Protecting a Mate (3 page)

Yeah, he was close. But she wasn’t sure why.

She smiled and gave him a little wave when he finally got to her. “Hey,” she yelled through the window. “Can you help me out here?”

Aw, that was when her scary as hell, sweet mate did help her out… by
ripping her door off her car
.

Mel squeaked—if he made her pop a whisker there’d be hell to pay—Foster growled, and a loud, cackling laugh came from the direction of the trailer.

Then he was there, live and in living color, and yanking her from the car. In an instant, she found herself wrapped in his arms, his massive body enveloping hers in an all-consuming hug that had all her pink bits singing
hallelujah
.

“Mine,” he snarled and that had her melting into him even further.

“Yours.” She felt it in her bones. Hell, in her ferret’s bones. And whiskers. And claws. And fur.

And…

Foster nuzzled the top of her head, spreading his scent over her, and she did the same to him. She rubbed her cheek on his chest, drawing in his flavors. Sweet, smoky musk and man. His bear drew her ferret out and her gums stung as her fangs fought to burst free. Then there was the burning tingling of her cheeks and—

And her cell phone rang.
Dammit
.

Mel groaned and slumped against Foster before wiggling in his arms. “I gotta get that.”

“Mine.”

God save her from single-minded mates. She knew Holt and Archer could be the same way. “I am, but I have to get that. It could be important.” Not many had her new cell number, but if they had it and were calling… “Seriously.” She pushed at Foster. “You’ll have me forever. I need to get that.”

Foster growled and released her, allowing her to reach across the front seat and snag her purse. A large, warm hand slid across her ass, the palm cradling one round globe and she shuddered with the caress. Oh, God. Her mate had his hands on her. Her mate. Hands. Her.

Her pussy clenched, body warming and aching, and she wished they were naked and panting and…

The damn cell rang
again
.

Mel snagged it from the bottom of her purse and crawled free of her small car, rising to her full—

though small compared to Foster—height.

“Ha! Found it!” She glanced at the screen and groaned. Now she wished she had left it alone.

Foster snatched it from her hand and he glared at the device. “Who,” his stare returned to her, “the fuck is Harvey?”

If Foster weren’t so hot, that snarling growling thing at the construction office would have frightened her and she would have run the other way. Instead, her ferret wanted to get up close and personal with all that bearness. The animal agreed it wasn’t a cat, but it was ready to do its best feline impersonation and rub all over him. Maybe even purr.
Meow.

Unfortunately, that couldn’t happen because… parking lot. Which had her wanting to get the hell away from her boss and his bruised brother. Of course they couldn’t take her vehicle because Foster
threw a guy on her car
.

So now they rode in his massive SUV—from the size of his bulge, she didn’t think he was overcompensating—toward her apartment. Well, her sister’s ex-apartment. Now that Paige lived with Archer, Mel had moved right in.

It seemed, with Foster in the picture, she’d be moving right out. Especially considering the whole mating thing. Oh, and Harvey not getting the hint.

Harvey who ignored Foster’s:
I will rain down an unholy fire of blood on you!

And his:
I will smite your motherfucking life from the world!

And Mel’s favorite since it cut to the heart of the matter:
I will fuck you up!

Yes, he spoke with invisible exclamation points. No, she did not tell him that.

She did stroke his arm, doing her best to soothe away the anger that rushed through him. His bear’s fur was soft beneath her palm, but she appreciated skin more.

And she’d finally gotten him to that point before they got into the SUV. It remained gone when they pulled up to her apartment building. It’d stayed absent in the elevator and hallway and right until…

they got to her door.

There stood her mother all prim and proper in her skirt suit with her short hair styled in a smooth bob that curled at the tips and makeup immaculately applied. She looked like an old Barbie doll. Mel used to want to be exactly like her mom. From the comfortable cash-flush lifestyle, designer pumps, and stodgy husband.

Thank God for parental fuckups.

And boyfriend fuckups.

Speaking of boyfriends, hers—well, her ex-boyfriend—stood beside her mother.

This was not going to end well.

Melanie glanced at Foster and wondered what the odds of her getting him out of there without killing anyone were. Probably not good. One look at the smarmy smile gracing Harvey’s lips told her the odds were actually non-existent. The man never had good survival instincts. He assumed that being a Prendergast meant he was untouchable. She didn’t think Foster was the kind of bear who gave a fuck about the Prendergast name.

At all.

Maybe she could get them out without Harvey introducing himself or speaking in general.

Melanie stepped in front of Foster, cutting him off. “Mother, I didn’t realize we had an appointment.”

Appointment sounded so clinical. Accurate, but clinical.

Her mom sniffed. “I’d heard what kind of people you were
associating
with and came to save you some embarrassment.”

“Associating with?” Mel raised her eyebrows. She’d found Foster all of a minute ago. “How did you…”

“Do you think for one second the Baxter princess wouldn’t be watched?” Her mom’s tone added something else.
You stupid girl.

Maybe she was being polite around Harvey since she sure as hell didn’t care about the person behind her she’d been
associating
with. Screw it, the woman was worried about Harvey.

“I assumed that when you told me
‘You won’t see a penny of the Baxter money’
I was exempt from your interference. You know, being disinherited tends to give that impression,” Mel growled and Foster echoed the sound, though his was louder, deeper, and sexier.

Getting turned on around her mom and Harvey was so not a good thing. Especially when Harvey moved toward her, the action drawing his attention. He actually sniffed the air. Sniffed. The. Air.

His smile grew. “Your mother said you were playing hard to get and I realize she was right. Even after everything you still want me.” Harvey flicked his fingers toward Foster. “I can forgive you this little indiscretion. Come along now. My mother has started planning our wedding. I realize now I shouldn’t have delayed.”

“Excuse the fuck outta you?”

Foster pushed against her. Not hard, but not a gentle brush either and she braced her feet to try to keep him at bay. Really, if he wanted her moved, he’d move her. For now he was allowing her to hold him back.

“Hard to get?” She turned her attention to her mother and glared at the woman. “Are you kidding me? Hard to get? I told you I was done with him. That I wouldn’t mate a male who was so quick to
fuck my sister.
”

Another one of those snooty sniffs. “The connection between the Baxters and Prendergasts is best for your father’s business. I did my best to smooth things over and encourage Harvey not to give up, so it’s time to get over this little tiff.”

Melanie pointed at Harvey but kept her attention on her mom. “He was stalking me!”

“Prendergasts do not
stalk
,” Harvey drawled. “Now, dispense with this
person
. We have reservations at—”

Melanie froze in shock. They were two of the most delusional people she knew. And she decided to tell them so. “You both have to be two of the most delusional people in the fucking world.”

“Melanie Baxter. Baxters do not use words—”

“Yes, I fucking fucktastically fucknaciously fuckfunlly
do
!” She pointed at her mother. “You need to get,” she pointed at Harvey, “him gone before I let my mate eat him for dinner.”

“Your mate?” Derision covered her mom’s features. “You’re mating this…”

“Doll?” Foster trembled with barely suppressed anger and she really didn’t want to look at him.

Really, really.

With a sigh, she tipped her head back. “Yeah?”

“I’m letting you deal with this shit because she’s your ma, but I’d really like to take over and explain to them that you’re
fucking
,” —he glared at her mother— “mine.”

“Yeah?” she sighed and smiled at him. She liked hearing him say that even if he looked like he’d happily murder her mother and Harvey. He was gorgeous even with the half-formed snout, midnight eyes, and furry cheeks.

“Yeah,” he rumbled.

Did she want him to teach them both a lesson? Sure.

Would she let him? No. She liked having a mate
not
in jail.

She huffed and focused on the two people before her once more. “Last chance here. You both leave and I don’t hear from either of you again, or I let him eat you for dinner.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Kill a Baxter?”

“Look, lady, I work construction and cement doesn’t give a fuck what your last name is when I bury a body.”

That had them both freezing and then…

Pop!
Her mother—no lie—popped a whisker.

That right there was worth being stalked by Harvey.

Foster growled and pushed forward once more, forcing Mel to take a step.

Pop! Pop!
Oh, Harvey was sporting two little whiskers now, too.

She couldn’t wait to call Paige and tell her.

“Leave.”
That single roared word was enough to get her visitors going. They bypassed the elevator, choosing the stair exit. Smart since she wasn’t sure how much longer Foster would remain in check.

The second the exit door thumped shut, she stepped forward and slid her key into the lock.

“Well, that was fun.” If she pretended her family hadn’t embarrassed the hell out of her, maybe he wouldn’t notice. “Now that we know what Harvey’s deal was, do you still want me—”

“Doll.” One word said so much.

Doll, that was fucked up.

Doll, lemme kill your people.

Doll, are you fucking kidding?

Melanie slowly turned to face him, keys still clenched in her hand. “Yeah?”

“Get your stuff. I don’t care if you think the drama with your ex is handled or not. I won’t be able to rest until I’ve got you in my den. You’re mine. I want you there.”

All right then.

***

His mate, in his den. That needed to happen, like yesterday, since his idiot bear was likely to make an appearance and rip the arms and legs off any male who even looked in Mel’s direction. But at the same time, having her in his den scared the ever-loving crap out of him. He’d never thought about having a mate, unless it was in the abstract, stroke material sort of way, let alone having one that was so tiny and curvy and…

He bit back a groan as his body rose to the occasion. Spectacularly. Forget tools, if he was on site, he was freaking hard enough to punch holes through wood without them.

But his mate was a ferret. Cute, furry, and so freaking tiny that his lumbering, clumsy ass of a bear could easily squash her. Flat. That was not sexy. So not sexy. Even his bear’s assurance it had no interest in squishing their mate didn’t help. Especially not when it added exactly what it
did
have an interest in doing with their pretty little mate.

His bear was a pervert.

“We done?” He perked up as she appeared in front of him with a bag. “Good.”

Taking it from her with one hand and claiming hers with the other, he slung the bag over his shoulder and strode from the apartment. He held his breath as they passed through the entrance hall—his bear didn’t need any more provocation—and breathed easier once he got them out of the building and in the truck.

Driving was easy. His bear knew the concentration needed so it backed the hell off for a while, which allowed his mind to churn over. And over. Mostly, it was freaking out about his bear and her ferret. He didn’t want to hurt her, but letting her go wasn’t an option either. He didn’t realize he was brooding until she stroked down his forearm as he pulled the truck to a stop in front of his place.

“Foster? We’re good, right?”

He turned to find her looking at him, her eyes way too bright and perceptive. He opened his mouth to reassure her, but the words that popped out weren’t the ones he intended.

“Explain to me why that prick was fucking you and your sister.”

Her eyes flashed fire and her lips pursed into an angry little moue that fascinated his bear for all of…oh, two point five seconds before it fed him images of those luscious lips wrapped around his cock.

“He was
not
fucking me
and
my sister. He ‘offered’…” she made finger quotes, “to have sex with Paige when she went into heat. The second he offered to put his dick into my sister was the second he lost the right to come anywhere near me with his dick.”

The roar started at the base of his spine and hit every vertebrae on the way up. “He
WHAT?”

That did it, he was ripping off the fucker’s arms and legs. Tomorrow they were pouring concrete foundations, so it would be easy to get rid of the body.

“He’s a fucking dead man.”

“Take a number.” The tone in her voice made him whip his head around and he clocked the miserable little look in her eyes before she masked it with a smile. She looked at the building in front of them. “So this is you, huh?”

For once, his bear retreated to the back on his mind on command. Women were a different species at times and he knew better than to ignore their moods. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up. Because fucking up the emotions part would fuck the fucking part up quicker than fuck. (And yes, his bear was
really
proud of getting the word fuck into a sentence so many times. It was juvenile as well as a pervert, the worst possible combination.)