Hot and Badgered

  “Hey,” he said when he was close enough not to yell.

  She smiled at him and he loved how happy she seemed to see him. She didn’t look at people that way very often. “I’ve got a name for your dog. Benny.”

  “Benny?”

  “He loves it. Licked my foot when I asked him.”

  “He’s weird. He likes to lick feet.”

  “I thought about other names like Atlas or Titan. But that seems so typical for a big dog. So I went with Benny, which is much better than your nonexistent name.”

  He rested his ass on the car trunk beside Charlie, but even that little bit—he barely put any weight on it—had the car dropping down as if an anvil had been placed on it. Berg cringed, embarrassed, but Charlie only laughed and handed him her beer.

  He took a sip and she rested her head on his arm.

  “Thank you for this,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “Bringing me someplace where I can leave my sisters alone for five minutes. It’s a nice feeling.”

  “Are you going to leave?” he abruptly asked.

  Charlie gazed at him. “What?”

  “Are you going to leave? Like soon . . . or . . . you know . . . ever? ”

  “Ever? I can’t tell you. Sometimes the MacKilligans leave and sometimes we are run off. But I wasn’t planning on going anywhere soon.”

  “This thing with the Guerra twins and your dad all gets resolved, say, tomorrow . . . you’re out of here?”

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it. I kind of like it here. Except for the weird demands for baked goods. But then again . . . the bears do give me ovens. So that seems fair.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” he admitted.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Yet. And this seems like a really intense conversation for two people who’ve known each other for a very short amount of time.”

  “Did your wolf grandfather have a mate?”

  “Yeah. I never had a chance to meet her.”

  “Is he a good-looking guy? Tall? Handsome?”

  Charlie took out her phone, pulled up a picture of her and her grandfather at a Pack Christmas get-together a few years back.

  Berg looked and said, “Then the answer is, ‘Yes. He is.’ Your grandfather is the kind of guy who would have gotten a new woman eventually. Except that he couldn’t.”

  “He dated. I know he dated.”

  “He had sex. But I bet he never brought anybody home and said, ‘This is your new grandma.’”

  “No.” She gave a small shake of her head. “He never did that.”

  “Because he’d found the one, and for shifters . . . that’s all there is.”

  “Unless you’re a MacKilligan male apparently.”

  “I can’t speak for that . . . bloodline. I can only tell you what I know about the rest of us.”

  “And you think I’m the one for you?”

  “I don’t know.” He was lying. He already knew. “But I won’t be sure if you leave suddenly.”

  “If I leave it’s because I need to protect my sisters.”

  “But they seem happy here.”

  “Except Stevie’s career is in Switzerland right now.”

  “She doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. Actually, she seems really comfortable right now. I mean . . . as comfortable as she can be when she’s not screaming and running from bears.”

  Charlie chuckled. “She does seem comfortable. For her. But my sisters come first. I have to protect them. That’s my job.”

  “I feel the same way about Britta and Dag, but . . . what? Nothing for you?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” She rubbed her forehead. “But I’m not trying to . . . you know . . . get away from you either. Which, for me, is a lot.”

  “All I ask is that you tell me if you need to go. For whatever reason. Even if it’s to get away from me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You are the most amiable person I’ve ever met. Why would I need to get away from you?”

  “That makes me sound boring.”

  Charlie jumped off the trunk and faced Berg head-on. “Dude,” she practically snarled, “you can shift into a fifteen-hundred-pound bear! How fucking boring can you be?”

  Berg gave a little shrug. “Polars shift into fifteen hundred pounds. I only shift to a thousand.”

  Charlie threw up her hands. “Oh! Well, then.”

  * * *

  He was so frustrating! Cute. Sweet. Goddamn lovable. He could have any woman who didn’t have a fear of heights. But he was worried about being too boring for her?

  God, she needed boring. If boring meant stable and loving and caring. If it meant taking care of those you loved. Then, yeah, the dude was boring.

  The kind of “boring” she’d always wanted in her life. From the moment Charlie had been conceived, everything about her life was a surprise. Even her. Never had anyone been with her just because they wanted to be. Things had worked out, even when she’d been dumped on some unsuspecting person’s doorstep—like her grandfather—but it would have been great to know she’d always been wanted. Always been needed. And not just because she could kill twenty people in a room without working up a sweat.

  And to her shock . . . she’d finally found that. In a bear who was a triplet.

  Could she stay around forever? She still didn’t know. But while she was here . . .

  Charlie moved in and kissed Berg. Without warning. Just grabbed him and kissed him. Because she wanted to and she knew he wouldn’t mind.

  And, boy, did he not mind.

  His big arms wrapped around her and lifted her up so that she could wrap her legs around his waist and dig her fingers into his hair. That great, thick sexy bear hair.

  “Come home with me,” he whispered when he pulled away.

  The party was still going on and her sisters couldn’t be more secure. So she kissed him again and that seemed to be the only answer he needed.

  * * *

  He carried her back to his house, the pair kissing the entire way. Her body was warm and pliable in his arms, but she was also demanding.

  They reached his front door and he carried her inside, closing the door in “Benny’s” face, much to his annoyance. Damn dog.

  Berg wanted to get her upstairs but he only got her as far as the wall beside the stairs. That’s where he pinned her, still kissing her, but now with his hands moving all over her.

  She pulled his T-shirt off, forcing him to stop long enough so she could get it over his head. Charlie tossed it aside and then removed her own, her bra quickly following.

  Then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he knew she’d wanted to feel him skin to skin. Her hands moved over his shoulders, down his arms, back up to his shoulders again.

  She dragged her short nails against the tight muscles in his neck.

  Berg growled, unable to help himself, praying she didn’t get scared off. Then again, this was the woman who’d told Sissy Mae Smith, “I don’t know you.” The entire party had been talking about it . . . the bears laughing. Mostly because the She-wolf had been so insulted.

  But that was not a woman who was going to be frightened off by some growling. Or a little snarling. Or fangs brushing against her shoulder.

  He was right, too. It didn’t scare her off. It turned her on. Charlie’s grip on him tightened, her breath growing harsher, her nipples hard against his chest.

  Berg unleashed his claws and shredded the shorts and panties from her body. She shuddered hard and kissed him deeper. He grabbed the condom he’d put in his back pocket in case an opportunity with Charlie presented itself that night. Thankfully, it had. Right now.

  Berg didn’t believe in missing opportunities.

  He slipped the condom on and buried himself so deep inside Charlie MacKilligan he felt part of her. Until he knew he’d never find anyone who could replace her. Who could fill the Charlie-sized hole she’d built for herself inside his heart?

  Berg stopped moving, lett
ing himself just feel her pulsating around him. Warm and needy, loving and demanding, ballsy and ridiculous.

  No wonder she’d warned him away from her at the beginning. Not because of some curse, but because she was like a drug where one hit was too much and a thousand hits were not enough. She was in his blood now. In his soul. Her concerns were his. Her troubles his. Her family his.

  Her sisters had problems that he’d feel responsible to help fix, the same as he did with his own siblings. Because that’s what happened when you found your mate. His father had warned him. “Your mother may drive me nuts,” he’d often complain, “but I can’t imagine my life without her.”

  Now he understood his father as he never had before.

  He pulled out of their kiss and looked down into her face. Studied it, pushing her curly hair off her cheeks so he could see her clearly.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, stroking her hands down his chest.

  His Charlie. No matter what was going on, she was always thinking about others. It was her way. He didn’t think she knew any other.

  He wanted to tell her he loved her, but it was too soon. The big shifter world was still kind of foreign to her. Still an oddity.

  So he began to slowly fuck her. Taking his time. Stroking his cock inside her as he watched her face. Enjoying the way she smiled when he thrust in.

  Berg wouldn’t tell her he loved her. Not yet. But he would tell her the truth. So she understood.

  “You mean everything to me, Charlie,” he said, leaning in so his breath hit her ear. “If you have to leave, tell me first. Just tell me.”

  She gasped, her entire body throbbing around him. Her pussy beginning to squeeze him so hard he was sure he was seeing stars.

  “Okay,” she said around her gasps. “Okay.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I . . . God . . . yes. I . . . I promise,” she finally got out before burying her face against his shoulder, her fangs biting down on his flesh, the pain sending him over the edge.

  He came so hard he could barely remember his name.

  * * *

  Charlie opened her eyes when she tasted blood in her mouth.

  “Oh, my God!” She wiped her hand against her lips. “Berg, I’m so sorry.”

  He gazed at her, eyes slowly blinking. “For what?”

  “I bit you.” She examined the wound, wincing at the clear fang marks on his shoulder. “I broke the skin.”

  “So?”

  She lifted her head. “We’re not vampires, dude.”

  “No, but we’re predators. Biting’s expected.” He kissed her and, still inside her, kicked off his jeans and sneakers, and carried her up the stairs.

  “We can’t leave our clothes and condom wrappers just lying around your house,” she warned him. “I’m guessing Britta wouldn’t be okay with that. I know I wouldn’t be okay with that.”

  “You grew up with sisters. Britta, sadly for her, grew up with two brothers.” He carried her into his bedroom and together they fell onto the mattress. “Trust me. Over the years, my sister has dealt with much worse. But,” he added, “don’t believe her if she calls you a whore when you leave tomorrow.”

  Charlie frowned. “Wait . . . what?”

  chapter TWENTY-NINE

  Max tied up the last of the trash bags and tossed it on the massive pile before heading into the house. Stevie and the seventeen-year-old who had been too young to drink but weirdly didn’t complain about that had made themselves scarce as soon as the party wound down and Britta began forcing wolverines and She-wolves to start cleaning.

  Not surprising. Stevie hated cleaning in general. She always expected someone else to do it for her.

  The luxury life of the prodigy, Max supposed.

  Once in the kitchen—every last morsel of Charlie’s baking had disappeared along with the bears—Max found Britta pouring herself a glass of water.

  “Hey, Max, my brother took Charlie back to our house. I’m almost positive they’re having sex, which is not a problem for me, but if I find any evidence of that outside his bedroom, I’m going to lose my shit. So can I stay the night here so he has a chance to clean up the place before I get home?”

  Max loved Britta. She was a six-foot-seven nut, but she was a hilarious nut. Max enjoyed that in any woman.

  “Absolutely. There are extra bedrooms down the hall. And tons of fresh bedding that suddenly appeared in the closet yesterday.”

  “Thanks. Dag already nabbed the couch. It’s for black bears, though,” she said, “so he’s all scrunched up on it.”

  They both laughed at that until they heard it. Not Dag. He was snoring loudly in a cute drunken stupor. This sound was soft. And they’d both noticed it.

  Britta lifted her nose, scented the air. She pointed up.

  Max reached under the table and grabbed two .45s, tossing one to Britta.

  Moving quickly but silently, they went up the stairs and down the hall, stopping outside Stevie’s bedroom.

  Britta was about to kick the door in, but Max stopped her with a raised hand. She put her forefinger to her lips.

  Max eased the door open. While her baby sister slept soundly in the bed—blissfully unaware, probably zonked out on her nighttime meds—their father was busy going through a pile of notebooks that had arrived earlier that day from Switzerland.

  He was so intent on whatever he was doing, he didn’t even know that his other daughter and a goddamn bear were watching him.

  Biting back a snarl, Max marched into Stevie’s room, wrapped her hand around her father’s mouth from behind and pressed her gun against the side of his neck.

  “Not a sound. Not a word.” She started to drag him to the door, but Britta was suddenly there, grabbing Freddy’s legs and lifting them off the floor. Together, they carried him out into the hallway.

  That’s where they met a shirtless Shen. He had his own .45 out and he was ready for whatever.

  Max motioned at Stevie’s door. “Close it,” she said low. “Then go back to bed. We’ve got this.”

  * * *

  Britta never expected the MacKilligan sisters’ idiot father would dare come back to New York, much less his daughters’ house in the middle of bear territory. But here they were.

  They carried the honey badger out into the yard and threw him into the garage wall.

  When he tried to get up, Britta rammed her foot against his shoulder, pinning him there.

  Max crouched next to Freddy MacKilligan.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Nothing. I just needed a place to—”

  Max grabbed her father by the throat with one hand and squeezed. He began choking, slapping at her hand, trying to get her to release him. She did. Just when he started to turn blue.

  While he coughed and took in big gulps of air, she asked again, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  He gazed at his daughter with bloodshot eyes. “Go to hell.”

  Calmly, Max let out a breath. “I will have this She-bear break your windpipe for me and then I’ll hold your nose closed until you suffocate. And we all know that I am the crazy MacKilligan to do it and not lose a moment of sleep. So are you really going to make me ask you again . . . or are you just going to tell me? Because we both know you’re not brave.”

  Freddy looked up at Britta and she balled up one fist, knowing her knuckles would crack. An irritating sound that drove her brothers crazy but was so effective on others.

  Swallowing, Freddy looked at his daughter and said, “Please . . . please don’t hurt—”

  The damn badger suddenly slipped out from under Britta’s foot and with a surprising amount of that hidden strength badgers were known for, he tossed his daughter at Britta.

  Britta caught Max, but when she put her down on the ground, one of the worst fathers Britta had ever known was long gone.

  When they were back in the kitchen, coffee brewing and open jars of honey out on the table, Britta asked, “Are you going to tell Charlie?
”

  “I don’t hide anything from Charlie. I just delay. So let her have her night with Berg, and we’ll tell her in the morning.”

  “She’s gonna be mad, huh?”

  “When it comes to my father, Charlie always ends up mad. Not because she’s irrational but because he’s an asshole.”

  “What do you think he really wanted?”

  “I have no idea. But the good news is, although it has to do with Stevie, it’s not Stevie herself. Honestly, that’s the first bit of good news we’ve gotten in a long time.”

  Britta ran her finger over the rim of her still-empty mug. “Are you guys going to run?”

  “No,” Stevie said from the kitchen doorway.

  “Go back to bed, Stevie,” Max said gently.

  “I’m up now.” Stevie walked over to the double coffeemaker, pulling off one of the carafes and coming back to the kitchen table. She filled up Britta’s and Max’s cups before getting her own from the cabinet and pouring coffee for herself. Once she put the carafe back, she asked, “When did we get a coffeemaker?”

  “I think that’s from Mrs. Fitzbaer,” Britta offered. “A thank-you for the cinnamon buns.”

  Stevie sat down at the table, across from her sister. “We’re not running,” Stevie told Max. “I’m tired of running. Besides,” she added, “Charlie’s happy here.” She thought a moment. “I’m happy here.” Another pause. “Kyle’s happy here. And he’s not happy anywhere.”

  “You do know we can’t adopt that kid, right?” Max asked.

  “Of course we can’t. He already has a family that loves him. He just makes them insane, so they need a break from him. I’m happy to help.” She peeked up at Max. “Do you want to run?”

  “Me?” Max grinned. “I’m a honey badger, bitch. I wanna stand my ground and beat the fuck out of anybody who crosses my path. But if something happened to you . . .”

  “Nothing is going to happen to me. I’ve got you and Charlie.” She leaned in a bit and, after glancing at Britta, she whispered, “And I’m surrounded by man-eating bears.”

  “Says the man-eating tiger.”

  Eyes narrowing on Britta, Stevie barked, “Stop freaking me out with that!”