Nate

Chapter 1Nate grimaced as he entered the darkened room of a small-town watering hole. Seemingly everyone in a fifty-mile radius had crammed themselves into the establishment, filling up the tables surrounded with chairs and nearly all the stools at the bar. If that wasn’t enough, loud music blared from speakers bracketing the ends of a stage situated front and center in the room. That, he could live with. It was the horrendous singing which hurt his ears and made his inner moose demand an about-face and march out in protest. Just wonderful. I drove all the way here to get away from all the stress for a while only to land right smack in the middle of karaoke night. His shoulders fell as he glanced across the room and debated his next option. A recently cleared stool at the bar made the decision for him. I’ll stick around for one drink. Not like there’s a big hurry to move on or return home. He’d opted to indulge in a vacation a couple of days ago. Escape. Just get away. To see a different part of the country while drowning his heartache in whatever caught his interest at the moment. Three hours away from home and I’m not sure it’s far enough. He cringed at the mention of home. The Bluebird Valley Preserve served as both his workplace and his living area, as it did for many others. A sanctuary of sorts. The thousands of acres of natural habitat provided a haven for both wild animals and those carrying similar genes. Shifters, one way or another, found their way to Bluebird Valley to heal, find solace, and perhaps discover a permanent home with likeminded souls. Most didn’t fit in with mainstream life and carried a flood of secrets. Yet, they could live in the preserve without judgment or ridicule. A wonderful, precious place to call home. Fine and dandy, except when the man he’d loved from day one mated another. On the outside, he couldn’t be happier for Thor and Zach. On the inside, his heart broke and he’d never felt lonelier. Considering his upbringing, that said something. He didn’t begrudge Thor and Zach their joy in each other. He begrudged the fact that it wasn’t him in Zach’s position. “What’s your poison?” a burly barkeep with a bald head asked in a bored tone. “Beer. Tap.” Nate never cared for hard liquor or strong brews. The rare occasions he ventured out, he stuck to the basics. By the time he plunked down a few dollars, the man had placed a clear glass filled with amber liquid and a foamy head directly in front of him. With a nod of thanks, Nate took a long drink. “This seat taken?” Nate swiveled in his seat to find a tall man with wavy, light brown hair staring at him. The locks reflected the light to show a mixture of flaxen interspersed with darker strands. The kaleidoscope proved interesting. The ends tickled the man’s shoulders while his bangs were snipped shorter. Nate didn’t know much about hair color, but he sensed this didn’t come out of box. The man filled out his jeans and shirt well, not with fat, but muscle mass. As impressive as that was, it was his intense amber eyes that snared Nate’s attention. He could easily get lost in the solid, bright color. Jeans appeared painted over a muscular frame while a dark sweatshirt covered wide shoulders. Brown loafers completed the package. Odd, he’d have expected work boots judging by his first impression of the guy. Outdoorsy and down to earth radiated from the man. Fashionable and upscale weren’t even close. “All yours.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the racket on stage and the slightly less muffled noise of a couple dozen people chatting away. Ignoring the proximity of the man, Nate turned back around to watch the happenings in the room from the mirror hung on the opposite wall and above the head of the barkeeper. A couple walked arms around one another to the dance stage. Once they reached the center, they stepped into an embrace that could only be called intimate. The way they gazed into one another’s eyes while moving to the slow song, made Nate long for the adoration he saw in their expressions while another wave of sadness washed over him. What would it be like to have someone look at me like that? Diverting his focus, he opted for a distraction from the lovers. The man next to him fit the bill. Casually sipping his beverage, Nate drew in the scent of the newcomer. Shifter, without a doubt. The exact variety escaped him, although he narrowed it down to something other than a predator. In a room filled with humans, the guy stood out, for all kinds of reasons. Including the spicy yet sweet scent which reminded Nate way too much of fresh pumpkin pie. His stomach growled at the very thought of his favorite dessert. Nate chided himself to ignore the temptation. Socializing appealed less to him than making a beeline for home. Simply sitting on the stool and keeping his thoughts to himself made for the best scenario considering the jammed club he’d chosen to visit. Yet, every sense fixated on the man next to him. A diversion. Perhaps the one thing Nate had been unwittingly searching for. “Beer, please,” the man ordered. He took the offered bottle in hand, removed the cap, dropped it on the counter, and spun around on the stool to face the center of the room. He took a small swallow. “Name’s Donner.” Nate blinked. Must be a last name. He couldn’t imagine naming a child that for a first name. Talk about fuel for teasing as a kid. “Nate.” Manners demanded he share that much about himself. Though, why he bothered, he had no idea. Just that the man compelled him to let his hair down for a brief moment. His senses, instead of broadcasting a warning, headed toward enthralled and giddy. A novel experience and one Nate wasn’t sure how to handle. “What do you do for a living?” Donner spared him a glance as he returned to surveying the room. “I’m in the delivery business. And you?” “More organization and management.” Not willing to spill the beans about Bluebird Valley so readily, Nate opted to follow Donner’s example of answering with vagueness. More than once he wished for Thor’s ability to search another person’s mind, to determine their inner thoughts, wishes, and intentions. Without the gift, Nate could only go with his gut, though no red flags chimed loudly in his head. Still, caution ruled. “Corporate?” Donner asked. Nate shrugged. “Not quite. More like middle management and small numbers.” “Bummer. Hard place to be.” Yeah, you can say that again. Though he really couldn’t complain. The preserve ran smoothly and Thor wasn’t much of a hard-nosed task master. Another guy took to the small stage and belted out a song. Not quite as terrible as the first, by a teeny margin. Maybe. Nate shook his head and took another sip. “You sing?” Donner inquired. “Not much. You?” “A little.” Donner eyed the stage and inclined his head. “Better than this guy, that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced as the man attempted a high note which came across as a shriek. The song ended, not soon enough in Nate’s opinion, and the room fell to murmurs and clinking of glasses. “Come on.” Donner stood up. Nate blinked at him. Surely, he can’t be inviting me for a quick slap and a tickle. Not this soon. “What?” Donner grinned wide enough to show straight white teeth. “Let’s take the stage and sing.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you were all primed and set for something else.” “Umm.” Nate sputtered for a second. “Let’s go show them how it’s done. The stage is ours.” Donner latched onto Nate’s arm, gave a hard tug, and half dragged him up the couple of steps to the landing. He picked up two microphones from a nearby chair, handing one to Nate. In the other hand, he snagged a remote and scrolled through song titles listed on the karaoke machine. Nate covered the mic with his hand. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. Singing isn’t my forte.” “Aha. Yes, this will work just fine.” Donner clicked a button, set the remote aside, and arched an eyebrow at Nate. “Couldn’t be worse than the last one. Besides, it’s good to try new things once in a while.” The dare was clear in Donner’s expression. Nate squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. He might totally stink, but he’d bluff his way through, as if he were tone deaf and believed he could sing like a rock and roll star. Like some people did in the shower or their car. “Under Pressure” popped up on the karaoke machine’s screen, words included. Nate drew in a breath. At least I know this one. Hell, I live it. Donner lifted the mic closer to his mouth and began to sing. The words delivered in a smooth baritone carried easily to Nate’s ears. Holy s**t. His butt and libido chimed in as well as the stage seemed to vibrate with the lower notes. Nate’s mouth dropped open as he took in the beautiful, unusual voice. So distracted and frankly turned on, he nearly missed his cue for his part. A nudge from Donner’s elbow got him started. He fell into an octave above Donner, matching his notes in a weaving harmony that earned applause across the room even before the song ended. Pleasantly surprised, Nate couldn’t quite make his feet leave the stage. Instead, he stared into Donner’s grinning face. He’d never sung like that before. Not even close. Yet, somehow, combined with Donner’s voice, his took on a whole new ability. With anticipation, he waited for the next selection to pop up. “You’re The One That I Want” flashed on the screen. Not the greatest option, but Nate went with the flow. After all, he couldn’t just refuse to sing and walk off. Well, he could, but not with Donner meeting his gaze with such captivating interest. The cocky smile that followed spoke clearly of another challenge—one Nate wasn’t about to lose. This time, they faced one another as they sang, breaking eye contact now and again to glimpse the words projected on a nearby screen. Nate found the moment both magical and intimate, much more than he’d ever experienced before. Totally absorbed into Donner, he realized the rush of singing with him, how their voices interlaced and blossomed into something striking. He’d never considered himself a great vocalist. Yet, with Donner, they outshone what Nate had heard already by miles. Something about Donner’s baritone made all the difference in the world. It certainly flicked my turn-on switch, too. He shoved the odd thought aside and focused on holding up his part, all the way through to the end. The entire time, the words expressed how he felt at that very moment. Donner’s voice, his s*x appeal, his closeness, and the unmistakable scent of fresh pumpkin pie coming from the man lashed Nate’s hormones into a frenzy. His randy c**k responded to the point of throbbing. Unusual, except during time of rut. Considering that particular time of year was months away, he could only lay the blame on Donner. One glance at his singing partner told the story—Donner’s expression and the longing in his eyes reflected what Nate knew to be on his own face. Want came across, as did horniness. The potent aroma of lust became undeniable. Nate laid his mic to the side and stepped off the stage to the sound of lingering applause. No matter how long I’ve been without, I’m not about to jump into the sack with some guy that I just met minutes ago. No way. No how. It smacked of desperation and his pride wouldn’t dip that low. Donner caught up with him at the bar. “This song calls for a dance.” Without further notice, Donner latched on Nate’s arm, swung him into his embrace, and snugged them close together. The singer on stage didn’t matter, nor did his voice or the particular song. All those things faded away as Nate melted into Donner’s arms. Nate’s feet moved to the slow beat, each motion causing their bodies to brush up against one another. Knowing he’d regret it, Nate lifted his gaze and stared Donner straight in the eyes, their similar heights allowing for the meeting. If the closeness wasn’t enough to get his engine revving, the simmering, banked fire in Donner’s eyes did the trick.