His dad grunted in agreement. That was one thing he’d learned over the years. He could tell one grunt from another better than anyone. Surprising, since he hardly spent any time in his dad’s company. Not when his father was consumed with teaching Ty everything about being Itan.
At the same time, he taught Keen how not to be a father.
“Mom, what are you guys doing here?” He shoved the words passed panicked lips.
“Well, you knew we were coming. Mia’s about to give birth and Lauren is pregnant and—”
“After the birth, Ma. You weren’t supposed to be here for a few weeks.” It was what he’d counted on. It was going to give him time to get to know Trista before his parents descended. They hadn’t been the greatest parents, but they were the only ones he had, so Trista would have to meet them. Then, not now.
Then.
“Oh, well.” She waved her hand. “Ty called and he was in a tizzy—”
His dad grunted again, telling Keen his father was disgusted with his eldest brother.
“And then Van was being bothersome.”
Another grunt. Okay, Dad was furious with Van.
“So we came a little early to visit a little longer.” His mother finished with a wide smile as if all was right in the world.
Dad’s latest grunt told him they were there to meddle.
Great.
“Plus, Isaac is on his way. He wasn’t going to come home for Mia, but I told him she’d feel better if the clan’s Healer was here.” Dad actually broke away from grunts for a snort which earned him a glare from Mom. “So he’ll be here tomorrow along with Mia’s father.”
Isaac was supposed to be in Cutler, helping Mia’s father keep the town under control and lead the clan. It was one that Mia’s dad had once upon a time belonged to, but the old—now dead—Itan had been a dick and ran Mia and her parents out of town.
“Won’t Cutler need them?” He wasn’t sure he could deal with Isaac if his brother’s hatred ran as deep as Van’s.
“Oh, no, they have things fairly settled and calm.”
Keen looked to his dad and noticed the eye roll. Wow, the old man had become rather demonstrative in his old age. “Okay, so everyone will be hanging around?”
“Of course, dear.” His mother patted his chest. “Now, let me meet my new daughter-in-law and then we can tour the house. I love these old homes, all big and beautiful. Did I spy a treehouse in the backyard?” Mom tried to reach around him and he cut her off.
He loved his mother, but he wasn’t about to inflict her on Trista. “Not without me.”
His mom sniffed. “That’s rude.”
“We can see it together. Dad, you want to come?” His father stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave a grunt Keen didn’t recognize.
“No, you stay here with your father. I’ll keep—Trista is it?—company.” She stepped left and hopped up a stair before he could stop her.
“
Mom
,” he murmured and that earned him another pat.
“You talk with your father. I promise not to scare your mate away.”
Keen flicked his gaze from his mom to his father and back again. “Mom…”
“Show him the yard. Talk to him. You two haven’t ever done enough of that and you need to.” She reached down and actually swatted his ass as if he were a five-year-old being sent away. “Now, go.”
With that, she snatched Trista’s hand and half-dragged his mate up the stairs. The last thing he saw was her fearful, panicked expression. If he wasn’t faced with having to speak with his father, he would have rescued her. As it was, he couldn’t exactly turn his back on the man who could—even at over sixty—kick his ass without trying. Ty wasn’t a match for Keen, but Dad… that was a different story.
He stared at his father, trying his best to read the older man’s expression, and came up with nothing. It was a look he’d never seen on his dad’s face, one of guilt and sadness? Nah, it had to be indigestion or something.
With a jerk of his chin, his dad urged him to the backyard and Keen took the silent order. They wove their way past the crooked piles of boxes and he pushed the back double doors open with a gentle nudge. They’d been left unlatched after bringing the massive couch into the house.
Keen padded over the worn wood of the back porch and strode to the railing. He gripped the bar, using it for support as well as a reminder that he was human, that he had hands not claws and they needed to stay that way. He couldn’t let go of the banister, not for anything.
“What really brought you here, Dad?”
He got the usual sound, the one that told Keen he was being impatient and it annoyed his father. Fine, he’d keep his mouth shut then.
With a sigh, his father took up position beside him, mirroring Keen’s stance.
Then his dad spoke. It was only two words, but they would forever change Keen’s life.
“I’m sorry.”
He cleared his throat, stalling for time as he rolled those two words through his mind. His dad was sorry?
Sorry?
“For what?” Keen rasped, surprise still clouding his throat. He hadn’t heard of his father apologizing. To anyone. Ever.
Dad coughed and he gripped the railing as hard as Keen, his knuckles white against the tan hue of his skin. “For Quinn.”
Keen grimaced and turned his head, not wanting his dad to see the tears gathering in his eyes.
“For Jessa,” he rasped.
A shudder wracked his body and he fought to remain upright.
“For it all,” his dad whispered. “For it all.”
Keen pushed away from the railing, fighting his bear with every flex of muscle and shift of bone. The animal wanted to rage at his father. The man was apologizing too little, too late. He couldn’t change and suddenly become a normal bear who could keep his cool. A bear who wouldn’t shift and attack with the hint of disrespect.
“I can’t do this.” Not today. Not now. Maybe not ever. His father’s voice followed him as he strode through the house, the familiar bass yelling for him to come back.
It wasn’t happening.
He raised his voice, loud enough to be heard through the whole home. “Trista!” He needed her, needed her skin beneath his palms and heat sinking into his soul. The bear was restless, nearing closer and closer to the edge of his control. “Trista!”
The rapid thump of her feet on the old wood preceded her appearance. Eyes wide, a hint of panic in her gaze, and the animal was immediately focused on her. It wanted to destroy whatever scared her while soothing her as well. Convenient that he could handle both since he was the one that frightened her with his bellow.
“Keen? Wha—?”
He reached out and tugged her into his arms, breathing in her sweet scent and letting it soothe his heart. His father’s words tormented him, poked and prodded at old memories. Thankfully Trista was able to calm the raging beast.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, long and lingering as he brought in more of her flavors. “Grab your purse, we’re leaving.”
“But—”
“Please, Tris. I’ll explain, but I gotta get out of here right now.”
Keen allowed her to pull away and he focused on her upturned face. Her eyes stroked him and she must have seen something that swayed her to listen to him. The next thing he knew, his mate was racing away, intent on doing as he asked. While she’d disappeared for a moment, his father entered the house as his mother delicately made her way down the stairs.
“Keen Lincoln, what are you doing?” His mom’s voice was chiding and filled with love.
“Trista and I are getting out of here.” He sighed. “I can’t do this, Mom.”
She’d always acted as an intermediary. When she was available. The thought made him sound ungrateful, but the fact was, he still held a lot of bitterness where his parents were concerned. If it were simply a matter of them not being as attentive as he would have liked, it would have been fine. But their disinterest led to something far more dangerous, far more deadly. For which Quinn and Jessa paid the price.
“I’m sorry.”
Dad should have said that to Quinn’s and Jessa’s parents, not him.
A hint of sadness and remorse filled her gaze and she reached for him, her thin aged hand trembling, and he stepped out of reach. “I can’t.” With Trista not at his side, he wasn’t sure how he’d react. Then his mate was with him, her hand in his, trust filling the connection. “Ask me to dinner, to visit, but don’t ask for forgiveness and don’t ask me to relive it.”
Tears clouded his mother’s eyes. “And what about the family? Your brothers?”
Keen gently squeezed Trista, welcoming the warmth her body emitted. “They made their choices and I made mine. This is my mate and we’ll make our own family.”
“Don’t—Don’t run away like this, Keen, sweetheart, please. We don’t have to talk about— Let’s go out and—”
He shook his head. “Not now, not today. I’m taking Trista shopping.” Anywhere they weren’t. “I’d appreciate it if you were gone when we returned.” He swallowed his heart cracking and healing in equal measure. Part of him ached for the approval and love of his parents. The other part, his bear, reminded him of the pain they’d caused. What made today any different from yesterday or the day before? Nothing. No, it was Trista. Trista who he’d defended with his life while his brothers were so intent on ending hers.
For once in Keen’s life, he’d stood up for himself and what he believed. For the first time in his life,
he’d
been the source of conflict within the family. He hadn’t been the crazy boy who was overlooked in favor of his brothers and he wasn’t the child that’d decimated… If he wouldn’t let his father talk about it, he’d be damned if he let those memories surface.
He had to focus. They were here because he wasn’t acting like the Keen they knew. He didn’t look like the Keen they were familiar with because he
wasn’t
the Keen they’d grown up with. He was better. He had Trista.
Keen’s emotions were palpable, flowing from his hand to hers as he led her toward his SUV. She sensed his unease, his anger, and frustration. As well as his vulnerability.
Trista wasn’t sure what’d happened when he went to the porch with his father, but it had obviously not ended well. Judging by the blank mask covering his expression, she knew it’d been more than unsettling. He attempted to appear unaffected, but she knew him now.
He helped her into the vehicle and then moved to his side, climbing behind the steering wheel. It didn’t take him long to get underway and racing along the streets of Grayslake.
Instead of heading to the center of town where the stores were located, he picked a road out of Grayslake. He steered them toward the open fields that led to forests that led to… the lake.
With his speed, it didn’t take long to arrive at their destination. The SUV bounced over the rise and fall of the earth, bumping over fallen trees and dipping into natural ditches, before he finally drew the vehicle to a sudden, dust-stirring stop.
As the dirt cleared, she found herself staring at the smooth, placid surface of the lake, its soothing waves lapping at the rough shore.
“Keen?” She reached out for him, gently laying her hand atop his forearm and brushing his smooth, fur-lined skin.
“C’mon. I wanna show you something.” He pushed from the SUV, leaving her to scramble after him.
And she hurried to catch up with his long-legged stride as he made his way along the rock-strewn ground. He strode over small patches of gravel and large clumps of stones, never slowing his pace.
She wanted to stop and enjoy the view, marvel at nature’s painting and the fresh air that surrounded Grayslake. Instead, she raced after him. Normally she’d whine and cower, unwilling for a gorgeous man like Keen to see her jiggle. But there were more important things than vanity, weren’t there?
Staring at the stiff line of Keen’s spine, the way his hands trembled even though he’d fisted them to prevent the shakes, the brown fur coating his arms and the tautness of his clothes…
Yes, there were more important things in the world. Mainly: Keen.
How long did they travel before his pace finally slowed? A half hour? A full hour? How about two? Trista didn’t know. All she did was keep her attention fully focused on his back, watching the shift of muscles while he kept his determined stride steady. She was exhausted, beyond exhausted, but hadn’t said a word. Not when his bear so obviously rode him hard. She didn’t want to set off the animal. He wanted her with him so she did her best to keep pace.
It hadn’t been easy and by the time he stopped, by the time he crumpled to the ground just inside the mouth of a small cave and leaned against the roughhewn wall, she was ready to collapse. Hell, she did collapse into an undignified, roughly panting heap. There was no grace in sprawling spread-eagle on the ground. There was only relief at the fact the man wasn’t forcing her to take another step.
A low, masculine whimper flowed into a gentle, rolling growl and suddenly Keen’s hands were on her, pulling her from the earth and into his lap.
“Oh, Tris. I’m sorry, baby.” He made another whining sound, his hands sliding over her skin, massaging her muscles. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you out here.”
Yes, he should have, because he obviously needed her.
“I’m…” She drew more air into her lungs. She couldn’t lie to the man. He was a shifter, he would have scented her deception. Instead, she went for the shined up truth. “Fine-ish.”
His furred arms wrapped around her waist and he buried his face against her neck, breathing deep and stirring her hair with every exhale. They sat there, she trying to catch her breath while he seemed intent on drawing in as much of her scent as he could.
Like at the bed-and-breakfast, the soft lapping of the lake lulled her, encouraged her heart to resume its normal beat as her breathing calmed. Her body matched the ebb and flow of the water, forcing her to relax into Keen’s embrace. As the tension inside her drained, so did her mate’s until they moved as one.
Slowly his tanned skin was revealed and then his body deflated in a heaving rush as if he were a popped balloon.
“Keen,” she whispered, unwilling to break nature’s spell. “Are you okay?”
He nuzzled her neck, tickling her skin, but she resisted the need to pull away from his touch. It was obvious he needed to lean on
her
. Her entire life, she’d fought to be independent, living with her mother and without the need to depend on another. Especially after Mr. Scott. Funny how she never referred to him as “Dad.”