Boarlander Silverback (Boarlander Bears #3)(9)

Clear as mud. She didn’t understand all the riddles about Kirk. What was he having a hard time with? And why the hell would he ask a favor of the dragon for her? Damon didn’t seem to want to discuss it further, though, so she nodded once, exposed her neck, and said, “Yes. We’re clear.”

And as Damon escorted her back through the woods, it dawned on her that this meeting hadn’t clarified anything.

It had only made her more confused about her role here and these secretive people who lived in Damon’s trailer parks. And most of all, she was baffled by the mysteries surrounding Kirk.

He felt important, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why.





Chapter Five


Kirk got halfway down Damon’s drive when he slammed on his brakes and skidded to a stop. Why had he done that? Getting close to Ally had caused him to push her away hard. Everything in him wanted to get to know her better, but the more he learned, the more he felt like running. She felt dangerous. Not physically, but inside of him, deep in his chest. She had the power to rile him up, and that was a problem for him, as well as her.

But as much as he wanted to escape the drugged sensation she gave him, he couldn’t leave her to walk home and, sure as shit, Damon wasn’t going to get her there safely. The only reason he was meeting with her was because Kirk had asked.

And now he was sitting here going over their conversation in his mind and wondering why his emotions were swinging so wide around her.

Okay, he was pissed, but why? Sure she’d pegged him all wrong and assumed he was just some * chasing women, but he’d pegged her wrong, too. So wrong. An orphan, raised in a girls’ home, getting into trouble, and all those damned tattoos made more sense now. He wondered if she got them before or after spending time undercover. Narcotics? Holy f*ck, she had seen things. Probably awful things, and now it dawned on him that she was confusing his senses because maybe she was broken.

Just like him.

“Fuck,” he yelled, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. He should run. He should’ve never begged her a meeting with Damon or gotten involved at all. He should’ve left her alone, but she was so damned intriguing. His animal had been a beast to deal with since she’d shot him.

And what did that say about him? Every time he thought about her, or spent time around her, his inner animal drew up and pined to be closer to the woman who’d blasted a bullet into his shoulder. For f*ck’s sake, he was even more messed up than he’d realized. He should go back to the Lowlanders down in Saratoga and far away from Alison Holman. Ally. She’d given him permission to use a name she liked. A name for friends, and what had he done? Got desperate, got scared, got mean. Typical Kirk. That’s exactly why Fiona hadn’t trusted him to run a family group. That’s why she had assigned him to guard Kong and ready him to head a family group instead. Kong was always the better option.

No, it wasn’t right for him to get jealous. Kong had never asked for that kind of treatment and, hell, if anyone was in the wrong, it was Kirk for accepting a bodyguard position. He’d kept Kong miserable for years. He f*cking deserved to have an interesting, beautiful woman dangled in front of his face, only to realize she was broken. He wasn’t the kind of man who could fix anyone. He was shit mate material, and Ally would be better off without him complicating her life.

But, damn it all, “complicated” was so tempting right now.

The way she’d said “Fuck you” had given him a massive boner that was still at full mast, even though he was still pissed at himself, at fate. Of course his gorilla would choose an unattainable, messed up mate who had seen too much grit to ever really know how to love. Of course he would pick a mate two f*ckin’ weeks after human-shifter pairings were declared illegal. He wanted to laugh and scream and break everything. More proof he was losing his mind.

But no matter how hard his feelings were churning, Ally still needed an escort out of these mountains. Not because he thought the crews were dangerous to her, but because he didn’t want her getting lost or stumbling onto some unknown danger in the wild woods of Damon’s mountains. Yeah, see? Add overprotective to the list of disastrous traits his gorilla had adopted since he’d seen her that first night.

He pulled a U-turn and drove back up to Damon’s half-finished mansion and came to a stop before the clearing because, dammit, he had to play this cool. He couldn’t seem like an overeager puppy with a lady like Ally. She was flighty. Her career said as much. He bet she could shut down on people the second she wanted to.

Kirk cut the engine and relaxed back against the seat, waiting to see her again.

Ten minutes later, Ally crested a mound of scorched earth, her frown directed at the ashes around her feet. He couldn’t give much of himself, but he could give her an explanation on what had happened to Damon’s lair. But then again, he had to be careful with the information he offered. She was here for a reason, and one he didn’t understand or like, and if she was here to spy on the shifters, he had to make sure she was trustworthy before he gave her anything.

She wore light-wash jeans that hugged her hips and thighs. She’d worn her uniform the first night she’d tried to save Emerson, but she seemed much more comfortable in the jeans and figure-hugging black cotton shirt she wore. Her shirt had bunched behind the gold badge that glinted from the waist of her jeans, showing a tiny patch of fair skin on her stomach. Fuck, his fingers itched to touch her there. Ally probably hadn’t had much use for a uniform before if she’d worked undercover.