Walker [Grizzly Ridge 6] (The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection) Read online

  “Dude, what the hell were you doing out here while I was inside?” Corky asked, picking his bag up from the ground. “Haven’t I warned you about taking candy from strangers?”

  Bailey stood there shaking like crazy, staring at the road the man had disappeared down, and wondered what in the hell had just happened.

  Chapter Two

  Walker pulled to the side of the road and slammed his fist against the steering wheel as his heart thumped wildly in his chest. That was what he got for stopping in Grizzly Ridge for gas. He thought he could get in and out without being noticed, but he’d fucked that up every possible way.

  Now his mate thought he was a lunatic. Walker had had no other choice but to flee or risk getting arrested. After everything that had been going on lately—with the local sheriff being killed, along with an FBI agent—steering clear of the cops was his best bet.

  Instead of heading toward the road that led into the mountains, Walker waited on a side street. He wasn’t going to approach his mate, not yet. For now he just wanted to know where the man lived. The human would be going through the mating heat soon, and Walker wanted to be with him when that happened.

  This was especially important because a few shifters lived in town, and they would be able to scent the human’s heat. The thought of any one of them touching what was his made Walker’s bear want to kill.

  Walker had teased his brothers about not being able to control their bear when they’d discovered their mates, but Walker had had no idea, no fucking clue that his bear would basically knock him out of the way and take over.

  Now he sat there trying to reel his shit in. This was not how he imagined his day going. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed.

  “What’s up?” Trigger asked when he answered.

  “I might have gotten myself into a bit of trouble.” Walker scanned the street, looking for his mate and making sure no cop cars had been dispatched.

  Who had been the bag-wielding guy with his mate? Was that his boyfriend, brother, or someone simply trying to help? Shit. Walker sure knew how to get himself in trouble. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to lie low after doing something completely boneheaded.

  “What kind of trouble?” Trigger asked. “Do I need to come bail you out or help you bury a body?”

  “Maybe both.” If the cops caught him, definitely bail. If that guy with his mate was a lover, then shovels would be needed.

  Though Walker wouldn’t outright kidnap his mate like some of his brothers had done with theirs, he wouldn’t share him. Just thinking about the human touching Walker’s mate made his teeth gnash. He explained to Trigger what had just happened.

  Instead of his second eldest brother giving him advice—which Trigger was pretty good at—he burst out laughing. “How much shit did you give me about Dean?” he asked. “God, how I love that the tables have turned.”

  “Yuk it up,” Walker growled. He ducked when he thought he saw—was that a cop car? No, it was a car with a luggage rack on top. Walker sat back up. “I’ll be in town, waiting for the heat to take effect.”

  Trigger sobered. “Do you need backup?”

  Did he? What if that crazy little fucker with his mate tried to attack him again? Did Walker really want to kill him? His bear gave a resounding yes. But there had been too much bloodshed over the past year.

  He jerked forward when that froofy little red car passed by. “I gotta go.” He hung up, then pulled away from the curb and kept a safe distance as he followed.

  Even this far away, he heard the rap music thumping in the car. For a second, he thought it would pull into the police station, but the car passed the station and hooked a right. The driver screeched to a stop at the stop sign, the front passenger tire rolling over the curb.

  As Walker followed the car for several blocks, he realized that the person with his mate couldn’t drive for shit. He sped through yellow lights—some lights just turning red as he passed under them—barely paused at stop signs, and drove as if he had the law on his tail.

  Walker didn’t breathe easier until the car pulled into a driveway and his mate got out. He slammed the door, jabbed a finger at the driver, and said something with angry lines etched in his face. He was probably having a fit over the guy’s lack of driving skills.

  Walker studied his mate, and his cock hardened at how gorgeous the human was. He had short auburn hair that was shorn in the back and longer on top, and the prettiest blue eyes. His physique was slim, but damn if he didn’t have a nice ass. Not too big, but just enough flare that Walker’s mouth watered.

  He wanted to nip that ass while he slid his tongue—Walker sucked in a ragged breath. He needed to stop thinking about fucking his mate before he got out of his truck and tried to kidnap the guy again.

  Which he was probably going to do anyway.

  The driver got out, laughing, and the two hurried inside.

  The house was a tan-and-white single-story that looked as though it had seen better days. The front lawn, although covered in fallen leaves, looked as though it had bald patches, and the porch sagged.

  Walker settled in, turning on the heat as a light rain began to fall, waiting for the right moment to go inside and get his mate. He didn’t want the mating heat to kick in while his human was with someone else. He’d have to kill that little fucker if he put his hands on Walker’s mate.

  * * * *

  As Corky set up the game, Bailey went to the window and glanced out. Ever since they’d left the game store, he’d felt as though someone had been following them. He’d checked the side mirror on the way to Corky’s house and had seen that maroon truck, but he’d told himself there were plenty of maroon trucks in Grizzly Ridge. Or so he thought, but that didn’t mean that lunatic had followed him.

  Still, Bailey couldn’t shake the feeling that the whacko had been tailing them. But when he looked outside, the truck was nowhere in sight. The clouds had started to thicken, though. The weather had gone from sunny to overcast, and the rain had begun to fall. It was turning out to be a dreary day. Then again, it was late fall. Most days were like this.

  “I got the shit.” Corky came into the living room with a small baggie in his hand. “Wanna smoke a blunt?”

  Bailey shook his head. “You know I don’t mess with that crap.”

  Maybe Bailey should’ve just gone home. He wasn’t in the mood to play video games. He wasn’t in the mood to do anything but curl up on his couch, cry over a container of Häagen Dazs, and watch old black-and-white movies. If Sarah decided to fire him, Bailey was in deep trouble. He had very little savings, which wouldn’t even be enough to cover his rent next month.

  “Fine, I’ll grab you something you do enjoy.” Corky went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of whiskey. “I know I said it was too early to drink, but fuck it.”

  Bailey grabbed the bottle and removed the cap, then took a hard gulp. He regretted it when he hissed and began to cough as the whiskey burned his throat.

  Corky burst out laughing. “Stop trying to drink like you’re a champ. Baby sips, moron.”

  Bailey flipped him the finger and took another drink before dropping onto the sofa. Corky began to smoke, and the room filled with the nasty scent. Bailey waved a hand in front of his face. “Open a window.”

  Corky went into a coughing fit as he got up and cranked open a window behind the couch. “Dude, it’s like forty degrees outside. We’re gonna freeze our balls off.”

  The cold air wafted in, proving Corky’s point, but Bailey would rather freeze than be stuck in a room filled with that noxious smell. Gripping the bottle, he patted his pockets and found what he was looking for.

  “Now that’s a nasty habit.” Corky pointed to Bailey’s pack of menthol cigarettes. “The smell gives me a headache.”

  “Ditto,” Bailey said. “Only your smoke gives me a migraine.”

  They laughed as Bailey drank from the bottle, his worry that the crazy man had followed them fading away. The whiskey me
llowed him and he decided to play the zombie game with Corky.

  An hour later, he struggled from the couch and staggered down the hall to the bathroom. His hand slapped the wall three times before he managed to turn the light on. The damn switch had tried to get away, but Bailey had bested it. He made a noise like a crowd was cheering.

  The room tilted as his body heated up. The window in the living room had remained open, the draft making Bailey cold. But now that he was in the bathroom, he was so hot that he wanted to strip.

  Bailey took care of his business, washed his hands, and wiped them on his shirt before heading back into the hallway. He stopped when he heard a noise in Corky’s bedroom. He swung to the left, nearly colliding with the wall as he squinted.

  His body pulsed and his cock hardened. Bailey leaned against the wall, moaning. Why was he so damn horny? It wasn’t because of Corky. He was like a brother to Bailey, not a lover, and while he was handsome, he wasn’t Bailey’s type. Bailey liked his men strong, beefy, and manly.

  An image of the stranger popped into his head. Bailey ran his palm over the thick outline in his jeans. He hissed and punched his hips forward, seriously considering jacking off in Corky’s hallway.

  Then he heard the noise again. Bailey’s hand fell away from his cock as he teetered toward Corky’s bedroom. It had sounded as if the floorboards had squeaked. Had Corky gone into his bedroom while Bailey had been in the bathroom?

  “What’re you doin’ in there?” Bailey asked as he slapped a hand against the door, easing it open.

  “Who’re you talking to?” Corky shouted from the living room. “Get your drunk ass back in here so you can help me annihilate these zombies. They keep killing me.”

  Bailey blinked a few times. If Corky was in the living room, who was in the bedroom? He belched, took a step forward, and shoved his fists onto his hips. “Okay, burglar man, show yerself.” He laughed. That was a good one.

  Corky strolled down the hallway and stopped behind Bailey. “Who the fuck’re you talking to?”

  “The burglar man,” Bailey said. “He keeps squeaking the floor.”

  “I think I need to cut you off if you’re hearing things.” Corky grabbed his arm, then pulled away. “Dude, you’re burning up.”

  Sweat poured from Bailey’s scalp and made his shirt stick to his chest and back. He fanned his face, leaning against the doorframe. “Iz hots in here.”

  “I’ll go put some ice in a baggie,” Corky said. “You can use it on the back of your neck.”

  A cool draft drew Bailey’s attention. He grabbed Corky’s arm when his best friend started away. “Didja leave your bedroom’s winda open?”

  Corky frowned. “No.”

  “Well, iz opened.” He used the hem of his shirt to wipe at his forehead. The cool air did nothing to alleviate the heat coursing through his body. When the sweat gathered again, Bailey ripped his shirt over his head, nearly falling over in the process.

  Corky went into the room and closed the window. When he turned, he shouted.

  “What the fuzz’re ya doing?” Bailey asked. Why was Corky throwing his lamp and books at the closet?

  “Get out of my house, you psycho!” Corky picked up his alarm clock and chucked it across the room.

  Confused, Bailey stumbled into the room and almost fell on his ass when he spotted the stranger from the gas station. He jabbed a finger in the air, swaying. “You!”

  Bailey moved toward the man. When he was close enough, he poked his finger into the guy’s chest. “Why’d ya bite me?”

  As soon as he touched the stranger, his body pulsed harder. Bailey moaned and leaned into the hard muscles, rubbing himself against the stranger like a cat in heat. And that was exactly what he felt like.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Corky shouted. “Get away from him, Bailey.”

  But Bailey couldn’t pull away. Especially not when the stranger looped his arms around him. “Feelzo nice,” Bailey purred.

  “He’s a lunatic who tried to kidnap you,” Corky reminded him. “Now you’re cuddling up to him? What in the hell was in that whiskey?”

  “Back off,” the stranger growled at Corky.

  “Fuck you,” Corky snarled.

  “Whuz yer name?”

  The guy turned his gray eyes on Bailey. “Walker.”

  “I’m Bailey.”

  Corky jumped when someone pounded on the front door. Bailey blinked a few times at his friend but couldn’t bring himself to peel his body away from Walker’s. “Go see whoz iz is.”

  Corky gaped at Bailey. “Are you fucking serious?”

  The sound of wood splintering filled the room. Corky raced to his closet and pulled out a bat. He glared at Walker. “I’ll use this on you just as soon as I beat whoever just stormed into my house.”

  Bailey was drunk and hornier than he’d ever been in his life, but common sense kicked in and he yanked himself from Walker’s embrace. He moved toward the dresser and gripped the edge as he shook his head, trying desperately to sober up but having no success.

  Bailey yelped when a tall man, who was just as broad as Walker, appeared in the doorway. Corky swung the bat at the newcomer, but the guy grabbed it and yanked it from Corky’s hand.

  “What the hell?” the man snarled. “You could’ve cracked my skull with this thing.”

  “That was the plan,” Corky argued as he backed away, his gaze bouncing between the two intruders. “Who the hell are you guys?”

  “Neighborhood watch,” Walker replied with a straight face.

  “But you bit me!” Bailey was covered in sweat now, wishing to God he had a bath of ice to plunge into. “What neighborhood watch duz dat?”

  “Dude, they are not the neighborhood watch,” Corky snapped. “The only neighborhood watch we have around here is the neighbors watching a house so they can steal shit.”

  At this point, Bailey didn’t care who the men were. He just wanted the fire consuming him to go away. Too bad it wasn’t snowing outside. He would’ve gotten naked and lain in the stuff.

  Walker held his hands up as he approached. Bailey watched him closely, still gripping the edge of the dresser.

  “Stay away from him,” Corky warned.

  Walker ignored him as he stopped right next to Bailey. “I’m sorry I let my bear take control. This isn’t how I would’ve handled things, but you have to come with me.”

  “Wait.” Corky snapped his head around. “Did you just say bear?” He threw his arms out. “You’re nuttier than I thought.”

  “Why don’t we go into the living room?” the newcomer suggested.

  “Why don’t you get the hell out?” Corky retorted. “Take Lunatic with you while you’re at it.”

  The guy snorted. “Not gonna happen, shrimp.”

  Bailey looked up at Walker. “What’s happening to me?”

  The heat seemed to be killing Bailey’s drunkenness. The longer he stood there, the clearer his mind became. And his speech.

  “You’re in heat, Shorty,” Walker said.

  “Like a flipping cat?” Corky’s blond brows shot to his hairline. “What drugs are you on?”

  Walker glared at Corky. “Trigger, can you get him out of here?”

  “I ain’t going nowhere,” Corky argued. “This is my house. The only ones leaving are you two.” He stormed toward the bedroom door. “I’m calling the cops.”

  “And how will you explain your drugs?” One of Trigger’s brows rose. “That’s a mighty big bag of weed you got on your coffee table.”

  Corky scowled as he jabbed a finger at Trigger. “And you better not have helped yourself.”

  Bailey didn’t struggle when Walker pulled him into his strong arms. In fact, he leaned into Walker and whimpered as he clung to him.

  “Come on, Shorty. Let’s get you home.”

  Somehow Bailey knew Walker wasn’t talking about taking him a block over. “I just want this to stop.”

  “It will.” Walker scooped him off his feet and carried
him out of the room. Trigger and Corky followed.

  “You’re not taking him anywhere,” Corky argued.

  “Watch us,” Trigger growled.

  “Fine, then I’m going,” Corky said. “You ain’t leaving me behind.”

  “The hell we are,” Walker said over his shoulder.

  “Just take him,” Bailey pleaded. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, but he wasn’t about to be taken God knew where by himself. “Please.”

  “No way,” Trigger argued. “He can’t come.”

  Walker stopped and turned to face Trigger. “Have Loudmouth take you to my mate’s home and gather his things.”

  “Your what?” Corky squinted at Walker. “What did you just call Bailey?”

  Trigger grabbed Corky by his upper arm. “Let’s go, brat.”

  “Get your hands off me before I kick you in the balls.” Corky yanked free and snatched the baggie of weed off the coffee table. “I’ll go, but only because I need to make sure you guys don’t do anything to my best friend.”

  Walker headed toward the door as Corky and Trigger argued. Bailey had no idea where they were taking him, or what would happen, but all he wanted was to cool down.

  And then he would kill Walker for doing this to him in the first place.

  Chapter Three

  After allowing Corky to gather a few things—including his video game system—Trigger drove the human to his best friend’s house. Why, he had no clue. Bailey’s backyard was adjacent to Corky’s backyard. They could have jumped the fucking fence and entered through the back door.

  Trigger didn’t bother asking why Corky had made him drive. He was too anxious to get back to his mate and daughter to care. Emilia was only a month old, and Dean had not only duct taped every outlet in the house, he’d wrapped every corner on every available surface and cut cords so their daughter couldn’t strangle herself—Trigger had been pissed when he’d tried to plug his electric razor in only to find the cord cut. He’d even placed bumper pads around the entire house.