Matched To His Bear
The Dates of Our Lives #2
Lorelei M. Hart
Colbie Dunbar
Surrendered Press
Contents
Prologue
1. Gabe
2. Brad
3. Gabe
4. Brad
5. Gabe
6. Brad
7. Gabe
8. Brad
9. Gabe
10. Brad
11. Gabe
12. Brad
13. Gabe
14. Brad
15. Gabe
16. Brad
17. Gabe
18. Brad
19. Gabe
20. Brad
21. Gabe
22. Brad
23. Gabe
24. Brad
25. Gabe
26. Brad
27. Gabe
28. Brad
29. Gabe
30. Brad
Epilogue
Next in the series…
Newsletters
Surrendered Press
Matched To His Bear
Copyright © 2020 by Lorelei M. Hart & Colbie Dunbar
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Prologue
Brad
The last place I wanted to be was an airport. My bear hated to fly. I got it. It wasn’t like we were bird shifters and flying was part of our nature. Being in the air surrounded by iron and crammed close to other people while breathing in recycled air was shitty on a good day. After an emergency landing because some idiot destroyed not one, but two bathroom smoke detectors and needed to be escorted from the plane...it was exponentially worse.
I got off the plane, my briefcase the only thing with me, I wandered the terminal in the hopes of finding something not awful to eat.
I wasn’t optimistic. So far I’d seen three hot pretzel places, more boxed sandwiches than should exist, and a coffee place with a line that wove through their store and out into the walkway past not one, but two gates.
The map indicated there was a steak sub place nearby, and I crossed my fingers it was still open. Silly me had thought that airport restaurants stayed open twenty-four hours. And maybe they did in some airports. Not this one. I’d passed more closed than open places.
Victory was in my sight...finally. Only they were pulling the metal door down.
Crappy boxed sandwiches it would be. Probably fifty dollar ones at that. I stepped into the closest convenience-type kiosk and was halfway to the cooler when my bear piped up.
Mate
What was he talking about? I inhaled deeply. Mate. He was right. My mate was here. His scent was all cedar and...amber. What an alluring combination!
I took back everything I ever thought about the airport and the asshat who destroyed parts of my plane and rushed out, letting my nose shift just enough to get the full scent. Any human looking at me wouldn’t notice, but a shifter might. Oh well. I had a mate to find.
“Watch it.” An older woman slapped me with her purse. I didn’t even care. I had a mate to find and nothing would stand in my way.
“Sorry.” I mumbled my apology not even looking back at her. She could die mad about it.
I raced through the airport as fast as I could without attracting security. The terminal wasn’t jam packed with people, but there were enough that I found myself having to slow down a few times so as not to run them over.
I got to the end of the terminal which was more of a circle than anything else, holding five gates. I was so close. My mate was here in one of these waiting areas.
I walked past the first, his scent growing stronger with each step.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
I followed, finding myself backtracking and weaving through the next gate and ending at the door.
“Sir. I’m going to need you to stand back,” a voice behind me said forcefully, and it was all I could do to contain my bear.
“When did this plane leave?” I asked, his scent still so new. Maybe he hadn’t gotten on it. No. He had. The scent ended there.
“About two minutes ago, sir. The next flight to Atlanta isn’t for another six hours, but I’d be happy for you to rebook.”
I slowly turned around, using all my energy to keep my bear in check.
“I’m sorry. Did you say Atlanta? My flight is to Chicago. I must’ve read the gate number wrong.” Sometimes being a lawyer came in handy and today was one of those days. I had my in-court persona slapped on and would deal with the issue at hand once the employee was appeased.
I fucking hated airports.
“I can check for you.” He walked behind the counter and I let out a sigh. This was going to take longer than I thought. “May I see your ticket?”
I handed it to him knowing full well it was going to cause initial confusion since nowhere on it did it mention this airport.
“Atlanta is a hub, isn’t it?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.
“It is. But as I said, the next open flight is a lot longer than the route it looks like you are now taking. Let me print you tickets with the modifications on it.” He handed it to me. “You’ve had a rough day.”
He had no idea.
“Thanks,” was all I could say to that. It wasn’t like I could tell him what was truly upsetting me. Yeah, man. I had my true mate within my grasp and let him go because I was too busy looking for shit-ass food.”
I walked in the direction of my new gate, taking my time, my bear fighting me every step of the way. He wanted us to go find our mate. I did too. But a quick search on my phone told me by the time any flight I could catch would arrive, all the outgoing flights by that airline would be long gone.
Fuck it. I had to try.
I strolled back to the gate agent who had helped me.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
No. No it was not.
“I called my boss,” I lied. “He said that I was going to get in too late for the client I was meeting and asked if I could cover a deposition in Atlanta tomorrow instead. Any chance you could get me on a flight there in the next wee bit?”
“Sorry, no, but I can get you there before morning. Would that work?” He took my proffered ticket from me.
“That would be perfect.”
It was not perfect. I ended up sitting next to the woman I nearly ran over who took it as a sign she needed to lecture me the entire flight about manners, only to get to the airport to find his fading scent that led me to a gate where multiple flights had left, including one to Chicago.
He might’ve been headed to the same place I was and I’d never know, the next flights not leaving until morning.
My bear cried out in agony, and I held it in the best I could, my toes starting to shift before I had things under control, ripping a hole in my shoe. But I kept both shoes on and walked out into the rain on my way to rent a car and drive home, texting my Alpha along the way to let him know I was missing the damn convention. Driving the long distance home was better than having to deal with my bear on another flight.
I’d tell my Alpha in person how I also missed my future.
One
Gabe
I’m getting there!
After surveyi
ng the room, littered with empty boxes and crumpled pieces of newspaper, I was proud of what I’d accomplished in one morning. But in reality, I’d pulled things out and arranged them in piles. One for work. Another for home. And a third to donate. And another two but who knows where they were headed. Organization was not my strong suit. Should have sorted out this shit before I left my old place.
But glancing over my shoulder, I spied the unopened boxes near the doorway with ‘What’s this?’ And ‘No idea what’s in here,’ in huge red letters on the sides. They were taunting me, and I gave up and slumped onto an old beanbag that had seen better days which belonged to my new temporary roommate, Corey.
And just as I was thinking of him, he poked his head through the doorway. “Bravo!, Gabe.” He clapped and examined my efforts. “You deserve a medal for taking things out, looking at them, and making a huge mess. There must be a job where those skills are in demand.” He stroked his chin. “I’ve got it! College professor.”
“Ha freaking ha.” Not having the energy to get up, I gave him the finger. Corey may have been my new roommate, but we were old college buddies. Good friends from when we were poor undergrads, working two jobs to pay the bills, doing all-nighters to finish assignments, and enjoying the freedom that came with finishing high school and before going out into the big wide world and getting a proper job.
Arriving in a city I’d never lived where a new job awaited, I was grateful he’d given me a place to stay until I got an apartment of my own. I assured him I was on top of things. “I’ll be finished by this evening. You won’t recognize the place once I’m done.”
His eyes flicked around the chaos that was spread across his spare bedroom. “Sorry to break it to you, bro, but unless you’re a superhero, that’s not going to happen.”
Give it to me straight, why don’t you?
I waved my hand at the mountain of boxes towering over the room. “Not all of this needs to be unpacked. It’s mostly books I need for the start of term.” I tapped my lips and admitted, “The problem is I’m not entirely sure what’s where.”
“Why didn’t you have the work stuff delivered to your office at the college?”
I inspected the grit under my nails and longed for a shower. “Again, that’s my fault.”
“Shocker.”
Corey had survived my messy habits and lack of organization in our old digs, and he’d made a schedule which showed my undergrad lecture and tutorial timetable but also the household chores I was responsible for. He even gave me stars when I completed a task which was really embarrassing when newcomers walked into our place, especially ones we were sleeping with or hoped to.
“Ummm… I forgot to label them. It was such a rush when I was leaving, I didn’t number them or keep a list of what was in each one. And now I need to go through them.”
He collapsed on the beanbag beside me.
“But also my new office is being painted, and I couldn’t drop anything off. So there you go, I’m only partly to blame.”
Corey inspected his once-tidy room. “I know what you need.”
Hoping he was going to say a beer, I nudged him with my elbow, wondering if he’d hidden a cooler behind me. “What’s that?”
“Stars!” He pulled a little handwritten chart from his pocket and presented it to me with both hands while laughing hysterically.
“You fucker!” I grabbed a pillow that’d been tossed on the floor and pounded him with it.
He raised his hands and yelled, “I surrender.” He crawled to the door and popped up holding a bottle of beer in each hand, and judging by the condensation glistening on the sides, they were cold.
We huddled together on the beanbag, sipping our drinks. The amber liquid went down a treat, and a shower along with Chinese food would round the day off nicely.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about… what was that alpha’s name?” Corey asked.
My beer was finished, so I grabbed his and took a swig before he could snatch it back. “You think you’re so smart.”
“I know I am,” he replied.
He knew the alpha’s name and was aware he’d fucked off with an undergrad. We weren’t serious so it hadn’t broken my heart, but I’d had to see them both almost every day on campus, loved up and unable to keep their hands off one another. One of the many reasons I was glad to move away when I decided to do further study over a year ago.
But what I’d never told Corey was when I was getting on that plane. I’d frozen at the door, and the fight attendant thought I was scared of flying. People behind me grumbled and pushed past, until I’d stumbled along the aisle and fell into my seat. I’d never spoken of it to anyone, and the only way I could describe it was an invisible hand had clamped on my shoulder and attempted to pull me off the plane. So weird to think of that now!
Corey wriggled his ass trying to get more comfortable. “There’s this…”
I finished the sentence for him. “…guy. No, guy, Corey. I’ve got a demanding new job that’ll take all my time. I’m not going to fuck it up by making googly eyes at some alpha.”
“Can I finish my sentence?”
I gave a mock bow and said, “Go ahead.”
“I wasn’t going to say a guy, you idiot.” He punched me in the shoulder and I winched. “Gabe, you need to get to the gym more. Man, you’re getting soft.”
“Get on with it,” I suggested.
“App, Gabe. There’s this amazing app.”
“Wow! Please explain this new-fangled invention,” I teased.
“Shut it. It’s a dating app.”
“Oh no, now you’ve spoiled it. Why are you so freaking obsessed with me dating?”
The grin was wiped from his face. “Because the alphas you’ve been involved with have fucked you over.”
That last part was true.
“You’re a good man, Gabe, and you deserve to find your one and only.”
I tossed the pillow at his head. “One and only? Where’d you get that from?”
“Love and Hate. That’s the name of the app.”
I groaned. “Don’t do this to me.” I’d never used a dating app, and based on the name, this one didn’t sound promising.
“You list one thing you love and one you hate.”
“That’s it?” I clutched my heart and added, “And after that I’ll find my one true love.”
“Stop it. You’re making fun of me.”
“How’d you guess?” I rubbed my knuckles on his head, and he yelped, and we ended up wrestling on the floor. When we were done, I was out of breath. Corey was right about one thing. I did need to exercise more.”
“We’re like a couple of frat boys,” he said as he lay on his back panting.
I hope not! “Here.” I handed him my phone.
“What’s this for?
“Do it. Download the app for me,” I instructed.
Corey sat up. “Why the change of heart?”
“Your comment about frat boys. It triggered something in me because that’s not who I am and wouldn’t ever want to be.”
“It was a joke, Gabe.”
“Maybe, but it achieved your original purpose.”
“Go me.” He tapped at the phone, but I left him to it and took a shower. Both of us were eager to get away from the pandemonium that was my room so we went out to eat.
But later that night after Corey was asleep, I lay on his sofa bed in the spare room, my legs dangling over the edge, and flicked through the app. What’s with these people’s obsession with meat? Steak, in particular. Had I stumbled onto a dieting group where people ate as cavemen did? I enjoyed red meat once or twice a week, but I was trying to cut back.
Imagining an alpha roleplaying a Neanderthal munching on a leg of wild boar while dragging his helpless mate by the hair over the rough ground was titillating. And my cock agreed with me.
They were also fixated on that TV show my former boyfriend loved. Shifter World! Many of the ‘loves’ were about Greg and Finn! Oh, God h
ad those two slept together yet? Shawn, my ex, was part of a chat group where people argued about whether the fictional pair had done the deed. They also wrote fanfic, some of which was pretty decent, and I’d suggested they polish it and publish.
Meat-loving, prehistoric men who were fanatical about fictional characters on a TV show? The description had a certain charm. I pictured a brawny alpha draped in animal fur, his hard cock hanging free ready to ram itself into me and fanned myself. My hand slid to my length and I tugged it and moaned and longed for a huge beast of a man to wrap his lips around it.
But the image that had me hot and bothered faded as Corey stumbled past the room on his way to the kitchen. Who was I kidding? If that fantasy became reality, I’ll keel over in shock. I promised Corey I’d try it, though a dating app that asked two questions wasn’t going to find anyone compatible.
I chose the steak-loving fans of Shifter World, knowing I’d never get a match, and if I did, it’d be someone screwing with me.
Now, what am I supposed to do? I fumbled in the dark and wrote my two responses. Love Greg and Finn who I’m sure adore steak. It was over-the-top and I’d probably get bounced for adding too much detail. Hate anyone who doesn’t like Shifter World and thinks Greg and Finn aren’t made for each other.
Two
Brad
A human. Another fucking human.
The first time, I figured I chose the wrong code on the app. I mean, it was easy to do. Twenty thousand subtle nuances all played in the backdrop of the dating app. It could happen to the best of us.
Matched To His Bear: An M/M Mpreg Shifter Dating App Romance (The Dates of Our Lives Book 2) Page 1