Free Novel Read

Grizzly Secret (Arcadian Bears Book 3) Page 25


  Stanton and Oleta were in their late fifties, and they had a daughter Joselyn’s age who lived nearby but had no interest in keeping up her parents’ home while they were away.

  Joselyn was still bustling around like she was on fire, making Alton chuckle. “Babe, it’s your brother, for heaven’s sake. I don’t think he cares how tidy the house is. I don’t think he’ll even notice.”

  She shot him a glare. “This is the first time any member of my family has visited me in my own home. I don’t care who it is—we’re not leaving dishes in the sink and clothes strewn around the house.”

  Alton glanced around from his spot on the couch. Not a single thing appeared out of place, but he wasn’t going to tease her anymore. He understood.

  A car pulled into the driveway, and Joselyn’s face lit up. “He’s here.”

  Alton stood to follow his mate to the door. She had it open and was standing in the threshold before Wyatt stepped out of the car.

  Alton hadn’t spent much time with Wyatt yet, but every time Alton saw him, he was reminded how intimidating the man could appear. With his height, six-seven, and his build, he would stop many people in their tracks—especially non-shifters. But as Wyatt approached the front porch, Alton remembered his stature was only one aspect of Wyatt Arthur.

  He had wavy dark hair that he wore slightly longer than most would. It dipped over his forehead, causing him to run his fingers through it often or shake it away from his face. And his smile. No wonder Joselyn had always adored him. He lit up a room with his warmth.

  “Hey, Jos,” Wyatt said as he stepped into her space and gave her a big hug. He reached out a hand to Alton next and gave a firm shake. “You gonna have me inside? Or shall we stand in the cold?” he teased.

  Joselyn swatted at him and backed into the entrance where Alton had already moved out of the way. “Come in.”

  Wyatt glanced around as he stepped inside. “Love it. Did you say you’re renting it from Stanton and Oleta Osborn?”

  “Yes. Do you know them?” Joselyn asked.

  Wyatt nodded. “I’ve met them a few times. They’re professors at U of C, right?”

  “Yes. Literature and history,” Alton confirmed. “Neither Jos nor I ever had them in school.”

  Wyatt wandered to the mantel and picked up a family photo. He tapped it with one finger. “That’s right. They have a son and two daughters. I’ve met the oldest, Nolan, a few times. He’s a few years younger than me. Isaiah’s age. I think Isaiah met him at U of C. He has an accounting degree if I remember correctly.”

  Joselyn headed toward the fridge. “Huh. Small world. I’ve never heard of them before now, but you’re right. Their daughters are Ryann and Paige. Paige is my age. She lives close by. I haven’t met Ryann or Nolan yet.”

  Alton grabbed two of the bottles Joselyn handed him and passed one to Wyatt. “Sit. Tell us what’s going on at home.” He twisted the lid off his bottle and took a drink.

  Wyatt lowered his huge frame onto one end of the couch and took a long drink of his beer, smirking when he glanced at the bottle.

  Alton chuckled. “You can switch back and forth. We have a selection from both breweries.”

  “How’s Mom?” Joselyn asked, taking a seat next to Alton on the loveseat when he grabbed her hand. They’d been together for two weeks without leaving each other’s sides often, and he still felt the need to have contact with her.

  Wyatt swirled his beer around in the bottle. “She’s okay. Tries to stay strong. I know she won’t admit it when she communicates with you, but she misses you.”

  Joselyn leaned into Alton. “It’s weird. Even though I was gone for five years, living back at home for the last two years brought us closer together.”

  Wyatt smiled. “Especially since you had so much time on your hands. Now we all know why you were such a homebody and not out scouring the town for a mate.”

  “At least I had Mom and Dad. Alton was alone in his apartment.” She burrowed closer to him.

  “Any luck finding jobs?” Wyatt asked.

  Alton shrugged. “We weren’t in a big hurry. I went on an interview this week, but I’m not sure it’s the right fit.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find something,” Wyatt said. “This close to Calgary, you have so many options.”

  “Yes.”

  “Any chance you’ll consider coming back to Silvertip?” Wyatt asked.

  Joselyn snorted. “And face Uncle Carroll and Uncle Jaren? I’m gonna need a bit more time and space from them before I’m willing to step into the brewery again. They were very nasty, and our cousins on that side of the family make me cringe.”

  Wyatt nodded. “I can totally understand. They haven’t changed, but fortunately their attitudes aren’t shared by the majority. Dad’s working with them. He’s hoping to get them to see reason. I can see the strain on Dad’s face every day. He wants to throttle them for forcing his daughter out of town.”

  Alton nodded. “My father feels the same way. His two youngest brothers are making him crazy with their incessant need to hold on to this ancient grudge.”

  Wyatt sighed. “Luckily the nastiness isn’t as apparent in the next generation. Time will heal this rift. I’m hopeful. But finding another marketing manager, now that’s another thing,” he joked, turning his gaze back to his sister.

  Joselyn laughed. “Too bad.”

  Wyatt glanced at his beer and then back at Joselyn. “We want you two to be able to come back to Silvertip. Even if you don’t return to the brewery, at least you’d be nearby. Mom will be so sad when you have kids.”

  “Maybe someday,” Alton responded. “But for now, we’re enjoying the distance. Less stress.”

  “I understand.”

  A car door shut outside, making all three of them glance at the front door. Moments later Alton recognized the new arrival as the Osborn’s youngest daughter. He stood and headed for the door as Wyatt lifted an eyebrow.

  Joselyn responded to his unasked question. “Paige. The one who’s my age. She has her own apartment. She still has some stuff here. Probably forgot something.”

  “Why isn’t she living in her parents’ home while they’re away?” Wyatt asked.

  “She already had a lease when her parents found out their sabbatical was approved. She’s working on her masters at U of C. She wanted her independence, so she decided not to break her lease. Lucky for us.”

  Alton opened the front door before Paige was close enough to knock. “Hey. What’s up?” He stepped back to let her in.

  She was breathless as she spoke rapidly. “Sorry to bother you guys. I can’t find a book I need anywhere in my apartment. I’m hoping I left it here. I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening.” She stepped fully into the house, still speaking. “I don’t want you guys to think I’m always going to be over here bugging you or anything.” Her gaze landed on Wyatt. “Oh, hello.”

  Alton shut the front door and turned to find Wyatt’s eyes a bit wide, his lips parted, and his face a little pale. It only lasted a moment, but it was long enough for Alton to catch the attraction.

  Paige licked her lips and glanced away. The twenty-four-year-old woman who rarely stopped talking was suddenly mute. Silence filled the room for several seconds.

  Finally, Wyatt pushed to standing and stepped around the coffee table. He reached out with a hand to shake hers. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Wyatt Arthur. Joselyn is my sister.”

  Paige’s voice was low and calm and slow when she responded. “Paige Osborn. My parents own this house.” She didn’t make eye contact and flinched when Wyatt touched her.

  Wyatt nodded, ignoring her reaction. “I’ve met them a few times, and your older brother Nolan.”

  Alton glanced at Joselyn in confusion. What was up with Paige? He’d never seen her so flustered. She turned pale and looked like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

  If Wyatt noticed her discomfort, he didn’t let on. Instead, he pointed at the couc
h he’d vacated. “Please sit. Join us. I just got here myself. I have a meeting tomorrow in Calgary, so I came this evening to visit my sister and see this fabulous place she and Alton have been talking about renting.”

  Paige backed into the door, grabbed the handle, and pulled it open. She never lifted her gaze as she spoke. “Sorry. I just realized where that book is.” She slapped her forehead. “It’s in my trunk. I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight. Sorry to bother you guys.” A second later, she was out the door and rushing toward her car. She didn’t even realize she’d left it standing open. Alton grabbed the doorframe, watching her reach her car.

  “Was it something I said?” Wyatt asked.

  Joselyn rushed over to join her mate, leaning around him to watch Paige pull away. “I don’t know what that was all about, but I’ve never seen Paige act so strangely.”

  Alton glanced again at Wyatt, who was rubbing his forehead with his palm as he lowered himself back onto the couch. He didn’t speak as he picked up his beer and chugged the rest of it.

  There was definitely a story behind this weird encounter, but Alton didn’t think tonight was the night to bring it up with Wyatt. Instead, he closed the door and ushered his mate back to the couch. “We need to change the subject.”

  “Apparently,” she said into his mind before addressing her brother out loud. “So, how long did you say you’re staying?”

  About the Author

  Becca Jameson is the best-selling author of the Wolf Masters series and The Fight Club series. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband and two kids. With almost 50 books written, she has dabbled in a variety of genres, ranging from paranormal to BDSM. When she isn’t writing, she can be found jogging with her dog, scrapbooking, or cooking. She doesn’t sleep much, and she loves to talk to fans, so feel free to contact her through e-mail, Facebook, or her website.

  …where Aphas dominate

  If you enjoyed this book, this author has other works available here:

  Author's Web Site

  Other Books by this Author on Amazon

  Other Books by this Author on Barnes & Noble

  Other Books by this Author on Kobo

  Hartwood Publishing delights in introducing authors and stories that open eyes, encourage thought, and resonate in the hearts of our readers.