Boarlander Bash Bear 2(35)

“Oooh, you touched Bash’s pizza rolls,” Kirk said. “He’s gonna kill you, and then Audrey is going to eat you, and then she’ll puke you out like a hairball, and then I’ll throw you off the side of a mountain, and then Damon will torch you, and then—”

“That’s good, Kirk,” Harrison said tiredly.

But Bash fist-bumped Kirk and told him, “I like your stories.” And then like Clinton hadn’t thrown a tantrum at all and Audrey wasn’t rubbing all over Emerson like a giant, lethal housecat, Bash grandly announced, “The steaks are done!”





Chapter Thirteen




“I can’t wait until you have a cub,” Audrey said over the sound of the water tumbling off the cliff above and into the waves.

Emerson readjusted her backside on the slippery rock under the falls. It was darker here than on the other side, and they’d had to swim deep under the running water to get here, but damn, it was cool in the cave-like space. “I can’t wait either. I’ve wanted to be a mom for so long.”

“How long?”

“Since my early twenties. I used to beg my mom to have more babies.”

“Were you the youngest?” Audrey asked.

“No, but my sister hit age three and wanted nothing to do with me coddling her.”

“I was an only child. Some people like being the only kid, but I didn’t. I wanted lots of brothers and sisters.”

“I want ten cubs,” Bash said from where he bobbed in the water, his shoulders under Emerson’s calves.

“Bash, she ain’t poopin’ out ten cubs,” Audrey said, her southern twang thickening.

Emerson laughed and ducked her chin to her chest to hide her flushing cheeks. “I maybe want three.”

“Three is good. Or four,” Bash said. “Or seven.”

Audrey rolled her eyes. “Oh, good God, you’re incorrigible. I bet it will be different when you actually have the cub and realize how much work they are.”

“Or having one will make me want twenty,” Bash said, then pressed a kiss on the inside of Emerson’s knee. “Twenty little Emerson’s. I hope we have all girls with curly hair and cheetah eyes.”

Clinton popped out of the water right beside Bash, and Emerson startled hard. He pushed himself onto the sitting rock and scooted over until his arm touched hers.

“That’s close enough,” Bash said, void of the humor that had been in his tone a second ago.

“Harrison ordered me to apologize.”

Emerson waited for a while, but Clinton just stared at the underside of the falls.

“And?” Audrey said so loud her voice echoed.

“And that’s it,” Clinton said, casting his Second a dirty look.

Audrey sighed and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “You make me want to take a nap,” but Emerson could’ve been wrong on account of the water being so loud.

“Uh, you’re forgiven,” Emerson said, desperate to avoid another row with the resident bad bear.

“We need to invent a way of getting booze under here without everything getting wet,” Kirk said thoughtfully from his perch on the giant rock behind them.

“Have floating coolers already been invented?” Mason asked. “Or we could try to float Big Blue in an inner tube.”

“You named the cooler Big Blue?” Emerson asked.

Mason smirked and nodded like it was the greatest name ever thought up.

“I named my pet plant Spartacus.”

“Of course you have a pet plant,” Clinton muttered. “You probably have a hundred cats and knit sweaters for them, too.”

“I knitted a potholder once,” she admitted, unoffended. “Well, I meant for it to be a scarf, but I sucked at knitting so I quit when it was just a purple square.”

“I like purple squares,” Bash said.

Leaning forward, Emerson ruffled his black hair, dislodging water drops everywhere. “Well, I like you.”

“Barf and yak,” Clinton said.

“Oh, come on, Clinton,” Emerson drawled out, resting back on her locked arms. “Haven’t you ever had someone you loved?”

Clinton cast her a long, calculating glance. She thought he would say something sarcastic and rude, but instead he murmured, “Yeah. But I destroy the things I love the most.”

Pain slashed through her chest at the load Clinton was obviously carrying. But when she tried to ask what had happened to him, Clinton stood and dove gracefully into the water and disappeared under the falls.

Bash gave her a troubled look and lifted one shoulder in a shrug at her questioning expression. “He don’t share his story. Not even Harrison knows.” He inhaled deeply and curved his lips up in a smile. “Come on. I promised to show you why orange is my favorite color.”