the lions. Like he was preoccupied with something. Their telephone conversations had been friendly but not too deep. Mostly more conversations about their pasts and their jobs. She’d learned a lot about being a ranger and she’d told him about ADvert and how she wasn’t planning to go back into that kind of work again.

She fiddled with one of the buttons on the front of her shirt. She could wait on him to get there to go on in. Or not. After all, he could already be waiting for her inside. He hadn’t really said where to meet. She checked her phone to see if she had a text from him. Nothing. She wasn’t about to text him and ask, either. That might appear needy. He knew she would be here, and he’d told her he’d let her know if he couldn’t make it.

Now she was second-guessing herself. How far was she going to let things go with Griff? She hadn’t rented the cabin to be social—quite the opposite.
It’s supposed to be me time
. She’d told him she would come, and a tiny part of her was looking forward to seeing him. More than a tiny part, but she had a hard time admitting that to herself.

She’d spent a lot of time thinking about the kiss and replaying it in her mind and wondering what might have happened if the lions hadn’t shown up.

She already had the plan figured out. She’d stay a little while and if Griff was acting weird, she’d head home—the painting she’d been working on wouldn’t finish itself. She hadn’t told him she’d spend most of Friday evening at the bar. She’d agreed to come, have a beer, and meet a few people. That was it. She climbed the steps and grabbed the handle of the heavy oak door.

Wonder if he’s here yet.

She pulled the door open.

A funky music vibe hit her as soon as she stepped into the darkened room, and she spotted a handful of patrons sitting on stools or standing around the room. An empty dance floor was positioned in the center of the bar, its lights flashing and thumping in time with the music.

The bar appeared to be non-smoking. Still, the room air was stale and heavy with odors. Old beer and even older perfume. The dim glow of neon lit the place to a manageable level and two large fans spun slowly overhead.

Where is everyone?
No Griff in sight.

Tables spread around the periphery of the room. The bar itself, sitting against the far wall, was a massive construct of dark wood and mirrors, and a raised lounge with pool tables and darts lay off the left side of the room. The Oaken Barrel was pretty much like any other bar she’d seen in the US.

Dark, noisy, and more than a little lonely feeling.

She turned to leave, but a firm hand grasped her shoulder. She turned to see a bright smile illuminating a pale, effeminate and striking face, somewhat angular in its attractiveness. Not Griff.

“Hello there, beautiful,” the man said. “I’ve not seen you here before.”

Why would such a handsome man be talking to her? Even with such a lame line. She looked around to see if another woman was nearby that he might be talking to, but no one was even close to them.

Maybe he was a bouncer.
Kinda thin.
Then again, Oakwood was small. Would they need a bouncer at a bar? Probably not.

She looked back to him. Eyes so light in the dimness, they had to be blue, and short hair that appeared to be recently trimmed. She stammered, “First time I’ve been here.”

He took her by the elbow and led her to the bar. “Then I need to welcome you properly.” He winked. “Come on. Let me buy you a drink.”

Amy looked around for Griff. She wasn’t in the habit of accepting drinks from strangers. Not even model types like this man. No question about it, he was handsome and he gave off a strong vibe of power. Something about him screamed strength, even though he was lean. “I—”

“Make my night and let me buy you your first drink at the Oaken Barrel.” His firm grip increased on her elbow, and he guided her forward. “Come on, I won’t bite.”

It’s not that big of a deal.
She nodded. He was being a little pushy, but maybe that was because he couldn’t hear her well in the dark bar. “Okay. I guess that’s all right.”

She’d watch to make sure he didn’t slip anything into her drink, but the last thing she wanted to do was piss off someone in the small town. This guy might be the mayor or something. He was handsome and she was in public, and she wanted a drink.

They maneuvered around the empty dance floor to the bar. He never let go of her elbow and she let him lead her.

Griff would arrive soon, anyway.
Yes
, she admitted. She was looking forward to seeing him again. Here she was, at a bar, a good-looking guy was buying her a drink, and all she could think about was Griff. How had he gotten under her skin in only a few weeks?

He’d get under anyone’s skin
, she consoled herself.
He’s a good guy.
Knowing he’d lost his parents as a child made her hurt for his loss, but she’d never been one to go for pity cases. No, whatever it was that intrigued her about him was real. It was just the worst timing in the world. Her time at the cabin was going to come to an end quickly and she’d learned back in college that long-distance relationships never worked.

A ballad played over the bar speakers, and the man pulled out a bar stool for her. “Sit with me a minute,” he said. He waited for her to sit, then pulled up a stool beside her. A gentleman. “I’m Evers. What’s your name, beautiful?”

She smiled a seventy-nine percenter.
He probably calls every girl beautiful.
“My name’s Amy.”

“Nice to meet you.” He motioned for the bartender, his gesture as fluid as a ballet dancer. “What do you want to drink, Amy?” His eyes peered at her with an almost feral intensity, like he was scrutinizing her every gesture, maybe even her thoughts. It was unnerving. If they’d been alone somewhere, she’d really be flipping out.

Live a little. Stop being so anxious.
“I’ll have a rum and soda. Thank you.”

“You heard the lady. Rum and soda. I’ll have your best craft beer. Mountainfest if you have it.” Evers directed the bartender. “And a glass of ice water.”

The bartender, a youngish guy of maybe twenty-two, set napkins in front of them. “You got it. Right back.”

Evers turned to her and flashed his smile again. “So what brings you to Oakwood? Not a lot here besides the national forest, and no offense, but you don’t look like the mountain climbing type.”

Music began thumping again, but the bar area was quieter. She looked around. Not many people. She’d have to question Griff about his statement that a lot of people hung out at the Barrel on Friday nights. From what she saw, that didn’t appear to be the case.

She turned and studied Evers, his piercing eyes as hard and shiny as polished rocks. He met her stare. His genteel conversation didn’t really jibe with his stern look.

Something was off about him, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

He raised his eyebrows. “So why are you here in this sleepy little town? That voice tells me you’re from the South—or at least south of here. Why would you be up here in this part of the country? Vacation?”

“I’m from Atlanta but I...came here to think. Get away from the fast lane for a while.” She fidgeted with her napkin. “No, I’m not planning to climb any mountains.” She bit back the laugh that bubbled up in her nervousness.

Where was Griff? This was getting more and more awkward.

A gaggle of chatty girls burst into the bar, and Amy turned to see the distraction. They moved in a group of hair and sequins and lots of makeup. Amy shook her head. She’d never been like that.

“Believe it or not, this place will be full of people by eleven,” Evers said, swiveling on his stool. “I don’t think there’s anything else to do or anywhere else to be on a Friday night. Not around here. Not unless you wanted to hang out in the forest.”

“No forest for me.” So Griff had been telling the truth about the bar after all. Where was he? He was late. This guy, Evers, was getting creepier by the moment.

The bartender set the drinks in front of them, then poured the ice water. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

“Perfect.” Evers took a gulp of his beer and scanned the room, his gaze stopping on the group of girls dancing together.

Amy watched him stare at the girls. Was he in the bar hoping for a hookup? Those girls seemed too young to be out flaunting themselves.

He turned to her. “How long are you staying in town? A week? Two?”

Alarm bells sounded in her brain. She shouldn’t be telling a complete stranger her plans. That was not smart. She sipped her drink to buy time to think. He seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t really ever tell, could you?

“I’m not sure,” she lied. “Depends on how quickly I recover my sanity. I lost my job, and now I’m trying to figure out what direction I want to go in. You know, what I want to do with my life. Next steps and all that.”

“I’m sorry to hear about the job. I hope Oakwood proves to be relaxing for you and that you can figure out what you want to do with your life.” He smiled, his teeth gleaming. His hair shone. Hell, everything about the man sparkled, like he was some big-screen vampire. “Some people come here and never leave, you know. Not me, though. I’m just visiting.”

Amy couldn’t help but stare at his perfectly white teeth. His sharp pointy teeth. She shook her head to clear the image. Having such an imagination was sometimes a curse, but the vibe Evers was giving off wasn’t completely a rational one. Still, being with him kept her from being alone.

She looked around for Griff again. The bar was filling up fast, but she didn’t see him anywhere. He’d stand a head taller than almost everyone in the room, so she was pretty sure he hadn’t arrived.

“Waiting on someone?” Evers took another swig of beer. “You keep looking around like you’re searching for somebody.”

She ducked her head as the flush crept up her neck. Busted. She should go ahead and tell him the truth. After all, he’d find out when Griff arrived. “Yeah, my landlord was going to meet me here to introduce me to some of Oakwood’s residents. He’s a park ranger. Maybe you know him? Griff Martin?”

Evers could’ve broken the beer bottle with the squeeze he gave it. “I know of him,” he said. “So he’ll be here tonight. Interesting.”

He knows
of
Griff? What? Amy took another sip of her drink.
What the heck does that mean? Awkward, much
?

She peeked at Evers. He skimmed the room with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. He was looking for someone. She dared not follow his gaze. Something about him felt wrong.

Her gut feeling was getting worse by the moment.

He felt wild. Not the free-range wild, but sinister like a wild and feral animal. Like his pretty shell was hiding a rancid psyche. She was used to creeps in bars, but they weren’t usually so handsome. She sipped her drink.

If things went bad, she didn’t need Griff to rescue her.

The music changed to a techno-pop ballad and grew a bit louder, but still not too loud to talk over.

Evers stood. “Let’s dance.”

“I don’t—”

“One song.” He tugged her to standing. “I’m sure your landlord won’t mind.”

She really didn’t want to dance with the man, but he wasn’t giving her much of a way out. If she said no, she’d definitely look rude. Maybe Griff would hurry up and get to the bar and cut in. Otherwise, the dance was going to be a long one.

“One.” She turned her drink up and finished it, then set the empty glass on the bar. “But that’s it.”

He took her hand. Leading her to the dance floor, he caressed her palm, his fingers bony and coarse and cold. She shivered. When they reached the floor, other dancers moved to make room for them. Amy saw the look on some of the girls’ faces. They’d all rather be dancing with Evers. For once, Amy had the beau of the ball holding her in his arms, and he danced like a prince.

She’d rather be dancing with her landlord. Her park ranger.

She was really interested in what the deal was with Evers and Griff. Evers had tensed at the mention of Griff’s name; though slight, she’d seen it.

The bar lights lowered even more and the song warbled over the cheap sound system. Now the air was thick with body odor and alcohol and other thick smells. Amy was a little dizzy from the drink but okay to dance.

Then the song changed to a slow ballad.

Evers pulled her close, his hands low around her waist, dangerously close to her ass. Glad for her decision to wear jeans instead of a miniskirt, Amy wiggled to move away from his hands but instead ended up pressing into him as he slid one hand into her back pocket.

Great, he probably thought she did it on purpose.

“That feels nice,” he hissed in her ear. “That’s more like it. No more cold fish—I knew you were a hot-blooded girl.” He pulled her even more tightly to him, running one hand up her back to her bra strap and sliding a thumb underneath.

“Stop that,” she whispered. “Now.” Her heart raced. Either the man had two pairs of tube socks rolled up in his jeans or...

“Fine, have it your way.” He slid the hand down her back and into her other jeans pocket. He yanked her to him.