Predator's Serenade (3 page)

Ryland grinned. "Gunnar, this is my brother, Soren."

Gunnar nodded at Soren and gawked at him for a long moment, taking in every detail from hair to boots. "Dude."

Gioia clasped Soren's arm and gasped. Heat from her touch shot right up his arm, straight into his brain, and then rained hellfire into his crotch.
What in the blazes? Focus on the boy, not on her crazy witch powers!

Soren ignored the trickle of sweat dripping down the back of his neck. What was he supposed to say to this kid? He hadn't had a conversation with a child since he was one. Kids were smelly and picked their noses. They produced foul noises and licked things they shouldn't. How would he relate to this one?
Well, take a stab at it.
He nodded at Gunnar. "Little dude."

The kid stared at him. Soren wasn't sure if he should say something else, so he didn't say anything. And all the while, mommy Gioia squeezed his arm so hard he suspected one of his veins might now be severed. The feeling ought to have been uncomfortable, but much to his chagrin and astonishment, it gave him an even bigger boner.

What are you doing, you sex fiend?
he raged at himself
. There's a kid here. Think of…think of Nikita Krushchev naked in the sauna with Mikael Gorbachev. There. Boner gone
.

Almost.

"So, Gunnar," he stammered. "I hear you play drums too."

Gunnar didn't respond. He just twirled his drumsticks like a baton, tossing them into the air. It was a move Soren often employed onstage. Only, rather than catching his sticks as Soren always did, Gunnar dropped them and blushed. Fearing he might bolt up the tree again, Soren picked up the sticks and handed them to the kid.

Gunnar gaped as if he'd received the keys to the kingdom of heaven. "Thanks, dude." He then escaped up the tree again.

Ryland smiled. In fact, his brother bounced on his toes a little with excitement, and Soren worried he might receive a brother-hug. Okay, so he'd gotten some surly kid to say a total of three words. Not exactly breakthrough material.

The reaction he was most keen to see, strangely enough, was Gioia's. He turned to the woman, catching a hint of yet another bracing perfume on her body. Wait, it wasn't perfume. It was hand sanitizer.
What a mom
.

Another scent emanated from her at the same time, one he hadn't smelled on anyone he knew in a long time, and certainly not one that was ever directed at him.

Ire.

He took a closer look at Gioia Clementine. She was prettier than he'd originally suspected, with almond-shaped dark eyes and olive skin. There was an interesting trail of brown freckles under her right eye.

Her eyes were now narrowed in clear anger. A blush of fury colored her cheeks, ornamenting her face right down to her rounded nostrils.

"Gioia?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"The first words he's said in weeks," she spat. Her spectacular chest rose and fell with her jerky breath. "Why did he have to say them to you?" With that, she turned and hurried out of the clearing toward the lodge. On her way, she tripped over her feet a couple of times. Her swearing echoed in the woods. “Fuck nuggets!”

Soren found himself admiring her cursing ability. As one whose own language was often peppered with expletives, variety was a quality he respected in others, especially women.

He stared after her, his bear roaring in apprehension inside him. And his boner was back big time. He looked at his brother, at a complete loss. "What did I do?"

Ry merely patted him on the back and curled his lip in sympathy. "Welcome back to Gemini Island, bro."

* * * *

Gioia wasn't sure why she fled from Soren Snow. After all, the man had managed to pry several syllables out of her son, which was more than she'd been able to do in months. She should be thanking Soren. She should be genuflecting before the rock god and offering her humble thanks and praise for his kind attention to a poor soul.

However, she really just wanted to hit him.

She stopped running when she got close to the cobbled pathway leading to the lodge entrance. Picking out a nearby park bench, Gioia sat. As relaxing as the surroundings were, her heart fluttered with unease. She concentrated on a small group of children playing on one of the expansive lawns and grinned at their antics. She wanted Gunnar to feel free like that. He used to be carefree and innocent. Not anymore.

Gioia swallowed hard in an attempt to dislodge the lump in her throat. She wrestled with ragged emotions, the same ones that had been pushing her to the edge for weeks, for months. She felt like crying all the time, which was unusual. She wasn't a crier; hadn't been since Paul died, when all her tears dried up. She generally had no time for moping anyway. Between working her day job as an office manager for an accounting company and caring for Gunnar, she wasn't at liberty to carve out chunks of time to bare her soul. But since arriving at the Ursa Lodge, her eyes seemed constantly waterlogged.

She just wanted her son, her only child, to be happy. He'd almost looked happy when he'd mumbled those three words to Soren Snow. And all the musician had said was "little dude." Bond established instantly. Even though she'd spent endless days appealing to Gunnar, encouraging him and offering to listen to him, he'd been moved by "little dude."

She supposed if the words had come from someone else, like Ryland or Lia, she wouldn't have minded. But because they'd been mumbled by a man who was the antithesis of everything she stood for, it stung. Soren Snow of the interminable line of celebrity girlfriends, designer jeans, and a face whose features were arranged so perfectly it seemed criminal.

His appearance in person had stunned her; she couldn't deny it. For Christ’s sake, seeing him had almost caused her to fall to the ground. His longish-blond hair reminded her of that movie actor she liked, the one who was in all those period pieces. Long enough to pull back and soft enough you wanted to release it from its elastic and feel it falling over your fingers. His cat-like blue eyes were unusual, almost Asian in their tapered contours, making him appear even more mysterious. Unfortunately, they seemed to be constantly appraising her and finding her lacking. And that body…well, she might be a mother to a tween, but she still understood the power of heaven-sent proportions. He stood about six feet three, but appeared even more imposing when you factored in his obvious strength. Thanks to his drumming, or perhaps a battalion of expensive personal trainers, Soren absolutely rippled with muscle. It coursed along his broad shoulders, curved over his biceps, and teased from under his Hugo Boss jersey shirt. And you just knew he was the sort of man who looked even more devastating in the nude.

Insult added to injury? Check.

Not that it mattered. She was here to help her son, not feel sharp pangs of embarrassing lust. She adjusted the way she was sitting on the bench. Damn, somehow Soren Snow had managed to ooze right under her skin. How had that happened?

Okay, he was crazy hot, she could admit it. And the famous lothario must think she was an emotional nutcase.
Way to make a first impression, G
.

Gioia stared at the hands in her lap, frowning at her cracked knuckles, so dried from washing dishes at home. Her nails were clipped and short for work, chipped in a couple of places, and in desperate need of a manicure. Sex goddess hands…in a parallel universe, maybe.

She heard footsteps approaching. She looked up and saw her second cousin Wes. Wes Clementine was a bear shifter who'd made it his mission to spend as much time as possible with Gioia and Gunnar since Paul's demise. She appreciated it, seeing as Gunnar didn't deem her worthy of conversation. Wes had not only been Paul’s cousin but his best friend, and he was one of the few stable male influences her son had in his life. So when Wes had suggested he come along on the retreat to the lodge, Gioia had jumped at the opportunity. It was important for Gunnar to know his family cared.

If only he hadn’t been acting so strange lately. There was a new, curious light in Wes’ eyes, and it always seemed trained on her. She dismissed the thought as usual, figuring she was reading the wrong emotions in his heated looks. "Hi, Wes."

Her relative smiled and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder. He drew her close and kissed her forehead. "You're worrying again. Don't. It'll all work out in the end."

"Promise?"

"Promise, sunshine."

He picked up her hand and stroked it, running his thumb over her palm in a caress that felt way too intimate to be appropriate for second cousins. Gioia slid her hand out of his as awkward heat scored her skin. He regarded her with obvious interest for a moment, took a breath, and then spoke. “So, did you and the boy meet the big rock star?” He sniffed, a look of disdain marring his handsome features.

Gioia knew his opinions about getting Soren Snow involved in their problems. Wes was suspicious of anyone outside their circle to begin with; most shifters just had to live by that code. But when she’d mentioned Gunnar might be meeting his idol, Wes had been quick to register his disapproval. She couldn’t blame him. He felt just as she did.

“Wes, what do you want me to do? I’m at the end of my rope.”

The shifter’s lips tightened, and he rested his forearms on his knees, contemplating. “Gunnar just needs more time with his family. With us. We’ll set him straight, you and I.”

“I don’t think we have the luxury of time anymore. It’s been almost a year since the accident,” she argued. “We need to reach Gunnar sooner rather than later.”

He leaned into her, his thigh brushing hers. She slid away a degree. “I’m not criticizing you, sunshine. I know how hard it’s been, and I miss Paul too. I’d give anything to have him back. I just don’t want Gunnar to get his hopes up this Snow person is going to become his fancy new best friend and fix all his problems.”

“I know. I don’t want that, either.” She considered the short exchange with Soren and Gunnar. “But I think he’s already made a bit of an impression on him. Gunnar spoke.”

Wes’ eyes widened. “Really?” However, within seconds, he once again resembled a bear whose salmon had been stolen away. “Well, let’s just hope Soren Snow doesn’t run off with some movie starlet just when Gunnar needs him most. Didn’t he just have an affair with that ditz from the reality show?”

“Just because
The Examiner
prints it doesn’t mean it’s true,” she said softly.

His suspicious laugh stung her for some reason. “I’m sorry, Gioia, I have my doubts about the man’s reputation.”

“I know. And if I see he’s a bad influence, I’ll tell him to back off. No one will hurt my son while I’m alive and kicking.”

Wes rubbed her shoulders and smiled. “You’d make a good lady bear, Gioia.”

She stared into the distance, not focusing on anything in particular. “Yeah, well, I’ve given up hope of that ever happening. If it didn’t happen with Paul, it certainly won’t happen with anyone else.”

Wes grew serious, his brows knit in a frown. “You don’t know that.” He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, letting his fingers graze her lobe. “It could still happen, you know. With the right man.”

Oh, ick!
She shook her head, effectively removing Wes’ fingers from her ear. She’d been trying to convince herself she was wrong, but she was pretty sure Paul’s cousin was coming on to her. He’d already made a few comments that felt distinctly non-familial, but she’d managed to change the subject every time he did. Wes had only ever been a friend, Paul’s good friend. She just didn’t see him in a romantic light.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

What the…

“Come on,” Wes teased with a shrug. “Nothing wrong with keeping it in the family.”

“Oh, Wes. Not you too?” Had the whole world eaten a loco pill? Ever since Paul’s death, men had been acting strangely around her. It seemed she was always fending off bizarre advances, often from men she didn’t know. She didn’t have the energy to deal with it. No. Her son was the priority and always would be.

As Gioia swallowed yet another prickly lump of emotion, she heard shuffling on the walkway. She looked toward the sound and saw Ryland returning with Soren.

The percussionist spotted her and Wes. His gaze lingered where Wes’ hand touched her shoulder, and then he looked at her. A crazed fury emanated from him as his gaze darted quickly between her face and Wes. Soren’s gorgeous lips twisted, his face turned scarlet, and he breathed so hard she feared he might explode into a puff of smoke like on a cartoon. When his left eye twitched, Gioia really started to wonder.
Seriously, what the…

Ryland looked between the three of them, He paled, and Gioia saw him mouth the words, “Steady, bro.” He grabbed at Soren’s elbow, but the fair-haired brother charged toward her and her kinsman, his hair flying in the breeze created by his speed.

What was wrong with him?

“Soren,” she began in a tentative tone, feeling she needed to placate him for some strange reason.

He stopped short in front of them, his gaze narrowed on Wes as if the other man were a poisonous viper wrapped around her. He addressed her in a cracking voice. “Gioia. Who’s your…
friend
?”

Ryland rushed over with the intensity of one who knew he was about to break up a fight. And Wes, being a bear shifter and just as territorial as any other, stood and took up a spot in front of Gioia in Soren’s way.

Uh oh
. She didn’t know what was going on here, but it was in no way good.

She looked around Wes’ big body and whispered to Ryland, “Is he having a fit?”

Soren’s eyes bugged out. “No, I am not having a fit!” And then he stomped around in a circle, pounding the pavement so hard pebbles flew, clearly having a fit.

Wes put out a hand. “Look, man, I don’t know what your issue is, but you can take it away from the lady.”

Soren stopped pacing, stood still, and offered Wes a withering glare fashioned of icicles and death. “And
you
can f—”

“Soren,” Ryland said as he jumped in and pushed his brother back. “Didn’t you need to unpack? Like, now?” He gritted his teeth and stood his ground.