Lowlander Silverback (Gray Back Bears #5)(11)

He was quiet for a long time, leaned against that tree, staring at her with an unfathomable expression. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but closed it again and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Okay, Layla. I’ll take you home.”

He sauntered off toward his car, leaving her to trail behind. And that’s when she saw it for the first time. The long, dark birthmark down his back that tapered into a smattering of constellation shapes just above his left hip.

The mark of the Kong.

Three years of adoring a man who wasn’t only separated from her by species, but by tradition as well.

The mark of the Kong said he wasn’t meant for her at all.





Chapter Four


The unfairness of it all socked Kong in the stomach and took his air. Layla was quiet and somber in the seat next to him as he drove her down the back roads toward Saratoga. As an apology, he wanted to hold her hand, gently even, if that’s what she needed. If he’d been born different, he wouldn’t be hurting her now. He could make her happy. Make her smile.

Every time he looked over at her, she was staring out the window with her arms clutched around her middle like she felt as gut-punched as he did right now. Her soft blond waves were covering most of her face, and his fingers itched to tuck the strand behind her ear and out of the way.

Something was wrong with him. Pairing up wasn’t supposed to be emotional. It was supposed to be learning to balance several female personalities as they figured out how to be a family group under him. It was supposed to be getting them pregnant when they went into heat and making sure they were safe and provided for. It was supposed to be detached. Eat, fight, sleep, screw.

So why had he, of all the males, latched onto a lone human female? It didn’t make any sense. Maybe it was because he’d been hanging around the bears too much. Watching each of them pair up with a mate they would go through life with, his heart had softened and changed. Now, he wanted a female to protect and love, too. He wanted one woman to bear him offspring. One woman who would let him hold his young and help raise them to be proper little gorillas.

He wanted Layla.

His mood darkened by the moment. His interest in the soft human beside him could get her killed, though, which in turn, would feel like it had killed him. God, he hoped he’d hidden her well enough on the way out of the barn. He hoped with everything he had that Rhett and Kirk hadn’t seen Layla there at his fight.

“This is me,” Layla said softly.

Kong leaned forward and studied the trio of beige bricked duplexes. The small complex was just outside of town, and behind the houses was tall pine wilderness. He cut the engine, and before she could escape, he said, “I was telling you to stop talking so I could focus. You were talking about banging on the hood of my car, and after fights, I’m already riled up. You’re right, though. Doesn’t matter the reason, I shouldn’t talk to you like that.”

Forcing his hand to be gentle, he tugged at her lobe and studied the cut near her earring. “I wanted to kill that *.”

She lifted her startled gaze to Kong, and her lips parted slightly. “Thanks for defending me.”

Always.

“Goodbye, Kong.” Layla got out of the car and Kong followed.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking you to your door.”

A baffled smile eased across her full lips. “Like at the end of a date?”

Kong laughed and ran his hand over his hair. “This is the closest I’ll ever get to one again.”

“Well,” she drawled out, staring thoughtfully at the door with the letter C on it. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? Or hot tea? I don’t really know what you can and can’t drink,” she murmured with a self-deprecating shake of her head.

She was so f*cking cute all shy around him now. Oh, she could charm customers at the bar when she had her bartender face on, but she’d never acted like that with him. With him, she seemed to walk on uneven ground, and he liked that she was off-balance when she was talking to him. He felt the same around her.

“Uhh,” he said, searching the street for Rhett or Kirk’s cars. If they had seen him leave with Layla, they hadn’t figured out where she lived yet. “I probably shouldn’t.”

“Right.” She nodded as though she’d expected that exact answer, and he hated himself for hurting her feelings again.

“Fuck it,” he murmured. “Hot tea sounds good.”

Her delicate eyebrows, just a shade darker than her blond hair, arched in surprise. “Really?”

“One date is all we have.” And he wasn’t ready by any means to say goodnight—and goodbye—to her yet. What was the harm in one mug of tea with her?

While she unlocked her door, he waited with his hands behind his back to fight the temptation to touch her.

“Don’t judge,” she said. “I didn’t know I was going to have company or I would’ve cleaned up.”

But when he stepped through the door, he had to check her face to see if she was being serious or not. The wood floors were swept and glossy under the pristine white couch. Colorful throw pillows were stacked neatly in place on the comfortable-looking cushions. There was a vase of fresh flowers on a coffee table that was made of planks of refurbished wood with iron accents. A small television was hung above the white brick fireplace, and on the small dining table off the kitchen was a matching vase of similar yellow flowers. Other than a stack of books piled off-kilter on the table, everything looked tidy.