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.
If she left him, it would hurt deeply.
“I missed you,” she admitted in an emotional whisper.
He drew back and cupped her face, his brows lowering, worry pooling in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Her voice would tremble, so she shook her head and kissed him again. The noise from the eighteen-wheeler was deafening now against her oversensitive ears, so she covered them with her palms as Harrison shook Kirk’s hand and pulled him in for a mannish hug and resounding back clap. She was glad he was much gentler with her.
The big rig came into view as Bash and Clinton filed out of Harrison’s Chevy, and together, they stared in confusion as a truck pulling an old singlewide trailer behind it rumbled slowly through the park. With the hiss of brakes, the massive semi came to a stop in front of them, and Beaston rolled down the window. “I come bearing gifts.”
A dark-headed man leaned over and gave a two fingered wave.
“Hey, Mason,” Harrison said. He eyed the mobile home Beaston was dragging. “You know we have a trailer for you here, right?”
“Oh, this isn’t for Mason,” Beaston said. “My alpha and the alpha of the Ashe Crew are giving this to you.”
“To me?” Harrison asked.
“No.” Beaston jammed a finger at Audrey. “It’s a gift for her.”
Mason hopped out of the passenger’s side of the truck, and Beaston pulled on through.
Stunned, Audrey looked at the old cream-colored mobile home with its dark shutters and painted red door. It looked like a squirrel had tried to chew a hole through it to get in. But when she saw the crooked numbers by the doorframe, 1010, chills blasted across her arms. She rubbed her hands over her forearms to warm herself up, and beside her, the tall, dark-eyed boar shifter gave her an odd, knowing smile.
“That old trailer is magic. Take good care of her, and she’ll take good care of you.”
“Oh, but I don’t live here.”
“Uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” Harrison said, his frown still following the progress of the trailer to the end of the road.
“Do you want to be a Boarlander?” Bash asked excitedly and way too loud.
“Bash!” Harrison reprimanded.
“Sorry.”
Audrey giggled and pressed her cool palms against her cheeks.
Rolling his eyes heavenward, Harrison muttered, “Excuse us for a minute.” He gripped her elbow, then led her closer to his trailer and away from the others.
“Look, I asked you to come by
for a reason. That hotel you’re staying in is thirty-five bucks a night. That’s over a thousand dollars a month, and I know you can’t stick around and keep paying that.” Harrison stepped closer and pulled her hands away from her face. He gripped her fingers as he smiled and lowered his voice. “And every time I think about you leaving, I get this panicky feeling, like I’d be losing a piece of me that I only just found, you know? I’m not asking you to move in with me or to pledge under me. I know it’s too early for that, but I want you here. For a day or for a week. I’ll take whatever time you’re willing to give me.”
“But I don’t know if I belong here. I’m different than you and the others, Harrison. I’m a tiger, not a lumberjack werebear.”
“And he’s a gorilla,” Harrison said, pointing to Kirk, “and he’s a boar.” He pointed to Mason. “And I’m yours. I’m asking you to stay, Audrey. Here. With me. You don’t have to pledge to my crew. Just…stay.”
“In ten-ten,” she said on a breath as she looked at where Beaston was settling it at the end of the road. It did look inviting with the pink sunset and piney mountains behind it.
Harrison cupped her cheek and kissed her, then eased back by inches. “I wish I could give you more, but this is all I have—a shitty old trailer park, a half-crazed crew of idiots, and this.” He pressed her palm against his chest, right over his drumming heartbeat.
“But what about Clinton?”
“I already talked to him about the changes that will be happening. About you.” Sadness washed through his eyes. “Clinton will have to be fine with it.”
But when Audrey looked for Clinton, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
Harrison sighed. “He’ll get used to this. Just like you, Kirk, and Mason will have to adjust to life here. Clinton doesn’t like change, but I have to fix things, and it won’t happen without a complete shake-up. You’re part of that. Not the hard part. The good part.” Harrison grinned and dropped down to one knee.
“What are you doing, ridiculous man. Get up.”
“I’m on my knees, begging you, kitty. Pick this place. Pick me.”
Her eyes prickled with tears as she looked around Harrison’s dilapidated trailer park.
This could be her home. This could be where she grew her roots deep and strong.
She could be happy here.
Dashing her knuckles under her eye to catch a tear, she nodded. “Okay.”
Harrison stood in a blur and cupped her neck, pressed his lips against hers. She’d thought because of the growl in his throat he would be rough, but his mouth moved surprisingly gently over hers. As he eased away and rested his forehead on hers, he whispered, “I’ll make you happy here, Audrey. I’ll give you a good crew, I promise.”
And she heard it. That strong, steady tone that he’d told her to listen for.
Down to her marrow, she knew that Harrison—her Harrison—was telling the truth.
Chapter Ten
Audrey ducked out of the way as Mason hustled out of 1010 with an armload of lumber. Beaston had settled the old trailer on a concrete pad at the end of the road, facing the entrance, and overlooking the rest of the park.
“Oh, sorry,” she murmured, dodging Bash as he filed out of 1010 balancing an impressive stack of what looked and smelled like fresh cut two-by-sixes.
Bash adjusted the stack and ruffled her hair as he walked by, his grin catching. At least one of the Boarlanders was happy she was here. Clinton was still nowhere to be seen.
“Ten-ten looks best with a deck,” Beaston said from right behind her.
Audrey jumped and clutched her chest. Thanks to her animal, she wasn’t often snuck up on, but Beaston was scary quiet.
He stood right behind her with his arms clasped behind his back. “I want to help build it for you, but I have to get back to Ana. She’s pregnant.” Pride tinged the last part.
“I know. I felt the baby move last night, remember?”
“Yeah, I just like saying it. She’s having my raven boy. I don’t like to be away from her.”
She ducked her smile. Beaston always sounded snarly unless he was talking about his Ana. Then his voice went all soft.
“We’ll build the deck,” she said. “You go on back to your mate and tell her ‘hi’ from me.”
Beaston jerked his head in a nod and turned for the now empty big rig, waiting in the middle of the gravel road.
“Beaston?” she asked.
He turned with a frown on his face. “What?”
With a sigh, she approached and put her arms around his shoulders carefully. “Thank you.”
Beaston froze under her hug. “For what?”
“For helping me get to Harrison at Sammy’s bar last week. For bringing ten-ten.” She squeezed harder. “For seeing more than other people do.”
Beaston softened and lifted his hands to her back, then pulled her close for a moment. Head cocked and green eyes blazing, he gave her a half smile and walked away. Over his shoulder, he asked, “Do you like knives?”
“Uuuh,” she stumbled. “I used to carry a pocket knife.”
He climbed up the eighteen-wheeler and hung from the door. “Good,” he murmured just before he climbed in behind the wheel. He stuck his head out the window. “I almost forgot. Nards lives in ten-ten. Don’t hurt him.” Engine roaring, the truck drove slowly away and back under the park sign. Beaston was a bit of a wild bear, and an odd one, too, but she liked him.
Harrison wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his chin on top of her head as they watched the truck disappear through the trees. “You ready to see your trailer?”
The boys were going in and out like a line of worker ants, but she and Harrison ducked inside between them. Kirk grinned as he scooped the last bunch of wood. “There she is. Queen of the trailer park, queen of our hearts.”
Audrey snorted and crouched down when Kirk swung the wood wide to angle it toward the door. When he left, only she and Harrison remained. He shut the door gently and watched her face with an expression that said it mattered what she thought of this place.
The walls were painted white, and the dark laminate wood floors under her feet felt a little squishy. The couch, kitchen table, and chairs were all bound together for the journey in the middle of the living room, and to the left, a white-washed country kitchen with faux wood countertops bisected the living space and a bedroom. She giggled at a miniature refrigerator that took up roughly a third of the space for a full-sized one.
“We’ll get you a big one,” Harrison promised.
“This one is fine for now. It’s just me in here. This place is a lot bigger than I thought.”
“Yeah, you’ll have the biggest trailer in the park.”
“My castle,” she murmured, glowing from the inside out with pleasure.
The kitchen was full of boxes, all bound together, and when she opened one, there were dishes packed neatly. When she meandered through the kitchen, touching the smooth countertop as she went, and made her way into the bedroom, she was shocked into stillness, right there in the doorway. The bedroom was huge. It had a built-in dresser and a queen-size bed. The mattress was bare, but a stack of sheets and a thick cream and blue floral comforter was folded neatly in the middle and bound with thick twine. The linens smelled good, like fresh breeze laundry detergent, and as she made her way to the bathroom on the other side, she couldn’t contain her grin. There was a washer and a dryer inside, right across from the sink.
“You like it?” Harrison asked.
“This is going to sound silly, but I haven’t had my own washer and dryer before. When I moved out of my dad’s trailer, I was living in this tiny apartment that didn’t have hookups, so I’ve used a Laundromat for years.” With a happy sigh, she turned and leaned on the door frame. “I love it.” She looked up at the slightly sagging ceiling and shrugged. “I can’t explain it, but this place feels homey to me.”
“You’re an amazing woman, Audrey,” Harrison said from where he rested his hip against
the built-in dresser. “I never imagined a lady would be okay living out here in my park. Not the way it is.”
Audrey made her way to the bed and untied the linens. “Yeah, well, I can see the potential. I feel like I’m coming in right on the cusp of huge changes. It’s exciting that I’ll be here to see what you do with this park. With your people.”
“You feel like my people, too,” Harrison said low, eyes on the sheets as he helped her to cover the mattress.
Dragons flapped around in her belly at his admission, and she had to bite back her grin because he looked so serious and lost in thought right now. She snuck glances at him as they made the bed. His powerful arms flexed against his thin white T-shirt, and she could make out the definition of his muscular chest. His thick neck led up to a two-day sexy scruff on his jaw, and his eyes were that dark evening blue that she’d fallen in love with. There was a cut on his forearm, but it was already healed and the thin line of blood dried, and his hair was all mussed, likely from the hardhat he wore on his shift. Bed made, she jumped up and landed starfish-style on the plush mattress. For an old trailer, the Ashe Crew and Gray Backs hadn’t skimped on furnishings. This bed would be like sleeping on a cloud.
“I make a nest every night,” she admitted.
“Like a bird?” Harrison asked, amusement in his tone as he lay down beside her.
“No, like a badass tiger. I pile pillows all around me. That’s what makes me feel safe enough to sleep. I’m a light sleeper because I hear everything. Did you know my hearing is even better than yours? I researched it.”
Harrison chuckled and pulled her in close. “That sucks.”
“What I’m saying is, maybe you don’t have to bear all the burden of making sure this place is safe at night.”
Harrison frowned at her and plucked absently at a wayward strand of hair that had fallen against her cheek. “What do you mean?”
Audrey rested her chin against his chest so she could see his face better. “I mean, I can help you patrol the territory if you want. Then you can sleep more.”