Boarlander Boss Bear (Boarlander Bears #1)(24)

Clinton had given a compliment for the first time since Harrison had met him, but it sounded an awful lot like a goodbye.





Chapter Nine




On Harrison’s porch stairs, Audrey drew her knees up closer to her chest so she could rest the paperwork onto her legs to read it. Today was a tank top and cutoff jean shorts kind of day, so she smiled at the memory of being offered a job at Moosey’s Bait and Barbecue. She hadn’t exactly been dressed for an interview. Moosey’s was nestled in the mountains, located about half an hour before Boarland Mobile Park. Since she was getting here way early and on an empty stomach, she’d stopped in and bought a brisket sandwich.

The joint had been busy, but the owner, Joey Dorsey, had sat down at her table and asked if she had any experience with the service industry. They’d talked for a while, and then he’d brought her an application and told her he was looking for a new full-time server.

The only problem was her confusion on where she fit in this place. Her hotel was down in Saratoga, and she wasn’t about to beg a trailer here. Not with Clinton so volatile.

Last night, after Aviana and Beaston had said she would hurt Clinton, she’d gotten a sick feeling deep in her gut as Harrison had driven her back to the hotel. Clinton and Bash had been silent in the backseat of the truck, but the alpha had talked on happily and held her hand.

She would hurt him if she left here and went back to Buffalo Gap, but she was beginning to think she would hurt him worse if she stayed. Audrey didn’t want to be the last fissure that shattered the frail foundation of the Boarlanders.

The throaty rumble of a car sounded from far off, and her pulse quickened with the thought of seeing Harrison again. Today had felt like the longest day of her life. From the second she’d gotten a call from him earlier, she’d been so ready to feel his arms around her so he could banish all her melancholy thoughts about leaving.

She wouldn’t tell him about the job offer at Moosey’s. They weren’t ready for her to put down roots like that yet, so she jogged over to her Jeep and shoved the application in the glovebox.

The vehicle wasn’t Harrison’s, though. Instead, a classic, forest green Mustang with black racing stripes roared under the Missionary Impossible sign.

She hooked her hand on her hip and waved to the smiling familiar face behind the wheel. Kirk pulled to a stop, his brakes not even letting off a squeak. This was a shifter who took good care of his old muscle car. The dark-eyed man with the longer hair rolled down the window and rested his arm on the ledge. Yanking his sunglasses off, he looked her up and down. “I know you. I saw you at the bar the other night.”

“I’m Audrey,” she introduced herself, offering her hand for a shake.

She liked that he didn’t give her a limp handshake like some men did.

“Kirk, honorary Boarlander.” He released his firm grip on her palm, then ducked his gaze under his lowered sun visor and whistled at the dilapidated park.

“It could use some work,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “Harrison and the boys aren’t off their shift yet, but I can help you move your stuff if you want.”

Kirk sniffed the air. “Are you a shifter?”

With a cheeky grin, she said, “Maybe.”

“Hmm. And you swear you aren’t just being polite? You don’t mind moving me in?”

“Nah, it’ll give me something to do while I wait.”

“Sa-weet.” Kirk pulled up a piece of scribbled paper and scanned it quick. “I’m in trailer six.”

Squinting, Audrey pointed at the first trailer on the left, directly across the gravel road from Harrison’s. The number six had disappeared off the siding near the broken porch light, but the chipped paint still showed the discolored outline of the number. “There she be. At least you have a door.”

“Well, that is a bright side, I guess,” Kirk said with a good-natured chuckle.

She liked him already. At least he wasn’t pitching a tantrum at moving into an ancient singlewide with weed landscaping.

He took a wide birth and backed onto the cracked concrete pad in front of trailer six. He hadn’t brought much, just enough boxes to fill his back seat and trunk, so she stacked two of them in her arms and followed him up the sagging porch stairs and through the waterlogged front door. The inside, like Harrison’s, surprised her. It was clean and fixed up. Even the floors felt sturdy where she’d expected them to be rotted straight through. Also like Harrison’s trailer, there was a kitchen on the left, a bedroom beyond that, and a large living room that took up the space on the right side.

“It’s better than I expected,” Kirk murmured. “Set the boxes down over there, if you don’t mind,” he directed her, twitching his chin to a two-seater couch. “I’ll unpack them later.”

By the time Kirk’s belongings were unloaded into the living room, the sound of Harrison’s truck echoed through the valley, and something much bigger, too. An eighteen wheeler, perhaps.

Harrison pulled his giant pickup in front of his trailer and locked eyes immediately with her. He’d looked troubled, almost pained the instant before, but as she jogged down Kirk’s stairs, his lips curved into a stunning smile.

She ran to him and caught him just as he got out. He hugged her tight and lifted her feet off the ground, then angled his head and kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in a week instead of just a day. Just a day. That term didn’t mean the same as it did a week ago, when each day looked just like the next, and just like the one before.