Bloodrunner Bear (Harper's Mountains Book 2) (8 page)

“Did you add the extra gravy?” Alana asked, narrowing her eyes teasingly at the short-order cook who manned the kitchen of Drat’s Boozehouse. “Last time you forgot my extra gravy, and I still haven’t forgiven you, Carl.”

“Woman, let me live that down! Damn.” The stout, thin-haired man gave her a megawatt grin and said, “I added two sides of gravy just for you.”

Alana peeked into the paper bag and said, “Oooh, Carl, you’re an angel sent straight from heaven.”

“Uh oh,” the dark-headed man beside her said. “Extra gravy?”

“Don’t judge me, Kane.”

“No judgement here,” he said from behind his sunglasses. He always wore them, even at night, and even inside. Rumor was he had some scary-ass dragon eyes, but no one had actually seen his inner beast. Kane jerked his chin at the to-go bag on the counter. “The only time I’ve ever seen you order Carl’s chicken fried steak and extra gravy was because something had knocked you on your ass.”

“Okay, first off, aren’t bartenders supposed to be like therapists? Hush hush with their client’s problems and not rubbing them in their faces?”

Kane ran his hand through his dark hair, flipped it to the other side, and then looked up in the direction of the television behind the bar. Women’s soccer was on. “Well, I’m not a bartender anymore, so now I don’t have to mind those rules.”

Alana frowned and sank onto the barstool next to him. “Did you get fired?”

Kane chuckled and shook his head. “I was only picking up extra shifts for money.”

“For what? I’ve seen your shit-shack. It can’t be that expensive,” she said with a wink.

“Who’s judgmental now?” At least Kane’s smile was more genuine. “I was earning money to help out a friend.” He cleared his throat and amended, “I mean an ally. It’s complicated. Spill your gravy story, and I’ll buy you a drink. I need some entertainment other than my team getting their asses kicked by Germany.” He dragged his attention from the television to her. “Deal?”

Alana looked longingly at the exit. She’d planned a long night of eating her weight in carbs, snarfing rocky road ice cream out of the carton, giving herself a pedicure, and then watching a rom-com in her baggiest, most unflattering pajamas. But maybe this was good, unloading to a stranger. Sure, she’d known Kane for a couple years. Everyone knew everyone in a small town, but the supposed dragon shifter with the deep limp on one side was a bit of a mystery to everyone. He was notorious for being a good listener, but also for never sharing a single thing about himself. So, in that regard, he really was a stranger.

“Fine. I want a Whiskey Sour, and I want extra maraschino cherries.”

Kane snorted but gave her order to the new bartender whose nametag read
Bubba
.

Drat’s was hopping tonight, but it was always busy on Thursday nights. To keep her story quiet, she scooted closer to Kane and lowered her voice. “I fell into
like
with a guy, but he and I come from two totally different worlds.”

Kane’s face remained blank of the shock she’d expected from him, and he slurped loudly on what looked like an Old Fashioned. She’d thought her Romeo and Juliet-esque love scandal would’ve earned her at least an impressed eyebrow raise, but nope.

So she continued. “He’s like you—”

“Wait, what do you mean like me?”

“A…you know…shifter.”

“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing,” he said in an odd tone.

“Yeah, I get that now, but it hasn’t stopped my feelings for him. Which don’t even matter because he freaked out and left my house after we…kissed…and it’s been two days, and he hasn’t called or stopped by my café, nothing. Just, no contact. He cold-turkey cut me off.”

“Oookay, what’s his name?” Kane asked, his voice gravelly.

“Aaron.”

Kane had been in the middle of stirring his ice with two tiny straws, but froze at the name. “Aaron Keller?”

Alana scrunched up her nose. “Yeah.”

Kane huffed a surprised sound and then gave a come-hither gesture with a flick of his fingertips to a man readying to break the balls on one of the pool tables.

“I’m not your dog, Blackwing. Ask me politely,” said the musclebound man with the bright blue eyes as he leaned forward to line up his shot.

Kane muttered, “Fuckin’ asshole,” then a little louder, “can you please come here and clear something up?”

The clack of the pool balls breaking was so loud and powerful, Alana jumped. And then the giant muttered something much too low for Alana to hear, kissed a dark-headed woman waiting her turn, shoved a red-headed titan in the shoulder playfully, and sauntered over toward them.

“Holy balls, he’s coming this way.” In a whisper-scream, Alana told Kane, “I’m not discussing my life with someone I’ve never met before!”

“Wyatt James of the Bloodrunner Crew, this is Alana Warren of the human variety.”

Wyatt’s eyebrows went up, and he muttered, “Oh, shit!” And then he shook her hand hard enough to rattle her teeth together. “Nice to meet you. Aaron’s told us about you.” He twisted his torso and whistled sharply at the others while Alana rubbed her sore hand.

“So Aaron is in your crew?” she asked.

Wyatt nodded. “Her crew, actually.” He jerked his chin at the pretty brunette who was approaching with an easy smile.

“Your crew?” she asked, stunned. She’d never heard of a female alpha, but one look at her eyes, and Alana had the feeling this woman was much more than she seemed. She had one soft brown human eye, and a blue dragon eye.

“Harper,” she introduced herself. Her hand was hot as lava when Alana touched her, so she made it a quick shake and then cooled her palm on the ice-filled Whiskey Sour Bubba had just set in front of her.

“I’m Alana,” she murmured, shocked at meeting Aaron’s crew without him. This should probably be awkward because of Aaron’s finger-bang-and-run, but it wasn’t.

“I’m Ryder,” the redheaded giant introduced himself. But instead of shaking her hand, he stood beside her and held out his phone in front of them. “Smile,” he directed. “We’re gonna make Aaron so jealous.”

She gave a smile she was pretty sure looked like a grimace, the phone clicked, and Ryder went to poking buttons on his phone.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure Aaron won’t be jealous, though. We parted weirdly. He stopped talking to me.”

“He didn’t stop on purpose,” a man with bright green eyes and a camouflage baseball cap said from behind the others. “He’s out of town right now.”

“That’s Weston,” Wyatt said.

“Hi, Weston,” Alana said. “Wait. Weston. Wes? Are you a raven shifter?”

“How did you know?” Harper asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Weston shook his head in warning, and his eyes darkened, so Alana covered for him. Instead of tattling to his alpha about Weston the Peeping Raven, she shrugged and answered, “Just a lucky guess.”

“Aaron’s definitely jealous.” Ryder chortled with glee and held up his phone. There was a string of middle finger cartoons from someone called
Butt-Monkey
. Aaron, she would venture a guess.

She scrolled up and read Ryder’s first message. “Hey Aaron, I just found my future ex-girlfriend. Definitely a ten. Claimed.”

Alana laughed and shook her head as the others ordered drinks from Bubba.

When she turned around, Kane had moved down to the end of the bar and was watching the game again.

Wyatt followed her gaze. “He prefers solitude.”

There was something tragic about that, being in a bar full of people just like him but keeping himself separate.

“You said Aaron went out of town?” she asked Weston as he settled at the bar beside her.

“Asheville needed some volunteers at their fire department to cover for a bunch of the firefighters that got food poisoning. His Fire Chief sent him and Bryant up yesterday.”

Oh. “Well, he could’ve let me know what was going on.”

Weston pulled his phone from his back pocket and hit a speed dial number. “You don’t strike me as a woman who waits around for a man to call.”

Well, she wasn’t, but how Weston had come to that conclusion after just a few words between them, she had no clue. He slid his ringing phone over toward her.

“Hey, Wes,” a deep, familiar timbre answered.

In a rush, Alana scooped up the phone and said, “Hey.”

“Alana? Woman, do you ever pick up the phone at the coffee shop?”

“Well, no. It’s in the office, and I’m usually busy up front or in the kitchen.”

“I thought you were pissed at me and ignoring my calls on purpose. I didn’t have your cell number. Look, we need to talk. I’ve been going nuts up in Asheville thinking you hated me. I’m on my way back to Bryson City right now. Are you gonna be up late tonight?”

She sighed, expelling a hundred pounds of stress with the breath. He wasn’t mad at her, or ignoring her. He wasn’t shutting her out. Aaron had just been working. “Don’t you tease me and not show up. I have ice cream at the apartment and a pretty new nail polish. We can best-friend it.”

“Fuck the friends talk. You and I both know that’s off the table now.” Was that a spark of humor in his voice?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said coyly.

“Can I come over?” he asked.

Alana gave Weston a sideways glance, but he was busy talking to Ryder now. Softly, she murmured into the phone, “Come over me? I do believe you’ve already covered that base. Splurt splurt.”

Aaron blasted a single laugh, then lowered his voice. “Yeah, that escalated fast. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Static sounded through the speaker, like he was holding the phone to his shoulder. There was also faint talking in the background.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Filling up on gas. The attendant is looking at me right now like I’m about to rob the place.”

“Well, you look like a criminal.”

“Accept the tattoos, woman. They aren’t going anywhere. Say yes. Come on, Alana. Say yes.”

She could imagine him there, boot on the curb as the gas nozzle hung from the tank of his bike, the smile she heard in his voice stretching his lips as he waited for her answer.

She let him dangle for a moment before she gave in. “Fine. I’m not dressing up for you this time, though. You’ll have to win that effort back.”

“Great. Wear nothing. I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t let Ryder hug you.” Aaron swallowed audibly over the line, then said, “I like you.” And then the line went dead, as if he’d hung up before he could take it back.

A mushy squeal bubbled up her throat as she shrugged her shoulders up to her ears. He liked her!

Weston’s eyes were on her lips when she handed him his phone back and murmured her thanks.

There was a furrow of worry between his dark brows, but Weston was polite enough when he said, “You’re welcome.”

Over the next half an hour, she nursed her drink and settled in to the easy banter of the Bloodrunner Crew. She, Alana Warren, frail human, sat in the middle of a rough-and-tumble crew of shifters and held her own. And no one blatantly stared at the scar on her lip while she talked, and no one treated her any differently because she didn’t have an animal inside of her.

When she stood to leave, she pulled the money out of her pocket to pay for her to-go order. Aaron’s paperclip fell out onto the floor. “Oh no!” She knelt down to retrieve it, but Harper squatted down in a blur and picked up the old rusty trinket first.

Harper got the strangest expression on her face as she stared at it. “Is this Aaron’s?” she asked as soft as a whisper.

“He gave it to me.”

Harper’s unnerving eyes jerked up to hers, and a slow smile spread across her lips. “Do you know what this is?”

She thought it was just a little piece of trash he’d given her from his pocket on a whim, but from the way Harper was acting, perhaps it was something bigger. Alana shook her head.

“When Aaron was a kid, he would collect little treasures. And the first time he met his dad, he gave him a paperclip. And big old dominant Breck Crew alpha, Cody Keller, still carries that old paperclip wherever he goes.” Harper pressed the bent metal into Alana’s palm and closed her fist around it. “Aaron started carrying this one when he figured out how much it meant to his dad, and it’s been his good luck charm ever since. We all used to tease him about it as a kid, but he didn’t care. If he gave it to you, you’re something special, Alana.” Harper helped her up and held out her palm.

“You want the paperclip?” Alana asked, confused. She definitely wasn’t going to part with it now, or ever, after Harper had enlightened her what it really meant to Aaron.

“Nope. Your phone.”

Alana pulled it out of her purse and handed it to Harper so fast she almost dropped it.

Harper fiddled on there for a couple minutes and then handed it back. “Now you have all of our numbers, including Aaron’s. He’s my cousin, and I was kind of afraid he would never like someone like this. I was scared he would never connect, you know?” Harper hugged Alana’s shoulders tight, warming her skin with just the brief embrace. “You call me if you ever need anything.”