Boarlander Beast Boar (Boarlander Bears #4)(43)

Beck’s face hurt from smiling so wide. Fluffing up the pillow under her cheek, she watched Mason sit up in bed and run his hand sleepily through his hair, spiking it up in all directions. The shiny scar of her claiming mark contrasted with his smooth skin.

“You know you don’t have to get up with him every morning,” she murmured. “I’m more used to it than you.”

Mason snorted. “Bull. I’m a logger. I’m no stranger to early mornings. Besides…I read women biologically require more sleep than men.”

She believed him. When she’d sat down at the computer yesterday to answer emails, there had been a tab open. Mason had been searching the Internet for how to make a woman happy. And let her sleep in was number five on the page he’d pulled up.

She giggled and squeezed his hand as he stood. Mason gave her one of those sexy sleepy smiles as he pulled a pair of low-riding gray sweatpants over his briefs. No shirt for him, and it wasn’t lost on her that Ryder had begun to ask to sleep without a shirt at night, too. He watched everything Mason did.

Watching them together over the past week had broken her heart wide open. After she got up and readied for the day, she knew what she would find when she padded into the kitchen. The first streaks of gray dawn were filtering through the small window over the kitchen sink, and in the dim light, her boys stood side by side in front of the stove. One stood so tall and strong, his head almost touched the low ceiling, and one, her little mini-me, stood on a red stepstool Mason had picked up at the store.

Her heart caught in her throat like it did every day that began like this. Silently, she rested her shoulder against the fridge and listened to them.

“Don’t get too close to the hot coil now, boy. You’ll singe your feathers, and your mom will have my hide.”

“What’s a hide?”

Mason poked Ryder’s bony arm. “A hide means skin.”

“Pigs have thick skins. Momma told me so.”

As Mason stirred the eggs he was scrambling in the pan, he chuckled that deep sound that said he really enjoyed being around Ryder.

“Well, your mom’s a wise woman, and she’s right. When I’m Changed, it’s hard to hurt me.”

“I wish I was a pig shifter.”

“Nah, boy. You’ll see the value in your owl the older you get. I wish I could fly like you will someday. You want to fly like your mom, don’t you?”

“But won’t I be scared so high up?”

“Maybe the first time. It’s okay to be scared, as long as you don’t let it take you over.”

“Can I crack an egg?”

“You think you’re ready?”

Ryder arched his head way back to look at Mason and nodded once. “I’m ready.”

“Do it in the bowl then.”

Ryder smashed it into the bowl, and Mason laughed. “Pick out the shells.”

“With my fingers? Grandma Junebug says I shouldn’t touch eggs.”

“Well, don’t touch them at Grandma Junebug’s house, but here you can touch them as long as you wash your hands after.”

Ryder peeled into giggles as he picked through the slippery egg to chase shell fragments.

“Use those little talons, boy,” Mason teased.

“Hoo hoo,” Ryder said in a barely audible voice as he dug harder.

Mason let out a loud, booming laugh.

God, it felt so good to hear Ryder talking openly about his animal. It hadn’t ever been like that for him before and, apparently, he needed this acceptance, because ever since he’d come to the Boarland Mobile Park, he’d asked so many questions about his shifter side. Her little boy had garnered the fealty of every one of the Boarlanders in a matter of hours, and what an incredible experience for Beck to watch him fit in here. To watch the wariness in his eyes fade away. To watch him smile so often.

He hadn’t asked about Robbie much, but when Beck had watched Mason tuck him in bed last night, she’d overheard Ryder tell him, “My dad doesn’t like me.” Mason had gone quiet for a minute as he tucked the comforter in all around him. Then he’d sighed and told him, “Your dad cares about you. He just doesn’t know how to show it. But you know what? I like you.” Ryder had nodded his little head and rolled over and hugged his favorite blanket tight. And just before Mason left the little guest room they’d set up for him, Ryder had murmured, “I like you, too.”

And then Beck had gone outside and bawled her eyes out in the woods because her heart had been so touched by that tender moment. When she’d claimed Mason, she’d thought she couldn’t love him more than in that moment. But then he’d been patient and tender with her, and she thought she couldn’t love him anymore than in that moment. And then she’d seen him with Ryder…and she fell in love with him all over again, every day.

As they sat down for breakfast, chattering away about plans for the day, there was a commotion outside, and Clinton yelled out, “Mason! Beck!”

“What the hell?” Mason muttered.

“What the hell?” Ryder repeated, sliding off his chair.

“Don’t say ‘hell,’” Mason and Beck both said at the same time.

Mason made it to the door first and muttered a curse at whatever he saw outside. Beck was mighty tempted to repeat said curse the second she saw the patrol car flashing its lights right in the middle of Boarland Mobile Park. The Boarlanders were gathered around a pair of uniformed police officers, and from the looks of it, Ally was giving them hell.