Octo BEAR fest (Renaissance Shifters #1)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

B y the time Gwen finished her ginger ale, a surprising number of people had chimed in on her social media fronts to proclaim their intention of showing up at the brewpub by 8pm the next evening. "Look at this," she said in delight, and got up to sit next to Bill so he could read her phone screen with her. He scooted over in the booth, leaving most of a warm spot for her to sit in. His scent was absolutely delicious, kind of outdoors musky mixed with a malty smell that she figured must be from the beer-making. It was distracting, and even though she had her phone right there , for a moment she couldn't remember what she'd wanted to show him.

"All those people are coming?" Bill asked in surprise.

That cleared Gwen's head—kind of—and she nodded enthusiastically. "I figured we'd get some from Denver and Colorado Springs and everything, but I wasn't counting on anybody from out of state. But there are people coming from California! Chicago! Look at GemJones9921! She's driving from Seattle! Obviously she won't be here until the Saturday night gig."

"Obviously," Bill echoed, sounding bemused. "You're kind of famous, aren't you? Mike mentioned it, but I didn't realize quite who I'd booked."

"Mmph." Gwen rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. "I'm not can't-walk-down-the-street famous, but I have fans, yeah. I told you they'd rally."

"I know, but I didn't think it was a 'drive from Seattle' kind of rallying. That's pretty cool, Gwen. Can I ask you something?"

"As long as it's not something like 'what kind of diet are you on that you stay in such good shape' or 'how are you going to manage being a rock star and having children', yeah."

Bill blinked, clearly taken aback. "Do people ask you things like that?"

"You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I've been asked."

"Hnh." The single sound seemed offended on her behalf. "Well, if you ever need somebody swatted for that kind of question, I volunteer."

Gwen laughed and balled up her fist. "Thanks. I've got a mean right hook, but playing guitar with a broken hand is hard."

"I'm at your service," the big man promised. "Anyway, I wanted to ask what happened with your fir—oh, God, they brought the cousins." A commotion at the door interrupted him, and Gwen, who couldn't see over the tops of the booths like he could, leaned sideways to find out what was going on.

A whole passel of people were trying to get through the door together. Gwen didn't normally think in terms of 'passels,' but in this particular case, they really struck her as a passel. There were eight or nine of them, two of whom she recognized from Bill's family photo: his parents were in the midst of the passel. Both of them were taller than she expected, although his dad wasn't as tall as any of the brothers she'd met so far. His mom was almost dwarfed by the people around her, although she had to be at least five ten herself. It was just that everybody else was enormous. There were two women, both easily over six feet, and the rest were men, all of them taller than Bill's father, who matched one of the women in height.

Gwen clapped a hand over her mouth and completely failed to muffle a laugh. Bill groaned and put his head on the table momentarily. "I know. We all look alike."

"You really do, " Gwen squeaked through her fingers. The passel all bore a strong family resemblance to Bill himself, although they had more variation in hair color than the Torben brothers did. Every single one of them was attractive, in a cookie-cutter way. "Is there an actual assembly line?"

"My aunts and mother would tell you no," Bill said, still with his head on the table. "But you should have seen the whole gang at Steve's wedding this summer. At least my cousin who met his faa—uh, his girlfriend there had the decency to fall for a tiny blonde. The men in my family tend to go for statuesque amazons, leading to giant children."

A startling sense of crushing disappointment took Gwen's breath away for a moment. She wasn't short by any means. In fact, she was often surprised at how tiny other women were. But she also didn't come anywhere near statuesque.

It amazed her how much she wanted to be amazonian enough to catch Bill Torben's attention.

"Tell you what." Bill had lifted his head, although he'd also slid down into the booth as far as he could go, like he was trying not to be noticed. "In about ten seconds here, my idiot brother is going to tell that group of lunatics that I'm over here, but you have time to escape. You wanted to meet my parents , not my entire clan. What are they all doing here!" It wasn't a question, just an exclamation of despair, and Gwen, despite her promise to keep her hands off him, patted his arm reassuringly.

"They're probably here to rescue the weekend." The noise level in the pub had gone up about ten decibels with his family's arrival, and they seem to have quadrupled the number of people in the pub, just through their sheer size. "If I sneak out, are you going to be able to escape and get to the Harlequin?"

Bill, in the grim tone of a man who knew better, said, "Probably."

Gwen made an executive decision and grabbed his hand. "Get my guitar. Let's make a break for it."

"What? No, they'll see me?—"

"There is definitely a door over there that leads out to the beer garden," Gwen said firmly. "We'll take it."

"They'll still see me! I'm six and a half feet tall!"

Gwen dipped a hand into her pocket and came out with a pair of earbuds. "Put these in. They're noise-canceling. You didn't hear them, that's all."

"They're tiny ." Bill fumbled them into his ears, although they practically swam in his ear canals, because Gwen did, in fact, have fairly small ears, and used the smallest silicon tips that came with the buds. She was pretty sure Bill would have to buy XXL ones separately for his own purposes, then took a moment to wonder what other things he might have to buy in XXL.

That was not important right now.

"As long as the buds don't fall out between here and the beer garden door, that's enough excuse to not hear them," she promised, then, her hand still wrapped firmly around Bill's, pulled the big man out of the booth and strode purposefully toward the back door. He grabbed her guitar case and followed, and to her relief, delight and amusement, nobody yelled Bill! until the door was almost closed behind them. She said, "Close enough!" and broke into a run. Bill yelped, trying to keep up while not letting the ear buds fall out, and clocked himself in the head with the guitar case. Gwen blurted, "Oh, God, sorry," and took the guitar so he could clap his hands over his ears and hurry along behind her.

"They're going to kill me," he announced a little too loudly.

Gwen flashed a grin over her shoulder at him. "First, not if they can't catch you, and second, nah, you're bigger than all of them, and I bet I'm meaner. She-bear, rawr." She made claws with her hands, swiping, and although she laughed, she swore that Bill Torben actually did heart eyes at her. It was about the cutest thing she'd ever seen, even if 'cute' and 'giant man' didn't usually go together in her expectations. "Come on, into my getaway car." She opened the Chevy's back door and tucked the guitar in with more care than she took slinging herself into the front seat a moment later, and Bill climbed in, suddenly looking particularly enormous in the comparatively small space. "Sorry I can't slide the seat back. My feet won't reach the pedals if I do. That's the problem with bench seats."

"There are worse fates." Bill stretched his legs out as best he could as she pulled out of the parking lot. "I can always ride with the guitar in the back if I have to."

"Ah, yes," Gwen said in her best British accent. "I'm Lord William Torben and I wish to not be disturbed as I'm ferried home, James."

Bill laughed. "Yeah, but if I was upper-class British and my last name was pronounced 'Torben' it would probably look like it was pronounced 'Troughburn' or something."

"Troughstiltenburn," Gwen suggested. "The 'stilten' is silent."

He laughed again. "Yeah. Like that. Or maybe with a 'shire' in there somewhere. Do you actually know where you're going?"

"Yes." After a beat, Gwen added, "I do not, however, know how to get there, so if you could navigate…?"

"Hah! Yeah, turn left up there."

It was a shorter drive to the Harlequin than Gwen expected, probably because they'd gone there via the ice cream and coffee cafe earlier, and she hadn't been paying much attention on the way back. They arrived much earlier than they needed to, and Mike Piccolo met them almost before they came in the door. "Saw you pulling up on the security cameras. You have quite a few fans here already, Gwen. You want me to take you around to the stage entrance?"

"Nah, I can't help set up if I'm hiding backstage. Besides, I've got a giant personal bodyguard if anything gets hairy, which I don't think it will." She knocked her shoulder against Bill's arm. "If that's okay with you?"

"I'll guard your body any time," he promised.

Gwen laughed, and Piccolo looked between them with amusement. "If you say so. Want me to take your guitar backstage, at least?"

"That, yes, please, seems like a good idea. I'm not fragile, but expensive musical instruments can be." As she handed her guitar over, Gwen heard somebody say, "Oh my God, it really is her," and then suddenly half a dozen people were ringing her, their expressions full of nervous delight.

She raised her hands and said, "Nope!" firmly, then pointed over their heads at a table near the stage. "You can go there. I'll come to you, but I'm not going to be a fire hazard and block the front doors, all right?"

A shy titter rushed through the little group and at least two of them mumbled apologies as they all scurried toward the table she'd pointed at. Gwen took a breath, squaring her shoulders, and glanced up to see Bill gazing down at her with awe in his dark eyes. "You don't need a bodyguard, do you?"

"Welllllll…." Gwen laughed and shook her head. "Not with half a dozen kids barely old enough to be in the club, no. Not with most fans, really. They're usually eager but well-meaning. It's when they get too freaked out to remember I'm a person too, that it gets to be a problem. But I tell you what, having six and a half feet of backup does not hurt when you tell people to go over there and wait for you. C'mon, they're settled down now, so we can go over." She did, joining her fans at a table and swinging a chair around to sit on it backward, and beamed at their excited faces. "Thank you for being here. This is a totally off-the-cuff thing before the gigs at the Thunder Bear Brewpub this weekend and I wasn't sure if anybody was going to show up!"

A wall of protestations met her self-deprecation, and for the next half hour or so she chatted, signed things, took selfies, and was very aware of Bill Torben's big, reassuring presence at her back as more people came in, realized she was there, and came to have a moment with her themselves. Eventually she clapped her hands together and rose, smiling at everybody. "Look, I promised I'd help set up so the house band didn't think I was a total bitch, so I'm gonna go get started with that. It was amazing to meet all of you!"

Voices chorused excited goodbyes, and Gwen felt the warmth of Bill's hand at the small of her back as he ushered her away, murmuring, "You're really good at that."

"I've been doing it half my life," she replied. "It's not hard, but it's nice to have somebody at my back. You make me feel really safe."

By then they were at the stage, and Bill took a moment to look down at her before she left him. "It's all I want," he said. "I want you to be safe and happy."

Gwen's heart fluttered and she ducked her head, blushing, before she looked back up at him with a smile. "Well, you've got the pub to think of, too, so maybe it's not all you want, but thanks, big man. That makes me feel good." She vaulted up on stage before she risked something silly like kissing him, and dared a look over her shoulder as she strode toward the wings.

Bill Torben was watching her like she really was all he wanted in the world. Gwen's heart fluttered again, and instead of scolding herself, she decided to use that feeling as she went to play the role of rock star.