Boarlander Beast Boar (Boarlander Bears #4)(16)

Beck opened the door of 1010, and her eyes immediately locked onto him. With a boner-inducing smile, she lifted her hand and waved. Mason’s heart beat against his chest. If that woman even knew how his beast was laying claim to her, she would run away as fast as those long, sexy legs could carry her.

He nodded a greeting and twitched his head, inviting her over. She should see this—the good, bad, and ugly. She should see the celebration at him moving back in, sure, but she should also see the shit the Boarlanders would give him for leaving in the first place.

She’d said she felt weird around the crew, and that had to change. Mason needed her to fit in here for selfish reasons, and he didn’t give a single f*ck what that said about him.

“Mason!” Bash yelled at the top of his lungs. He waved his arms all around like Mason could possibly miss the titan hanging out the window of Harrison’s eye-scorching red pickup.

Mason waved back and jogged down the stairs to the new sod on his front lawn.

The trucks skidded to a stop, kicking up dust, and the Boarlanders piled out of them like an ant colony hunting a cherry flavored sucker. Mason couldn’t help his laugh when Bash picked him off the ground and slapped him on the back hard enough to beat the air from his lungs.

“You C-Team again?” Bash asked, his voice heartbreakingly hopeful. “Tell me you’re movin’ back, Mace!”

“I’m back, Bash Bear. I ain’t leavin’ again.”

Bash let off a long relieved sob, and his shoulders shook as he hugged him harder.

“Aw, come on, ya big crybaby,” Kirk said, peeling Bash off Mason. “Let him breathe.”

Mason stumbled to his feet and winced as the gorilla shifter gripped his shoulder hard enough to grind his bones. “Leave again, and I’ll kill you.” Kirk had said it through an easy smile, but his voice was completely serious and utterly believable.

Harrison pulled him in for a manly, painful hug, but the girls were much gentler, holding on longer, wiping the corners of their eyes after releasing him. And then Beck was there, eyes full of emotion, and that’s how Mason knew she was a good one. She was affected by a dynamic she knew little about. She was rooting for him already. Rooting for all of them.

Before he could change his mind, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead, then released her and grinned at her baffled smile. She looked drunk as a skunk, and all he had to do was hug her. God that felt good—having a woman like Beck react to a simple touch from a man like him. He had to get better. Had to, because she wouldn’t settle for a broken man. She deserved better. Everything faded away as her full lips curved up in that smile he was falling in love with. She was the prize. If he worked hard enough, and long enough, maybe she would open up her heart to him. He couldn’t offer her much, but he would treat her a helluva lot better than her ex if she gave him half a chance. He had to earn that chance first, though.

“You know how obnoxious this one is?” Bash asked, rubbing his giant hand over Beck’s hair, mussing her gold-red curls. “She gave us one of them itittyaries—”

“Itineraries,” Emerson corrected.

“And then Beck said we have to take sexy lumberjack pictures for some calendar and told us to manscape. Manscape!” Bash doubled over with a single bellowing laugh. “I had to Internet-search what that even meant. Emerson gots to shave my chest tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, my God,” Harrison groaned, scrubbing his hand down his entire face.

“I ain’t doin’ it!” Clinton said from the outskirts of the group. “I don’t want to be part of some project to get the ladies all masturbating while they’re looking at my sexy body. No thank you.”

“Well, you have to,” Kirk said lightly. “Damon and Cora said we need to do what Beck says, so if you want that paycheck to pay for all the pointless shit you buy, you can take a picture.”

“Well,” Beck cut in, her cheeks blazing a shade of red Mason had never seen on a human before, “the idea is to garner positive attention. We’ll give all the proceeds to a charity you choose. I’ll build it up real big online because the ladies in this country can be a powerful ally. They are outspoken about what they like, and they can give us a huge push in votes for reinstating shifter rights. So them—touching themselves if that’s what they want to do—is good because that means they would see you as men and not animals.”

“Ew.” Clinton crossed his arms and looked grumpy. “When you say ‘touching themselves,’ it sounds pervy. Just say masturbate. That’s what it is.”

Beck’s eyes went dead, like she wouldn’t be baited.

Clinton got a predatory smile. “Say it, and I’ll take one picture. Come on, publicist. Have a little fun. Say masturbate.”

Beck was the color of a cherry and gritted her teeth. With an impressive eye roll, she gritted out, “Masturbate. And now you’ll be January.”

“What’s January?” Clinton asked suspiciously.

“You’ll be up against your fancy new truck, half-naked, wearing your hard hat, ripping your chainsaw in front of your crotch. And the photographer I hired will be taking your picture at the crack of dawn so it looks colder. You’ll be up first.”

Clinton scowled but didn’t argue, and that was some progress right there.