Hometown Pride, page 3
He stared at her and she met his eyes again, showing some of that defiance. He was angry, but not at her. She wondered why she could tell.
“Give me your phone number,” he ordered.
“Why?”
He rolled his eyes. “So I can sell it to telemarketers. Why do you think?”
She rattled it off while he was still pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He made her repeat it, poking at his screen with one big finger, then sent her a text. Her phone pinged in the distance where she’d left it by the bathroom sink.
He narrowed his eyes. “Call me when you’re ready to move your furniture.”
She’d already half-forgotten he’d offered to store her stuff. “OK.”
He shrugged. “My brother-in-law has a truck.”
She nodded. She’d seen Tremaine’s truck with the camper shell on the back and, presumably, his tools inside, and couldn’t imagine fitting her whole life in that.
“He hates when people ask him to help them move, but he’ll lend it to me. Might even help unload at my house. But he’s kind of an ass.”
“Everyone’s kind of an ass, according to you.” Not that she didn’t agree.
He splayed his hands in an exaggerated shrug. “I have reasons for being only a step away from loner.”
And he pecked her on the cheek and was gone, shutting her door softly behind himself. She didn’t hear a car start, which made her realize he must have walked from somewhere or she would have heard him coming, even over the sounds of herself coming. Heh.
What The Hell?
She went in search of her phone, but instead of replying to Tremaine call me, she pulled on her big girl panties, hoped Macey was done with her work for the day, and texted her best friend Looking 4 a new job.
Her phone rang a few seconds later.
“Fuck me, Angel! I was hoping Lipstick would quit before you did. She thinks she’s too big for that library, she can go find another fucking library and take that cheating asshole with her.”
Angelica sighed. “This is why I love you, Macey.”
Macey laughed. “You mean you’re finally going to go gay for me?”
Angelica sighed and thought of Tremaine’s freight-train-sized erection. “Don’t even tease. I’m not your type and I won’t be breaking your heart when I say I might have one more chance to make babies.”
She narrated her day, her friend injecting sarcasm where necessary. This was exactly what she needed. If she hadn’t known Macey had been following a doctor on rounds at a hospital that evening, she would have called sooner. Instead, she’d had a wank in the bath and a bowl of ice cream provided by a confusing, cranky lion.
Angelica hesitated, though, when she got to the part with the ice cream. Macey was silent for a few seconds. “And then?”
“And then he offered to help me move and store my stuff at his house, I gave him my phone number, and he took his lemon sherbet home in his cooler.”
“Mmmm,” was Macey’s only comment.
“OK, so...he kissed me.”
Macey cackled. “I knew it!”
“You didn’t know anything. There wasn’t anything to know!” Angel’s face was hot thinking of the heat of his shoulders under her hands. Her body wasn’t going to forget any time soon the press of his body against hers. The press of his cock against her hip.
“Keep telling yourself that,” said Macey. “You’ve complained to me every single time he came into the library. How many other people have you told me about, hmm?”
It hadn’t been every single time, just... most of the time. And she’d been complaining. Hadn’t she? She was suddenly deflated, thinking about her precious library and not seeing Tremaine, not seeing the babies, not seeing the moms, not seeing people happy about books and computers, not seeing kids finding something cool to read and requesting the entire series. The shouting teenagers who sassed her, she wouldn’t miss. Not much, anyway. She wanted to cry again.
Macey went on. “You should totally get out of that shit hole and move to Vermont. I mean, there’s other Freight Trains on the tracks, right?”
She sighed. Tremaine had confused the hell out of her, that was for sure. He would not be an easy lion to have a relationship with. They’d tear each other apart. “I can’t say I’m not thinking about it.”
Chapter three
“The exceptions include loners, who nonetheless are still pride members on paper and in their hearts, and those who integrate into other prides, or, more rarely, mate with another species of shifter that has a pack structure. Typically, a shifter who mates with a human or with a non-pack shifter will bring him or her home to the pride.” Renard et al, 2025, p133-157.
Normally, Tremaine set his phone down somewhere until he needed it and had to retrace his steps or give up and call it from someone else’s phone. Normally, he left it at home half the time, not even thinking about it. Normally, he turned it off and only turned it on reluctantly and long enough to see if he had missed anything important.
So when it buzzed in his back pocket halfway through the superhero movie he was watching with his sister and brother-in-law, they were surprised when he hopped up and jogged up the aisle to answer instead of turning it off.
“Angelica?”
“Tremaine? Why are you whispering? Whoa! What just exploded?”
He slipped out of the theater into the harshly-lit corridor that smelled of old popcorn and feet, cleared his throat, and spoke in normal tones. “Just until I got out of the movie theater. How can I help you?”
“I need to move out this week. Lipstick and Braindead want to move in over the weekend.”
“Lipstick? And…oh.” Lyssa and Bradley. “Right. I guess Ella decreed they should have the house since you don’t need it.”
She sighed. “They said you were smart.”
“Who said that?” he joked, to zero laughter. “Yeah, well, you told me they were getting the house, so it didn’t take a lot of figuring out.”
“It’s the pack’s house. The alpha can do with it whatever she wants.” She breathed deeply. “So anyway, is there a day you can give me a hand? Before Friday?”
“Before Friday?” It was Tuesday already.
“They’re having the place professionally cleaned.”
“Lyssa and Bradley are?”
“Oh, the pride is paying for it. A mating present to our third in command.”
He snorted. “Like hell they are. I wonder what budget they think that’s coming from.”
Angelica paused, maybe surprised. He wished he could see her face as it broadcast every emotion.
“Well, Lyssa needs every hint of me out of there. I guess she gets teary-eyed every time she hears my name. I was so mean.”
He snorted again. “Poor lamb.”
“Yeah.”
Several seconds of silence as he tried to think how he could charge the cleaning back to Bradley when he did the direct deposits of the pack leaders’ stipends. Maybe he should take it out of Ella’s stipend or Lyssa’s paycheck. He sniggered.
“What?”
“I’m being petty in my head. I do the pride’s books.”
She chuckled. “What’s the good of being petty friends if you don’t share?”
He glanced around and saw a few pride members in the crowd of humans coming out of another movie. He nodded to them and leaned against the wall, not ready to show all his cards to just anyone wandering past. “I’ll tell you later when we’re alone.”
He hadn’t meant that as flirty, but halfway through the sentence, he’d started yearning to be alone with her, so his voice had gone growly.
He heard her soft sigh. Happy sigh? Aroused sigh? Shut up and stop the bullshit sigh? “Look, I just need you for your truck.”
“It’s not even my truck.” His inadequacy struck him deeply.
“And someone to carry the other end of the couch.”
And someone to fuck you into the couch? It was his turn for a sigh. The silence stretched out. On his end, it was weighted with sex. He could only hope it was on hers, too. He cleared his throat. “I’m installing cabinets tomorrow and Thursday. Would Friday morning work? Maybe Thursday evening, but I can’t promise I’ll get done before dark. And I still need to work out the truck with Jude. I’ll probably have to trade for the day.”
“Friday morning early. They want to clean the carpets and let them dry before the weekend. I’ll make sure everything’s ready to go. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of trips. I guess I don’t have to clean, if they’re having a cleaning service in anyway.”
“OK. Friday.” More silence. “How are you?”
“Yeah.” She let out a breath. “OK, I guess. I started applying for jobs already. There’s a library assistant position open at the Middleton branch. I have a chance at that.”
“Middleton? That’s half an hour away. I mean, I’m in Middleton now, but it’s a pain in the ass to commute.”
It was her turn to snort. “Half an hour is exactly like all the way to the moon, yes, Tremaine. My best friend said I could live with her in Vermont, but that is a bit more like the moon.”
“Yeah, too far.” Much too far away for his purposes. Not that he quite understood his purposes. He scrambled to remember who her best friend was. No idea.
Silence while he didn’t try to understand why he didn’t want her too far away or how he liked it when she said his name, even in her most sarcastic tone.
“So you’re OK?” he asked again.
“Pretty much. Just, you know, reevaluating my whole life.” More silence. “Thanks for offering to help.”
“It’s no problem. My pleasure.” Then he wrecked it and said, “Was it so hard to accept help?”
“I can rent a truck and get someone else to help carry things,” she snapped.
“No, don’t. I’ll help you. Let me help you. It’s what friends do.”
Silence for a few tense seconds. “OK. Thanks.” She said goodbye and hung up with a beep.
Friday morning dawned cold, but luckily not wet. The dew on the grass would be slippery, but they wouldn’t need to be on it to carry the heavy stuff. The gravel drive could do with leveling, but he wouldn’t be the one to do it, especially not if Ella asked him to do it for free in honor of Braindead’s mating.
He wondered if the cleaners were working for free under pressure from Ella since he’d told her the money would have to come out of her allowance. He shook his head. Petty shit.
Angelica swung the door open as he reached the bottom of the front steps, dressed in an ancient t-shirt and sweatpants, her face pale and her eyes red-rimmed like she’d been crying.
He paused with one foot on the bottom step. “Everything OK?”
“Yeah. I was up late packing.” She paused. “I’m going to miss this place.”
He nodded. “You were here for three years.”
“Three and a half, almost. Carol lived here until I started at the library. When my mom got sick again and we moved back to Freiburg, Carol made sure we got this house so I could come home at lunch and be nearby if Mom needed me.” She swallowed hard.
“I did the work on it when I was here that summer, working with Hank, the guy who used to do all the handyman stuff.” That had been the beginning of the end of his career as an accountant in Washington. He’d loved fixing up this house, loved working with Hank, loved being back in Freiburg, and had started to see the rot that was destroying the pride. Once his girlfriend broke up with him a couple of years later and he’d learned more about the problems in the pride, there was nothing that could have kept him away. “Carol hadn’t changed anything since she moved in fifty years ago.”
Angelica bristled. “She raised her kids here. Her daughters married from this house. Her mate died here.”
He was across the porch with his hand on her shoulder in an instant. “Shhh. I know. She’s the one who picked out the colors. She supervised me. She was sad to see the gold wallpaper go, but she wanted you to have a pretty house.”
“I thought the pride paid for it.”
He sighed. “They paid for the roof, plumbing, and appliances. Hank undercharged them for the labor because he was like that. The design was Carol and me.”
“Pity it’s going to Lipstick.”
“And Braindead. Don’t forget Braindead.” He was going to start calling Bradley that to his face, because fuck that guy.
She shook her head and turned her face away. “I’ve been trying to forget him.”
“Hey.” He swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. “Sorry. Did he break your heart?”
“Heh.” Angelica stalked away. “Hell no. Damaged my ego. Acted like a jerk and flaunted his new girl in front of me. Not that I could escape her anyway.”
“I saw you at the mating ceremony.” She’d looked angry instead of celebratory, which made sense now he knew Braindead was her ex.
“Ella told me it was for the good of the pride that I go. Made it sound like my job rode on it to show up and act happy. I couldn’t manage the happy.”
“Yeah. That sounds like her.” He shook his head. Ella needed a new brain. “So those vows…”
“Oh for god’s sake, those vows.” Her voice went nasal and she sounded a bit like Bradley. “‘I always knew I would fall for a librarian.’ As if he knows how to read.”
He smiled, which didn’t feel natural. “Asshole. With you standing right there.”
“Coffee?” She was filling a mug with something extra black and with a strong whiff of sulfur.
He’d only had the time to drink the cold dregs left in his coffeepot from the day before. “Absolutely.”
“Milk? Sugar?”
He took the hot mug from her, tasted it, and shuddered. “Milk. How much coffee did you use? This is like espresso, but a whole mug of it.”
She smirked. “Drink up. You’ll be hearing colors after the second cup.”
He smiled again, which was less unnatural with practice, he guessed. “As entertaining as that sounds, I already had normal coffee at home, so I’ll just have one.”
They sipped coffee and leaned against the counter a foot apart, not close enough for his tastes. The thought brought him up short. He leaned another half inch away from her, not wanting to seem like he was rejecting her in any way, but not willing to brush her arm with his and startle her. He drained his mug, getting every drop of the thick, almost chocolate brew, then turned to see her staring at him over the rim of her mug. The sour apple smell had faded a bit, but now there was a sharp smell of arousal in the air and only some of it was him.
She jerked away and set her mug in the sink with a clunk. “Time’s a-wasting. I have to be out by noon.”
She swung her legs out of her car in front of Tremaine’s house. Freight Train Tremaine had rolled right over her protests and shoved her boxes into the bed of his brother-in-law’s huge pickup, packing them tightly around her other things and tarping the load down, then filling her car and the truck cab. He’d even gone in when she thought they were done and came back out five minutes later with her coffeemaker and mugs, setting them gently on her passenger seat and putting the seat belt around the coffeemaker with a grin and a pat.
She was out of her house. Her mom’s house. Carol’s house. Now Braindead and Lipstick’s house. She’d planned on working her ass off all morning, alone, grieving, so it wasn’t Tremaine’s fault it was going to be easier than she planned. But she’d been snippy, growly, and bitchy.
He disappeared into his two-story, pale-yellow house, a huge box in his arms and she decided to stop taking her bad mood out on him.
She swung a duffel over her shoulder, picked up her coffeemaker, and shoved inside in time to see him trotting toward her down a wide staircase, his powerful body coming into view from the work boot toes up over the powerful bare calves and the muscular thighs hidden by khaki cargo shorts. He gestured back over his shoulder. “Bedroom upstairs on the left. Anything you need to take to Carol’s leave down here or in your car.”
“Hey,” she said as he reached the bottom.
He stopped and turned, crossing his arms over his chest. Yeah, he was pissed off, maybe even hurt.
“Thank you for your help. I don’t mean to take my mood out on you, because you’re—” Fabulous. Sexy. “You’re helping me so much. None of this is your fault and I’m bitchy about that, not about you. You’re just standing between me and the stuff I’m bitching at.”
He stared at her intently, but she couldn’t read him.
“Anyway, thank you. And sorry.”
She brushed her hand across his arm as he went out and he paused in the doorway.
“Upstairs to the left,” he grunted and swung away and down his front steps.
They hauled everything in in relative silence. She managed to only drop one box and it was only books and she missed her foot, so nothing broke. She tripped on the front steps and bashed her knee. Then she smashed her hand on the doorway to Tremaine’s living room as they brought the couch in.
“Do you mind if I use your couch while it’s here?” he asked, his face a little red.
She glanced over her shoulder at his big front room with lots of light…and one armchair and a huge TV hanging on the wall, a tangle of electronics on a coffee table under it. She staggered backward and set her end of the couch down by the chair. “Sure. If you shed on it, vacuum it before I pick it up.”
In a flash, he was next to her, chest grazing her shoulder. “How about bodily fluids?”
She felt her face heating, but she frowned. “Like drool when you fall asleep watching TV?”
“And if we have sex on the couch?”
The moment changed so fast, the smell of his sweat from carrying her stuff, spiced by arousal, peaked so quickly that she was going to have to blame pheromones for everything that happened next.
I’m coming on too strong, he thought as he stepped in front of Angelica, brushing against her from nipples to waist.
I should back off, let her think, he thought as he pulled her fully against him, his cock expanding rapidly in his cargo shorts as her soft belly pushed against it. He sucked in his belly and wished he weren’t carrying that extra twenty pounds. Or thirty pounds.
