“Well, duh,” Becca said as she reached up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his jaw. “That’s why you’re here.”
Carl blew out a breath. That was, in fact, why he was here. Meanwhile, Tonya pulled out her cell phone, clearly looking for messages. “Any news?” Her voice was as crisp as usual. And given how fast a shifter could metabolize alcohol, it was likely she was close to sober.
“Nothing new,” Mark answered. Then he glanced at Julie, wondering exactly how much she’d been told or had guessed about this morning’s attack. He was about to ask when Tonya thunked him on the back of the head. He whipped around to glare at her—or worse—only to be met with another pointed finger, this one Becca’s.
“She’s not stupid, and we like her.”
“Definitely,” Tonya added.
“So tell her the truth,” Becca continued.
“I have,” he growled. “I am.” He’d been honest with her from the very beginning and was set to answer all the rest of her questions tonight.
“Not that truth,” Becca said. And when he frowned, Tonya put up her hands like bear claws and growled. Becca giggled as she continued. “We told her about shifters.” She pressed her hand flat on Mark’s chest. “She needs this truth. The heart stuff.”
His heart? He didn’t have one anymore. Not for a few years now since he realized there was no hope left for him.
“Don’t you look away from me,” Becca snapped in her sharpest stern-mother voice. “There’s still time.”
Was there? He looked at Julie, who was watching everything with wide eyes. Watching, but not expressing. He had no idea what she was thinking and that made man and bear twitchy. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he said to her.
Julie bit into her lower lip. “I don’t know what to ask.”
“So work it out!” ordered Becca. For a petite human, she was stepping fully into the role of Ms. Max. Then she flashed them a beaming smile before stepping carefully out the front door. “And now we’re leaving,” she called, grabbing hold of Tonya as they headed toward Carl’s truck. For his part, Carl was shaking his head even as he turned back to Mark.
“You okay here?”
“Quit being a mother hen.”
“Quit shoving your head up your ass.” Then Carl turned to Julie. “He’s grumpy half the time, and too arrogant all of it. But he’s a good man when he comes out of that cave of a house. Please give him a chance.”
Jesus. Now he had his alpha trying to help his love life. Could anything be more humiliating? “If you don’t leave this instant, I’m going to fuck up your Internet so bad?—”
“Gotta go!” Carl said with a quick wave. “I’ll come by in the morning.”
“Come late. Like in a month.” Mark nearly shoved the man out the door.
“Roger that,” Carl said with a grin.
Neither of them had been in the military or police, but they’d both been using the term since they were eight and pretending to be part of a SWAT team. It was familiar and carried the echo of childhood games. And especially now with the end so near, it made Carl smile.
“Roger that,” he echoed. Outside, Becca started singing a mangled version of “Jack the Knife” in a belting soprano. Inside, Mark balanced awkwardly on the balls of his feet. It was a predatory stance that meant his grizzly was already stalking Julie. Which was a really bad idea since he had no clue how to read her mood.
“They’re nice people,” Julie finally said, her gaze going to the window. “Once Tonya relaxes, she’s nothing like her officer persona.”
“Really? She’s had a stick up her ass since middle school.”
“Really,” Julie said, her lips curving in a soft smile that made him want to kiss her for the rest of his life. “She’s a lot softer on the inside than she lets on. Not surprising she’s had to be tough. She’s a woman police officer.”
“And beta to Carl.”
“Right. Which means she can’t let her guard down anywhere.”
Mark prowled across the room. He wanted to sit beside her on the couch, but instead, perched gingerly on the edge of her father’s recliner. “She let it down with you.” He doubted she knew the miracle that was.
“That’s ’cause we don’t count,” Julie said, dismissing his compliment even before he got a chance to say it. “We’re not part of the pack and we’re certainly not police.”
“Becca’s Mrs. Max. She and Carl haven’t gotten married yet, but everyone knows they’re mates. That makes her part of the pack. And you…” His voice trailed away. “What did you do to get her to sing?”
