Falling for Tripp [Milson Valley 7] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) Read online

  Milson Valley 7

  Falling for Tripp

  After a reasonably bad first meeting where his mate literally shudders in dislike, Tripp Croggen actually finds himself liking the slightly bad-tempered human fate chose as his. While Eddie Nelson might have a few issues regarding paranormals, he agrees to give Tripp time to show him that creatures are not so different from humans when it comes to the fundamentals in life, that they both just want love, respect, and happiness.

  The more he learns about Eddie, the more Tripp sees beneath the slight bitterness to who the human really is: smart, passionate, and caring. Eddie has a dry sense of humor and goals he works toward, and he keeps Tripp fascinated. In fact, Tripp couldn’t ask for more in a mate.

  Now, he just has to convince Eddie that they are perfect for each other…before the person they didn’t even know was after them attacks.

  Genre: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Contemporary, Paranormal, Romantic Suspense, Shape-shifter

  Length: 40,329 words

  FALLING FOR TRIPP

  Milson Valley 7

  Jo Penn

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  FALLING FOR TRIPP

  Copyright © 2017 by Jo Penn

  ISBN: 978-1-64010-283-5

  First Publication: April 2017

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  DEDICATION

  For all of us who have had our hearts broken, our confidence shaken, and find the strength to love again. And for those who know, deep down, they can never trust enough to love again.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  I love writing and can be found most days in front of my computer. I live in a wonderful part of the world where clean, sandy beaches are close, the sun shines, and people love to get out and about.

  I spent years living, working, and traveling in London, UK, which provided so much inspiration through history, culture, and life in general. I love to travel and have lots of plans to do so again in the future. In the meantime, I bring my worlds to life.

  The world of the paranormal mixed with love and action—how the men react and live, defend and care—captures my attention and has me wanting to fill pages with their adventures.

  For all titles by Jo Penn, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/jo-penn

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Landmarks

  Cover

  FALLING FOR TRIPP

  Milson Valley 7

  JO PENN

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Studying the floor of the vacant shop, Tripp Croggen noted the footprints in the dust, the glass from a broken window, and a small line on the ground near the fireplace. There wasn’t much left in the shop, just empty shelves, an old table that would come up a treat with a good sanding and staining, and a few floor rugs. Whoever had been here was looking for something specific. Tripp took out his digital camera and got to work.

  Documenting evidence of the break-in and securing the shop along with one of his officers, Jack Peterson, took over an hour. Tripp had enrolled in an advanced criminology course last year and was now well versed in the modern methods of crime scene analysis. He also attended training at the FBI facility, though they said with his gift, the training wasn’t a necessity. Tripp was thorough and liked to understand more than the fundamental elements of analyzing crime scenes and perpetrators. Since then, he enrolled one of his officers and a junior detective into the same course, both doing well. Jack, who currently worked this scene with Tripp, was the officer. Darcy Beals was the junior detective, and had just returned from training at Quantico a few days ago. Jack would have his turn in five weeks. Hopefully, other members of the Milson City police department would request, or accept, enrollment into the program over the coming years, as Tripp was finding out that criminals were discovering more ways around the law. To combat that, Tripp and the police board came up with a number of directives and training policies. Fortunately, most of the cops were happy to learn more and take part.

  Tripp wasn’t one to sit back and wait for others to take care of what he could do himself. He was responsible and took his duties very seriously. Outside of work, Tripp was up for pretty much anything, and loved a good beer, a laugh, and landscaping. At work, he was approachable, careful and meticulous.

  “That it, Boss?” Jack asked after hammering in the last nail to the board they placed over the broken window.

  Jack was one of those officers who was always willing to jump in, and often had to be reminded to slow down, take his time and look first. Always ready with a smile and could be a clown, Tripp had also seen the man break down over cases. Being a cop was rewarding and, as a lot of cops said, a calling. It was also a strain for the people who put on the badge every day.

  “Looks like. Make sure you contact the shop owner. She’ll need to repair and clean up before the new tenant moves in next week.”

  There generally weren’t these types of crimes in Milson City. It was a great place to live, voted in the top five safest small to medium cities in North America. With ample opportunities for employment, and living expenses not over the top, Milson City was gradually growing bigger. As a result, there were a couple of incidents of vandalism the last few months. There was a pattern, a very evident one, and most of the cops agreed in the staff meeting the other day that the vandalism was being done by kids. Every place targeted was vacant or derelict, like this old bookshop that was due for an overhaul next week when the new tenant took over, and turned it into an internet café.

  Tripp shook his head. Books were not as well enjoyed in their paper form anymore. The way of the world he guessed, technology moving everything ahead. He didn’t have a problem with it. He was a big internet surfer and liked his e-Reader, and the ease of downloading. He loved the sports channels even more. With a click of his finger, he was getting the latest college game from Canada or a soccer match in Ireland.

  “Will do, Boss.” Jack gave a small, cheerful salute and packed up the tools.

  A few years ago, Jack was one of those kids with a bit of fun vandalism on his mind, breaking into vacant apartments and shops to steal anything of worth. Fortunately, here
in Milson Valley, there were enough good leaders and members of the pack, pride, and covens, that pups like Jack didn’t end up locked up instead of sent to training where he learned to use his skills in another way.

  Locking up the shop and helping Jack load the police car, Tripp told the officer to return to the station.

  “Sure, Boss. What are you going to do?”

  “I need a coffee, a real one,” Tripp grumbled.

  Laughing, Jack got into the patrol car. “You bears! There’s nothing wrong with the coffee at the station.”

  Growling over the comment, Tripp ambled off down the pavement toward the café two blocks over that was owned by Terry Noble, a djinn and one of the best baristas around. While everyone liked to stir and tease Tripp, his two brothers Tredd and Trekk, and the other bears here in the valley about their sensitive stomachs, his kind knew they just had far more sophisticated, and healthy, palates.

  And the coffee at the station was little more than smelly swill.

  Terry was a long, lean, sexy barista. He always had a smile, a sexy wink, and could charm pretty much anyone. Though Tripp wouldn’t mind spending some time with Terry, he liked his coffee even more and didn’t want to stuff up and lose where he could get his usual java fix. After a bit of flirting and gossip exchanged, Tripp had his coffee and a box of apple cinnamon cookies to share at the station. Giving a wave, he left Café Noble.

  Walking along the sidewalk, he headed toward the station, nodding and greeting those he knew along the way. As the second for the Starters wolf pack here in the valley, Tripp made it a point to get to know every paranormal in the area, even if it were only to make a note of their bio and memorize a photograph. Who he didn’t know were some of the humans, unless they were associated with the pack, pride, coven, or an individual creature.

  Pausing on a corner, Tripp sipped his excellent coffee, a doppio with a dash of caramel added. Tripp had a bit of a sweet tooth. Yeah, that is why he didn’t do more than flirt with Terry, the coffee was just too damn good to jeopardize.

  Glancing across the street, he saw a person that for some reason always caught his attention. He’d never spoken to the human, didn’t even know the man’s name, yet Tripp always kept an eye out and anticipated a chance encounter. Even catching sight of the human seemed to make Tripp’s pulse jump, and he had difficulty not openly staring.

  As usual, the person didn’t notice Tripp though. The man had earbuds in, sunglasses on, and wasn’t paying attention to anything, or anyone, except what was directly in front of him. Tripp leaned against a lamppost. He sipped his coffee and watched curiously. After five months of seeing the human around and having such a peculiar reaction, Tripp was beginning to wonder why. Why did he have this reaction? What was it about the human? Sure, he was nice enough looking, pretty damn hot in fact, but from Tripp’s observations, was a bit standoffish. Not that there was anything wrong with that, each to their own after all, but Tripp was baffled.

  And intrigued. It had Tripp considering. Either he had an instinct in a negative way about the human, or his instinct was to do with something else completely. And what he was feeling didn’t have him sensing negative, so that left…possibly a mate?

  The man crossed the road and walked along the pavement opposite Tripp. This time he followed, wanting to know more. After a few blocks, the man removed the earbuds and turned into an office building. This was the business district, the buildings tall and modern. Tripp preferred rustic, and art deco, but modern had its place. Going to the crossing farther along the street, he just managed to catch the walk sign when a truck clipped a motorbike. Fortunately, no one was hurt, but traffic was stopped for forty minutes while statements were taken, tickets were written, and the motorcycle was taken away for repairs, as its back wheel was bent, rendering it useless. By then, the man that caused Tripp’s pulse to spike was long gone, along with any scent that may have lingered for a brief time after him.

  Disgruntled, Tripp went into the office building he’d seen the human enter and studied the directory board, then had a chat with the receptionist and security guard. Neither was overly helpful. Most of the tenants were businesses such as lawyers, accountants, insurance companies, and a retirement fund corporation. The idea of working for any of those had Tripp curling his top lip and shuddering. He did recognize one name on the directory board and took a ride up to the seventh floor, where he was greeted by a receptionist he knew very well.

  The trendy creature humphed when seeing Tripp and went back to flicking through a magazine.

  “Now, now, Dalton, don’t be like that. How was I to know you were using the log?”

  Dalton Newton, a hedgehog shifter, hissed. “And you bears are meant to have an extraordinary sense of smell. Riiiight.”

  Grinning, Tripp couldn’t help himself. “Next time put your name on the log. Is River in?”

  Dalton shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  Prickly shit. Tripp took a deep breath. As part of the local wolf pack—yeah, a hedgehog in a wolf pack, along with a dozen bears, a little squirrel everyone tried to avoid and a few other different shifters—did seem a bit out there, but it worked well for the Starters pack.

  “Then look up River’s schedule on the computer in front of you, cub.”

  “I’m not a cub! I’m a hedgehog, we’re termed—”

  “Ah, River, good, you’re here.” Tripp winked at Dalton. How he loved stirring the easily riled creature. He looked forward to the day Dalton was snapped up by a mate, because only a mate would be able to settle that little brat down and get past the bristles. Sorry, spines, as Dalton told Tripp with annoyance often.

  River Aston, attorney at law, was a tall, slender falcon shifter. Hot, smart and fun, pretty much everyone that knew River either wanted to jump him or be his best bud.

  “Hello, Tripp, what brings you by?” River led the way through the maze of offices to a large corner one and waved Tripp inside. He pulled up an armchair and sat. “No problems with the pack I hope.”

  “Nope. This is…” Tripp shrugged. He wasn’t one to be embarrassed or recalcitrant. “I saw a human come into this building about fifty minutes ago. Something about him is trigging responses, so I wanted to see if I could get a bit closer and catch his scent. Unfortunately, a dickhead truck driver caused an accident I had to deal with, and now the human’s scent is long gone. You don’t have a guy with chestnut-colored hair, approximately five-eleven, medium build working here, do you?”

  Tripp knew the human’s hair was termed chestnut, as he’d looked up the color. At first, he thought it was auburn, but that didn’t seem right, so then he considered it was a shade of red, but Trekk, his brother, just rolled his eyes when Tripp was trying to explain and got out his iPad. After that Tripp had too much information about hair color.

  River smiled slowly, shaking his head. “No, my friend, sorry. There is a female with coppery colored hair.”

  “Right, nope, a male. Okay, I guess I can come back another time.”

  “Hmm, I would suggest either five o’clock when all the businesses begin closing up for the day, or around eight in the morning when people are coming into work. If you hang about down in the lobby, you may spot this human who has caught your attention.” River’s golden eyes gleamed. “Do you think he is your mate?”

  Tripp shrugged. “I like to err on the side of caution. I’m having a response, one that is growing more urgent every time I see him.”

  “How long have you seen him about?”

  “Five months.”

  River blinked in surprise. “Really? But why haven’t you approached before now?”

  “Well, as I said, I was having a reaction when I saw him, but it wasn’t definite one way or another. You see, with bears we have instincts like most paranormals, but ours are more finely tuned. Yeah, we need to scent our mate to know them, but we can also identify by reacting to the sight or sound of them. In my case, I’m having a reaction, but it hasn’t been until the last few times that I could cl
assify it as mate related.”

  “Oh.” River nodded, frowning. “What was the reaction before?”

  “Aware. Always aware of exactly where he is, what the human is doing. He has my full attention. And that could mean positive or negative with a bear. As he was human, I dismissed the reaction a little, didn’t think he was up to anything, clean cut seemed to be working, not causing any trouble and keeping to himself. I paid attention when I saw him and didn’t notice any changes. Then I was closer a few months ago to him, and my palms started sweating.” Tripp thought a moment. “And you know, I was going to follow then also, but got called into the station for a problem and lost sight of the human.”

  “That’s interesting. Why don’t I perform a little discreet investigating for you?”

  “Sure, as long as it is discreet.” Tripp took his vibrating phone out of his pocket. “Sorry, I need to answer this. Thanks for the offer.”

  “Not a problem. See you on the track tonight.”

  Tripp grinned and left River. He answered his phone and talked to the desk sergeant at the Milson City central police department on his way out of the law firm Aston and Williams.

  * * * *

  “Hey, I’m just saying, it’d be a good thing to do.”

  “Why?” a voice, gravelly and rich, grunted.

  “Why?” The first voice sounded astonished. “What do you mean ‘why’? Helping someone find their mate is a good deed! Brother, you have been spending too much time with Layke again.”

  The owner of the gravelly voice grunted something. “Fine, what am I looking for?”