Hidden Trouble: Hidden Runaways, #1

By Jules Crisare

A Silver Sentinel Kind of Runaway Bride Romance

He's a retired SEAL and friend of Broken Peak Pack, she left her clan and the mate chosen for her behind. But she's his first love and he's determined to save her … if they can navigate the relationship minefield.

Boone Freeman has a legendary reputation as a SEAL, both as a team leader and a man who doesn't do relationships. Ever. After retiring from the Navy, at the request of his old friend Vixen he comes to Broken Peak, where fate has plans for him that includes more than just missions.

When he finally talks with one of the shifters in Hidden Clan, she threatens his commitment to no commitments.

Bella is beautiful, intelligent, and a fierce mountain lion shifter, but she has a problem. The male her former Clan Chief chose for her won't take no for an answer, even after she ran away to the sanctuary of her uncle's clan.

When her rejected mate's obsession turns deadly, love confronts the danger. Will Bella lose the man she loves or will her love be enough to save Boone?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Silver Orb Books
• Release date: Jun 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201790523

Book preview

One

Boone wrenched his shoulder while running the obstacle course from hell that Vixen had created in the middle of the woods in Broken Peak. Instead of being the Big Tough Frogman like he would have if he was still an active member of the SEAL team and hadn’t retied, he begged out of the next run. He had nothing to prove since retiring from the Navy and exasperating the injury wasn’t worth coming second place to the tiny raccoon shifter who loved to taunt Boone and the men who followed him to Broken Peak. He still wasn’t used to the terminology, but the idea of shifters no longer made him want to call for the men in white coats to come and take him away. It helped that the General hadn’t seemed at all fazed by the revelation when Vixen sat Boone and his team down to explain things.

So, he headed into town instead of watching Maggie trounce his men yet again. There was only so much humiliation he and his men could handle. Yeah, the small cabins they lived in were nice, and he could have spent time in the Lodge with the members of Vixen’s pack, but sometimes Boone needed to return to the human world. His wrenched shoulder was a perfect excuse for an escape.

War had a few options, like the coffee shop or diner, but he opted for the Dirty Whistle. As bars went, it was cleaner than most and as long as it wasn’t payday or a weekend night, relatively quiet.

Bella and her uncle stood at the end of the bar deep in discussion. When the bell above the door rang, she turned her head toward the door. From her glare, she wasn’t thrilled to see Boone walking in and sitting down at a stool. Thirty seconds after Boone sat down, a glass of amber liquid appeared in front of him. She didn’t have to ask what he wanted. He always ordered the same scotch.

Gareth, Bella’s uncle, sat down next to Boone fifteen minutes later. Vixen doesn’t have you training?

I’m taking a break. Boone lifted the glass. There’s only so much of getting my ass kicked by Maggie before I need to ghost out.

Yeah, she’s a whirlwind. For what it’s worth, she kicks everyone’s ass, which is why no one enjoys training with her. Gareth smirked and slapped Boone’s bad shoulder.

He tried to hide the wince, but wasn’t certain he was successful. The shifters had a sixth sense for reading body language. Even though the Navy had spent years training Boone how to hide things, the shifters usually saw right through the facades. If Gareth noticed the wince, he said nothing.

I think Vixen’s trying to keep us from getting too bored. Trouble has a way of finding us when we’re not in country.

Be glad for the respite. For a while there we couldn’t go a week without someone entering the territory who didn’t belong. Gareth slapped his hand down on the bar a few times before heading out the front door.

Bella stood in front of Boone. Hurt?

He kept his gaze on his glass of scotch. No, just used a wrenched shoulder as an excuse.

Bella narrowed her eyes at him. Doesn’t a wrenched shoulder mean you’re hurt, Boone?

She wasn’t wrong.

Did he hear the hint of laughter in her voice? Boone glanced up with a grin. Word is your secret admirer isn’t taking your hints.

Yeah, he’s not the sharpest crayon. In fact, a broken crayon might be sharper than he is.

Bella could charm the paint off a wall. No one stood a chance when she used her charm. Her blue eyes got bluer and her lips teased at a smile, like she had a joke she was dying to tell. So fucking cute that his cock twitched in his pants.

He probably doesn’t have anything else going on in his life. Too bad there isn’t a gym in War he could hang out at. Without a gym, his deficiencies are more apparent. Boone had clocked the large male standing seventy-five feet away from the bar when he came in.

Gareth had complained to Vixen about it, but she hadn’t been ready to start a war with Bella’s former clan just yet. Boone wasn’t sure that was the best choice. In his experience obsessed males, regardless if they were shifters or not, quickly turned into dangerous males.

He has like one asset, well two, looks and muscle. And when he can’t rely on those, it’s obvious that he was born without a brain.

Boone pushed his scotch to the side. His conversation with Bella was more interesting than whatever thoughts he would have had sitting alone. Is that a requirement? Having a brain? Is that why you’re ignoring him?

Bella laughed softly, more of a breathy exhale than an actual laugh, but the sound caused his cock to twitch again. She had a sweater on over her shirt, a cardigan that she hadn’t bothered buttoning up. It hinted at the swell of her breasts and for a moment Boone wished she wasn’t wearing the sweater.

A brain is a requirement, yes, but that’s not why I’m ignoring him.

I broke up with someone by letting them catch me having sex with someone else.

Bella stopped fidgeting with the bar rag and delivered an awe-stricken stare at Boone. There wasn’t a better way?

It wasn’t my finest hour. He didn’t make excuses for it. She was pretty pissed. In fairness, she wasn’t a girlfriend, just a hookup. It wasn’t a breakup as much as I wanted her to leave me the fuck alone.

If she was anything like the women in War, she told everyone who would listen about it. Then she made an excuse and told everyone you slept with her to get back at someone else.

Close. She claimed the only reason I slept with her was, so I could tell everyone I slept with all the journalists embedded with us. Which wasn’t true, I never slept with two of the reporters.

I’m not sure that’s an achievement, Boone. Let me guess, the other two reporters were men?

Boone shook his head.

Ah, the type of women whose vibrators would run away from them if they had legs. She called out his shallowness with a laugh.

He never would have guessed Bella was funny. Her comment might have been mean, but it didn’t make it less humorous.

I just meant that once she saw me fucking someone else, she got the message. Maybe your stalker needs a message he can’t ignore.

Are you asking me to sleep with you?

Boone shrugged his good shoulder. Why not? I could bend you over the bar, show the gym-rat it’s time to move on.

He half-expected a slap, but Bella surprised him with another breathy laugh. God, he could get used to hearing that sound all the time.

I am sure Gareth would love that plan, but do you think your shoulder is up to it?

Bella, if you believe a shoulder is important for a good fuck, you’ve been doing it wrong.

She laughed again as a pink flush warmed her cheeks. This time, his cock stood at full attention.

I fear I don’t have a fraction of the experience of your past conquests. I’d be a disappointment.

Boone slid closer to the bar, hiding his hard-on before she caught on that he might have only been half joking about fucking her on the bar. You being a disappointment is impossible, Bella.

She didn’t have a response and instead grabbed the cutting board with lemons and began slicing the fruit for garnishes. She was smiling. Boone lifted his glass of scotch and drank.

The silence that followed their exchange was comfortable. They might not have been talking, but they shared the space at the bar together, pretending they had been joking.

Boone finished his scotch and debated about getting a second. Normally he only had one, but he didn’t want to leave the Dirty Whistle just yet. It was either order a drink or get Bella talking again.

So, I shared a bit of my past with you. What are you going to give me in return? Is there someone you’d rather have hanging around than your admirer who won’t come within fifty feet of this place?

Her head snapped up and Boone worried she’d slice her finger with the knife in her hand. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. For a moment he imagined what they’d look like in a post-sex haze. He leaned closer until his chest rested against the bar.

Bella dropped the knife and smoothed her hands over the bar rag. No. Not really. No.

Not really isn’t a no. Which is it? Or are you more of a one-night-stand kind of girl, someone who pounces and bounces? Boone wasn’t sure why he continued talking about sex. Perhaps it was the blush on her cheeks. It might also have been that he was thinking with his ever-hardening cock.

She looked down at the lemon and picked the knife back up, returning to her task. Only the smile she had was gone. In its place was the professional half smile she used with customers.

Boone wanted the cause of her change to be because she’d rather have him as her admirer and tried to hide it from him. He was fairly certain it was his use of the words pounce and bounce. He hadn’t expected her to be impressed by it, but a small laugh would have been nice.

Isn’t pouncing and bouncing what you do, Boone?

Everyone, his squadron, Vixen, even the members of her pack, called him Free or Freeman. Only one person used his given name. His mother. Bella didn’t say his name the same way as his mom, though. She added a little breath that kicked his cock into high gear and made him want to bend her over the bar.

How the fuck had that thought entered his brain?

If his cock got any harder, it risked lifting the top up off the bar. He needed to rein his fantasies back under control, because his imagination was going places it didn’t need to be visiting. Leaving the bar with a hard-on at full mast wasn’t at the top of the list of new things he wanted to experience.

Bella, I wouldn’t bounce from you. Boone hoped the cheesy line would bring back the sweet smile he wanted to see again.

But you’d first have to get the chance to pounce, Boone, and that won’t happen. Besides, I’m not the one who’s supposed to do the pouncing. She didn’t look up from slicing the lemon, but that sweet smile was there.

Boone took it as a sign.

A good sign.

Two

Boone got back to Broken Peak and skirted the edge of the obstacle course on his way to the cluster of small cabins he and his squadron now called home. He had pulled rank and claimed the one bedroom cabin, but only because he didn’t want to put up with the symphony of snoring he endured whenever they went in country.

The General sat on the one chair on the front porch, waiting for him.

Great.

General Jessup had been part of JSOC and the reason for Boone meeting Vixen. He hadn’t heard anything from the old man since the General’s retirement until the General showed up at Boone’s front door and told him an old friend was finally calling in a favor.

That favor led him to Broken Peak and learning about shifters.

She has a Black Hawk tucked away in the garage.

You’re telling me this, why?

The General shrugged. Just thought it was interesting and maybe you’d like to know.

She doesn’t fly it, does she?

Well, she doesn’t have a license to fly it, no, but that’s never stopped her.

Boone crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at his visitor. The old man stopped by for a reason and it wasn’t to tell Boone about the Black Hawk. He had to admit though; it was kind of cool that Vixen procured one. Cut the shit, General. Why are you here?

Someone mentioned that you talked with Bella today.

Holy shit, the gossip in this place was crazy. Did they have a fucking phone tree or something to pass news on?

Gareth said he left you at the Dirty Whistle. Figured you’d be back after your usual one drink. Took you longer to come back than expected, so I put two and two and two together and came up with six. Was I right?

She was working in the bar when I stopped in.

The General tilted his head to the side, studying Boone. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Free.

We talked. That’s it.

Yeah, but you never just talk, Free. You left a wake of one-night stands behind you. Didn’t matter if you were in country or home. Last I heard, you didn’t make it a habit to talk to a woman without having an endgame in mind.

Everything the General said was true. Boone didn’t do friendships with women. His only friends were the guys in his squadron. And Vixen. But Vixen didn’t count as a woman. Not when she held her own alone against the same dangers his entire team faced.

What’s your point?

In my experience, when shifters fall, they fall hard. Maybe you should avoid spending any more time at the Dirty Whistle when Bella’s on shift.

Boone sat down on the top step since the General had made no move to stand and Boone wasn’t ready to invite him inside.

We just talked, General, I promise. What he didn’t add was what they talked about. Well, what Boone might have talked about. What are the plans for her stalker?

Gareth is pretending she’s not here.

They realize he can see her, right? It’s only a matter of time before he follows her back here.

Vixen doesn’t want problems with the Steyr Clan if she can avoid them.

One of hers doesn’t have a stalker. You and I both know if that guy had so much as looked sideways at one of the females...

The General held up his hand, stalling whatever else Boone planned on saying. Which was a whole lot. Not that he cared about Bella and her stalker. Nope. He didn’t care one bit. It was a general safety concern for everyone, if the guy snapped. Well, not if. Stalkers were never an if. They were always a when.

"The difference is Gareth’s nieces are more than capable of handling Vince if he gets too close. The same can’t be said for Eleanor or Danielle. With Cassandra being pregnant, well everyone’s in a wait and see mode."

Bella shouldn’t have to handle that asshole.

The General raised a bushy eyebrow at Boone. They fall hard, Free. Real hard. To where they’re obsessed. You won’t be able to ghost her. Even if you moved away, she’d follow.

Friends, General. I’m not sure we’re even that. The first time we had a conversation with over two words between the both of us was today.

Boone stood and walked to the door of his cabin. As far as he was concerned, his little talk with the General was over.

Do us all a favor and get your dick wet with someone who doesn’t have any ties to Broken Peak. The General pushed to his feet and walked away before Boone could answer.

It took all of five minutes for Boone to head back into town. He drove through the part of town that was being rebuilt, one business at a time, and went straight for one of the dive bars. It was almost five and the barflies would congregate where the bartenders didn’t toss them dirty looks for flashing their cleavage or showing their ass in too short skirts.

He pulled his truck into the back of an alley between a vacant building and a rundown bar and didn’t stop to think twice before getting out and walking into the bar. He sure as hell wasn’t thinking when he scanned the bar until he found what he wanted.

An attractive woman wearing the tightest and lowest cut shirt ever created.

So there he was. Standing in a bar as though everything was the same as it had been yesterday. The whole situation was a fucking mess, and not something he wanted to think about. Especially not after finally having a conversation with Bella.

Why the fuck was he thinking about Bella when the whole point of this exercise was to do what the General suggested and get his dick wet?

The bottle blond caught his gaze, and he jutted out his chin with a tilt of his head. She didn’t hesitate before putting down her drink and crossing the bar to the door and Boone.

I’m Lac–

Boone cut her off before she got the rest of her name out. He didn’t want to know her name or anything else about her.

Come on. He sighed and led her outside to his truck.

Her hips moved side to side in an exaggerated sway she probably thought was sexy. Anyone else might have found it alluring, but not Boone.

He opened his truck door and slid in, letting her figure out how to climb in on her own. She managed, and didn’t seem at all upset by his lack of manners.

At first, he thought he’d just fuck her in the truck, but that seemed like a worse idea than even picking her up in the bar to begin with. Then he considered going to a cheap hotel. That was just as bad.

The image of Bella riding him flashed in front of his eyes.

Fuck. Boone needed to end this before it even started. He needed her out of his truck, and he had to go home. Then he needed to take a long, hot shower and wash off the skank. His truck might also need detailing, too.

You know what, forget this. Get out. He wanted to reach over her and open the car door, but that would mean touching her.

But… The woman probably never had a man say no to her before.

Or get out.

Get out.

She reached for him, palming his cock. This is saying yes.

Yeah, his cock was hard, but not because of her. Get. Out.

I can make you feel good.

For fuck’s sake. She was no better than a paid whore. Except paid whores took the hint and got the fuck out of dodge when their John told them to. Risking contact, Boone reached around her and opened the door with a firm shove. Out.

She finally took the hint and jumped out. Though, she didn’t go quietly. She threw every swear word at him and slammed the door while tottering back to the bar in her too high heels, too tight shirt, and too short skirt.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Boone was no better than Bella thought he was, picking up some anonymous fuck at a bar.

Classy, Boone. Real fucking Classy.

He drove back to Broken Peak as fast as possible without getting pulled over. Not that police were a problem. As far as Boone could tell, they were in the pocket of someone who was a friend of Vixen. The trek to his cabin took more time, mostly because he was doing his best to avoid everyone who might ask where he had been. Also, he needed to take a shower more than anything else.

He used up all the hot water in the tank and a bar and a half of soap before he finally felt clean. Not clean enough, though. Not bothering with drying off or getting dressed, he slid into bed. The pillow met his head, and sleep came fast.

His phone announced a text message, and Boone sat straight up in bed. Years of getting called to missions by phone had conditioned his body and mind to move from sleep to alert in seconds. He palmed the phone and looked at the screen.

A message from a number he didn’t recognize.

I hope your shoulder is healing. Further studies have shown shoulders to be important for satisfying carnal activity.

Boone didn’t need to read the next part of the message.

BTW, this is Bella.

He smiled. She texted him. When he left the Dirty Whistle, he wasn’t sure what would happen, but Bella texting him was the last thing he considered possible. It was a nice surprise.

A second message popped up on the screen. This one from the General. Did you get your dick wet