Beck Bear
Page 9
-Remi, Your Awesome Amazing Not Annoying Heart In The Right Place Good Intentioned Friend
Juno growled, but it came out human. Oh, now her bear wanted to hide?
Juno sighed and wondered how the hell she was going to tell Remi what Beaston had predicted. She was scared. Okay? She was terrified by what had happened tonight. Juno folded the letter and pulled her purse off the chair, made her way to the door. She was scared of dying. Scared of these first signs of sickness, scared of losing control and being remembered for her death, not her life.
At the door, she turned just in time to see Rhett come out of the tree line and make his way to the trailer next door. He had on a white thermal sweater that had a V at the neck and showed off those pecs of his. The man had probably boned more girls than he could count.
“Stop looking at me like I’m a hamburger, Juno. If you wanted to eat me, you missed your chance.”
“I tasted you,” she teased. “You taste like beer and bad decisions. I spat you back out.”
His chuckle was deep and gravelly and, yeah, it was sexy, too. Annoying. “Bad decisions, yes. I’ve actually patented a cologne with that scent. But beer? Nah. I haven’t had one yet today.”
“Yet.”
“About to change that right now. Night Juno.” His frosty blue eyes stayed on her until he disappeared onto the porch of his trailer.
A few seconds later, she heard the plucking of guitar strings. God, he was so good. So natural. So enthralling. She could’ve stood out there listening all night if it weren’t for the freezing weather and her lack of “underoos,” as Remi had put it. Why was she so dang cold tonight? Oh yeah…because she was getting sick. Which wasn’t fair because shifters rarely even got sick. Normal shifters were born healthy and died of old age. And here she was, twenty-seven years young, and her days were numbered? She kind of wished Beaston had never told her this stupid destiny. She got it; he didn’t want her to waste her life. Because of his prediction, she’d worked harder, had slept less, got more done but, good God, what did a real day off even feel like? Like this? Like an emotional roller coaster that revolved around work, guilt over not working, or thinking about work?
For the first time in her career, she wished she could just forget everything for a little while.
Dress warm. And cheap. That was what Remi had basically told her in the letter, so she pulled on some skinny jeans, her pristine Ugg snow boots with pretty lace ribbons in the back, a tank top, and a white sweater. She turned this way and that in the mirror. Huh. She looked pretty good if she ignored the skinny jeans being a size too small and squeezing her butt fat upward into a muffin top. Which she actually didn’t ignore, because the tops of muffins were the yummiest part.
An engine revved outside, and Juno grinned at herself in the mirror. Yep, tonight she was going to play and ignore all her worries. She grabbed her jacket and jogged out of 1010 to the edge of the porch.
Remi and Kamp were each on mud-splattered four-wheelers.
Remi held two hotdogs in the air. “Get on the back, bitch. Tonight, we ride.”
“Doooo we call each other bitch now?” Juno asked in a high octave.
“All the kids are doing it. Rheeeeett. Rhett,” Remi called with her tongue sticking out. Dear goodness, was she drunk? “Rhett, Rhett, Rhett, Rhett, Rhe—”
“What?” Rhett yelled, throwing open the door to his trailer. “What, what, what, WHAT?”
“Whoo, your eyes are really blue,” Remi said through an unapologetic grin. “Come play with us. We tried to get Grim, too, but the Reaper is in the woods again. You’re our second choice. Come on.”
“No spanks, Novak.” He disappeared back inside his trailer.
“There is beer involved, and Juno’s tits will be smashed against your back,” Remi said at normal volume.
And like magic, Rhett reappeared and jogged down the stairs. “Like I was saying, I’d love to come play.”
“Wait, what is happening with my tits?” Juno asked as she watched Remi dismount and let Rhett have her spot.
“Your tits, my back,” Rhett said, revving the four-wheeler and waggling his eyebrows. “Smash ’em.”
While Remi was crawling onto the back of Kamp’s four-wheeler, he was cracking up, discouraging her to, “Stop eating Juno’s hot dogs.” And, indeed, her best friend in the whole wide world was inhaling Juno’s dinner. Rude.
Juno stomped over to her, yanked the one remaining un-maimed hotdog out of Remi’s hand, and angrily took a bite before she hoisted her leg over the back of Rhett’s four-wheeler.
Rhett yanked the jacket out of her hands and tossed it up on the front porch.
“Hey!” she exclaimed. “I’m cold.”
“You’re a werebear,” Rhett muttered. “You’ll survive.”
Seriously, he called them werebears, too? Ugh! “Dying, remember?” she growled against his ear.
“Holy fuck, keep doing that, but whisper something sexier than ‘dying.’ That word is a boner-killer.”
She leaned forward and purred, “Venereal disease.”
“I don’t like this game, zero stars, do not recommend,” Rhett muttered.
Remi leaned over and almost fell off Kamp’s ATV to hand Juno a flask. “This’ll warm you up!”
Juno shook it gently. “It’s almost empty.”
“Whoopsie.” Remi giggled and then cleared her throat primly. “Rules of the game—there are pink markers on the trees. Follow the markers to each checkpoint where there will be a puzzle. Before completing each puzzle and moving on to the next check point, we each must shotgun a beer.”
“Fuck, yes,” Rhett said. “This is literally the only cool thing you two have ever done.”
“Not polite,” Remi said, pointing to him. And then Kamp hit the throttle and spun out, spraying snow all over Rhett and Juno. Her cackling laughter echoed through the clearing as Rhett hit the gas. Juno yelped and barely got her arms around his waist before she fell off the back.
“Hold on tight, but also drink that flask.”
Her voice shook from all the bumps as she said, “Uh, pass. I’ll spill it on my sweater.”
“So?”
“It’s white.”
“Make a stain, Juno! Make a memory!”
And she got it. Smudge that perfect sweater and remember this night when she went to wash it. Or if the stain stayed, always remember it. Chest heaving with excitement, she said, “Okay! But keep it steady so I don’t choke!”
“That’s what she said,” he called over his shoulder.
Juno laughed into the flask and choked anyway. Dirty boy. When she recovered from coughing, she downed the rest, only spilling a few drops down her chin and onto her sweater, and then she tossed the flask on the ground just at the edge of the clearing before they hit the tree line. Rhett’s waist was taut like a Grecian statue. Boy had been doing his core workouts, yummy. And he smelled good. Sniff, sniff. Cologne. Maybe he really had made a cologne called Bad Decisions. His triceps were all flexed against his tight white thermal sweater. They both matched. White sweaters. So cute. Up ahead, she could see Kamp and Remi’s taillights. Rhett was good at driving and catching up fast. Juno gave a belly laugh when the wind whipped against her face.
“God, you have a great laugh,” Rhett called out.
“Aw, what a sweet complime—”
“And great tits.”
Juno rolled her eyes heavenward, but really, she was flattered. It had been a while since anyone had paid attention to those.
“There’s a marker!” she yelled, pointing to the pink plastic ribbon tied around a tree. “And another way up there! See it?”
“Yep, I see it. Good eye.” The little engine roared as he hit the throttle and took them into the woods.
Juno squeaked and held on tighter as he wove in and out of trees, ten yards off the trail. They were neck and neck with Kamp and Remi now. Remi was still laughing like a psychopath and waving a half-eaten hotdog in one hand while holding on to her mate with the other.
Juno was cracking up now, because how long had it been since she’d seen her friend like this? Since she’d seen Remi full of pure, undiluted joy? It was infectious.
Juno growled, but it came out human. Oh, now her bear wanted to hide?
Juno sighed and wondered how the hell she was going to tell Remi what Beaston had predicted. She was scared. Okay? She was terrified by what had happened tonight. Juno folded the letter and pulled her purse off the chair, made her way to the door. She was scared of dying. Scared of these first signs of sickness, scared of losing control and being remembered for her death, not her life.
At the door, she turned just in time to see Rhett come out of the tree line and make his way to the trailer next door. He had on a white thermal sweater that had a V at the neck and showed off those pecs of his. The man had probably boned more girls than he could count.
“Stop looking at me like I’m a hamburger, Juno. If you wanted to eat me, you missed your chance.”
“I tasted you,” she teased. “You taste like beer and bad decisions. I spat you back out.”
His chuckle was deep and gravelly and, yeah, it was sexy, too. Annoying. “Bad decisions, yes. I’ve actually patented a cologne with that scent. But beer? Nah. I haven’t had one yet today.”
“Yet.”
“About to change that right now. Night Juno.” His frosty blue eyes stayed on her until he disappeared onto the porch of his trailer.
A few seconds later, she heard the plucking of guitar strings. God, he was so good. So natural. So enthralling. She could’ve stood out there listening all night if it weren’t for the freezing weather and her lack of “underoos,” as Remi had put it. Why was she so dang cold tonight? Oh yeah…because she was getting sick. Which wasn’t fair because shifters rarely even got sick. Normal shifters were born healthy and died of old age. And here she was, twenty-seven years young, and her days were numbered? She kind of wished Beaston had never told her this stupid destiny. She got it; he didn’t want her to waste her life. Because of his prediction, she’d worked harder, had slept less, got more done but, good God, what did a real day off even feel like? Like this? Like an emotional roller coaster that revolved around work, guilt over not working, or thinking about work?
For the first time in her career, she wished she could just forget everything for a little while.
Dress warm. And cheap. That was what Remi had basically told her in the letter, so she pulled on some skinny jeans, her pristine Ugg snow boots with pretty lace ribbons in the back, a tank top, and a white sweater. She turned this way and that in the mirror. Huh. She looked pretty good if she ignored the skinny jeans being a size too small and squeezing her butt fat upward into a muffin top. Which she actually didn’t ignore, because the tops of muffins were the yummiest part.
An engine revved outside, and Juno grinned at herself in the mirror. Yep, tonight she was going to play and ignore all her worries. She grabbed her jacket and jogged out of 1010 to the edge of the porch.
Remi and Kamp were each on mud-splattered four-wheelers.
Remi held two hotdogs in the air. “Get on the back, bitch. Tonight, we ride.”
“Doooo we call each other bitch now?” Juno asked in a high octave.
“All the kids are doing it. Rheeeeett. Rhett,” Remi called with her tongue sticking out. Dear goodness, was she drunk? “Rhett, Rhett, Rhett, Rhett, Rhe—”
“What?” Rhett yelled, throwing open the door to his trailer. “What, what, what, WHAT?”
“Whoo, your eyes are really blue,” Remi said through an unapologetic grin. “Come play with us. We tried to get Grim, too, but the Reaper is in the woods again. You’re our second choice. Come on.”
“No spanks, Novak.” He disappeared back inside his trailer.
“There is beer involved, and Juno’s tits will be smashed against your back,” Remi said at normal volume.
And like magic, Rhett reappeared and jogged down the stairs. “Like I was saying, I’d love to come play.”
“Wait, what is happening with my tits?” Juno asked as she watched Remi dismount and let Rhett have her spot.
“Your tits, my back,” Rhett said, revving the four-wheeler and waggling his eyebrows. “Smash ’em.”
While Remi was crawling onto the back of Kamp’s four-wheeler, he was cracking up, discouraging her to, “Stop eating Juno’s hot dogs.” And, indeed, her best friend in the whole wide world was inhaling Juno’s dinner. Rude.
Juno stomped over to her, yanked the one remaining un-maimed hotdog out of Remi’s hand, and angrily took a bite before she hoisted her leg over the back of Rhett’s four-wheeler.
Rhett yanked the jacket out of her hands and tossed it up on the front porch.
“Hey!” she exclaimed. “I’m cold.”
“You’re a werebear,” Rhett muttered. “You’ll survive.”
Seriously, he called them werebears, too? Ugh! “Dying, remember?” she growled against his ear.
“Holy fuck, keep doing that, but whisper something sexier than ‘dying.’ That word is a boner-killer.”
She leaned forward and purred, “Venereal disease.”
“I don’t like this game, zero stars, do not recommend,” Rhett muttered.
Remi leaned over and almost fell off Kamp’s ATV to hand Juno a flask. “This’ll warm you up!”
Juno shook it gently. “It’s almost empty.”
“Whoopsie.” Remi giggled and then cleared her throat primly. “Rules of the game—there are pink markers on the trees. Follow the markers to each checkpoint where there will be a puzzle. Before completing each puzzle and moving on to the next check point, we each must shotgun a beer.”
“Fuck, yes,” Rhett said. “This is literally the only cool thing you two have ever done.”
“Not polite,” Remi said, pointing to him. And then Kamp hit the throttle and spun out, spraying snow all over Rhett and Juno. Her cackling laughter echoed through the clearing as Rhett hit the gas. Juno yelped and barely got her arms around his waist before she fell off the back.
“Hold on tight, but also drink that flask.”
Her voice shook from all the bumps as she said, “Uh, pass. I’ll spill it on my sweater.”
“So?”
“It’s white.”
“Make a stain, Juno! Make a memory!”
And she got it. Smudge that perfect sweater and remember this night when she went to wash it. Or if the stain stayed, always remember it. Chest heaving with excitement, she said, “Okay! But keep it steady so I don’t choke!”
“That’s what she said,” he called over his shoulder.
Juno laughed into the flask and choked anyway. Dirty boy. When she recovered from coughing, she downed the rest, only spilling a few drops down her chin and onto her sweater, and then she tossed the flask on the ground just at the edge of the clearing before they hit the tree line. Rhett’s waist was taut like a Grecian statue. Boy had been doing his core workouts, yummy. And he smelled good. Sniff, sniff. Cologne. Maybe he really had made a cologne called Bad Decisions. His triceps were all flexed against his tight white thermal sweater. They both matched. White sweaters. So cute. Up ahead, she could see Kamp and Remi’s taillights. Rhett was good at driving and catching up fast. Juno gave a belly laugh when the wind whipped against her face.
“God, you have a great laugh,” Rhett called out.
“Aw, what a sweet complime—”
“And great tits.”
Juno rolled her eyes heavenward, but really, she was flattered. It had been a while since anyone had paid attention to those.
“There’s a marker!” she yelled, pointing to the pink plastic ribbon tied around a tree. “And another way up there! See it?”
“Yep, I see it. Good eye.” The little engine roared as he hit the throttle and took them into the woods.
Juno squeaked and held on tighter as he wove in and out of trees, ten yards off the trail. They were neck and neck with Kamp and Remi now. Remi was still laughing like a psychopath and waving a half-eaten hotdog in one hand while holding on to her mate with the other.
Juno was cracking up now, because how long had it been since she’d seen her friend like this? Since she’d seen Remi full of pure, undiluted joy? It was infectious.
