by T. S. Joyce
Hadley was his mate.
“No,” he argued, standing and pacing the room. She wasn’t. No one was, because he was destined to be alone. The Long Claws had determined his fate when they demolished his clan, Blood Den.
He wasn’t fit to take care of another.
A knock pounded against his door. “Open up, it’s the police,” a deep voice called out.
Colin grinned, threw open the door, and was almost knocked over by the force of Benson Riker’s embrace. He clapped him on the back so hard it rattled his bones.
“It’s been too long,” Riker said as his little three-year-old girl wrapped her arms around Colin’s legs.
Tenderly, he bent down and picked up Ava, who was all big, blue eyes like her father and dark hair and spunk like Hannah, Riker’s mate. Hannah stepped through the door and hugged his neck.
“I can’t believe you’re still living up here all alone,” she admonished.
Colin filled his cheeks with air and crossed his eyes at Ava.
The girl laughed and tugged his beard. “Momma says we need to bring you meat because you don’t have no woman to make sure you’re eating like you should.” Her voice was pitched high and squeaky, and Colin stifled the urge to squeeze her tighter. She was the cutest kid in the world and sweet as sugar to boot.
“Well now, that’s true, but I like my peace and quiet.”
“Daddy says your bear is extra scary. He says it’s even scarier than mine, and I’m a grizzly.”
He laughed and tossed her up, then caught her to her giggling delight. “Nobody’s bear is scarier than a three-year-old grizzly, Ava. Nobody’s.”
Riker hauled in plastic bags of frozen meat, and Hannah organized his kitchen. It was clean, just like it was every time Riker’s family came to visit, but it was her way. She was used to being first lady up in Bear Valley and was a mother hen, and Colin fell under her protection.
He’d fussed about it the first couple of times, but she’d cowed him with her quick tongue right away, and now he just let her at it. He understood. They worried about him, and this made her feel better. Like she was helping him.
Colin sank into the couch cushions while Ava tried to braid his beard, and Riker took a seat across from him. “So?” the alpha asked.
“So what?” he said with a teasing grin. He knew exactly what Riker was asking about. He called him every two days to see where he and Hadley stood, but the answer was always the same. Nowhere.
“Have you talked to her today?”
“Yeah, and we’re in the same place we were last time. I can’t go after her, Riker. It’s not right.”
“Why not? This is what I don’t get. You never explain to me what the hold-up is.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Do you like Ms. Hadley?” Ava asked.
Colin rocked his head back until it rested on the couch. “Really, Riker? You told your kid about my dating problems?”
“What’s dating?” she asked, flopping onto the seat next to him.
“Well, it’s when two people…” He shrugged at Riker. He didn’t know how to explain adult stuff to little kids.
Riker spoke up. “It’s like when you go over to aunt Jenny’s and uncle Blaine’s to play with Rodge, and mommy and daddy go to dinner and a movie in town.”
“Oh.” Apparently not impressed with that explanation, she turned to Colin and asked, “Can I play with your dolls?”
Hannah snorted from the kitchen, and Colin frowned. “Yes, but they aren’t dolls. They are carvings or figurines, if you must. Ava?” The child had run into the other room to find the box of them. “They aren’t dolls,” he called again over his shoulder.
“Colin, the big-ass dominant bear, up here playing with his dolls in the mountains,” Riker murmured with a goading grin.
“Shut up, man,” he grumbled.
“Does Hadley like dolls?” Hannah asked, perching on the armchair next to her mate.
“Har har, and I don’t know. Our conversations stay pretty shallow, the way they need to be.”
Hanna’s face softened, and the smile fell from her lips. “Colin, bears aren’t meant to live alone. You are social creatures. What you’re doing to yourself, punishing yourself, is wrong. You don’t deserve this.”
Colin swallowed hard and slipped his sunglasses over his eyes, then dragged his attention to a picture of Blood Den that hung from his wall. It had been taken a few months before the Long Claw’s attack. “I like it up here alone. It’s not a punishment. I just don’t want to get attached to a clan again.”
“Okay, you at least deserve a mate.”
“A mate?” he asked, bitterness tainting his words. “What could I give to someone like Hadley?”
“Don’t give me that shit,” Riker said, his blue eyes blazing. “You make plenty of money. Cameron brings me the numbers you’ve been sending us. But you give away your money to try and make up for whatever shortcomings you’ve pinned on yourself.”
“No, I send that money because you have five of the remaining Blood Den clan in Bear Valley now. I couldn’t take care of them when we were in the shit, but I can now. I send it to help you out, because you’re my friends, and I like feeling like I’m a part of you, even if I live out here. And Cameron swore he wouldn’t out what I was doing, so he’s a dick for telling you.”
“Not a dick, Colin, just thorough with his books. That’s what has our finances on the up and up. If Cameron hides away the money you send us, his bear wouldn’t stand for it, and you know it.”
A long growl left his lips, and his head twitched. Riker was right. He shouldn’t have asked Cameron to lie. He just wanted to send money without having this conversation. “I’ll call him and apologize.”
“We worry about you,” Hannah said. “You have no clan to lean on out here. You’re right on the edge of our territory, so what would it hurt to move all the way into Bear Valley? You can have a cabin on the outskirts if you want, and you can build a new shop. We’ll give you the materials for it. It’s time to start living again, Colin, and this…” She looked around at his tiny cabin. “This isn’t it.”
It might not look like much, but it was his, and it was home. And for reasons he didn’t want to explain to them or anyone else on the planet, he deserved this lonely existence.
“At least think of asking Hadley out,” Hannah pleaded. “Let at least one person in, and we’ll lay off.”
“If I ask Hadley out, you’ll stop worrying about me?”
“Yes.” Hanna rubbed Riker’s neck as the alpha sat stoically with his fingers pressed together in front of his mouth.
Colin sighed, utterly defeated. This was a terrible idea, and likely one that would get both he and Hadley hurt, but the temptation to talk to her in person was a big one. And if it would put Riker and Hannah off pestering him about it… “Fine,” he growled out. “But if I ruin her life, it’s on you.”
Hannah squealed and bounded over to his laptop like an overexcited puppy. “Do it now so I can make sure you don’t screw it up.”
“Oh, God,” he grumbled, pushing himself upward.
He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Riker was hiding a smile.
Hannah gasped and Colin lurched back. “It’s Valentine’s Day this week!”
“That sounds like a human thing,” Colin said as he sank into the desk chair and brought up Hadley’s profile.
“Well, Hadley is human so best you adjust, Bearman28,” she said, squinting at the screen. “Plus, women like grand gestures, and there is no better time to do that than February fourteenth. You can let her know how you feel, and you’ll always remember this human holiday.”
“Give in, man,” Riker said, catching Ava as she flew through the air clutching two carved elephants. “Hannah loves Valentine’s Day.”
“So does Hadley, I bet. Ask her.” Hannah adjusted the angle of the computer screen so she could read it better.
“Uh, okay.” His heart went to pounding like it always did whe
n he was about to type something to her.
Favorite holiday? Go.
He sat back and waited. Sometimes Hadley responded right away if she was on a break or it was slow in the flower shop, but sometimes it took her all day.
Her icon popped up on the message board. That’s easy. Christmas.
Not Valentine’s Day?
Hate Valentine’s Day.
“See,” he said, cocking an eyebrow triumphantly at Hannah.
I have to work all day. Flower business, remember? And I’ve never had a date for Valentine’s Day.
Hannah nudged him like she’d won some secret trophy. “That’s a hint, man! Ask her out.”
“She has to work,” he said.
Hannah stood over his shoulder, staring at him like that excuse didn’t matter at all.
With a rattling growl in his chest, he typed out a response before he could change his mind.
You want to meet up for an anti-Valentine’s Day coffee? We could do it the 13th if you want.
He typed You don’t have to. I understand if this is too soon, but Hannah poked the delete button before he could give Hadley an out. Meddling woman.
Hadley didn’t answer.
Colin stared at the screen as the minutes ticked by, but nothing. He’d pushed too soon and scared her off. Shit! He’d scared her off him for good. Now there would be no more break in the monotony of his life. No more distraction from his loneliness. No more inside jokes with the woman he liked, and no more living to see a message from her in his inbox.
No more Hadley.
“Don’t say anything else, just leave it like that,” Hannah advised.
But by the time he’d made dinner and eaten with Riker and his family, Hadley still hadn’t responded. A sinking feeling burned in the pit of his stomach, and it felt like something huge was sitting on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.
He scooped up Ava and walked Riker and Hannah to their truck.
“It’ll be okay,” Hannah said. “You’ll see.”
But unless this was some hint into the secret world of women that she was privy to and he wasn’t, he didn’t see how anything would be okay again. He felt like he had been actually living again this past month since he’d built a friendly relationship with Hadley. And now, it hurt too much to think about the bleak future ahead of him.
He waved them off, and when he went back inside, swore to himself that he wouldn’t look at the damned computer. Instead, he veered into the bathroom and took a long shower.
Nothing had changed since he’d found Hadley online, so why did it feel like his entire world was crumbling around him?
Bloop.
Colin frowned and poked his head beyond the shower curtain. Shaking his head, he lathered his skin and rinsed off.
Bloop.
Okay, he hadn’t imagined the sound of a message that time. Rushing, he hit the tap and grabbed a towel. He was still soaking wet as he padded down the hall to his computer desk.
Anti-Valentine’s Day coffee, huh?
Sorry it took so long for me to answer. One of my vendors backed out of my Valentine’s Day shipment and I’ve been trying to track down someone else who can deliver two hundred red roses…anyway. Coffee sounds good. Where do you live by the way?
His fingers flew as he typed out a response.
Really? I live near Sheridan, which is why I was attracted to your profile. You live in Buffalo still, right? I can meet you at the coffee shop in town, or we can meet up in Sheridan if it makes you more comfortable.
Two minutes ticked by. His heart was going to jump out of his chest.
Do you know the Dash Inn?
Yes.
Meet there at noon? I have a short lunch break then.
A grin took his face.
Sounds good. I’ll be there.
Bearman28?
Yeah?
I really hope you aren’t a creeper.
Chapter Two
What had Hadley been thinking? She had the perfect relationship with Bearman28. Shallow, not terrifying, not feeling like she was jumping off a cliff, just nice and casual, and now that would all be ruined.
All because of her insatiable curiosity.
Yeah, okay? She wanted to know what he looked like. Obviously, he wouldn’t be some underwear model walking a runway or else he would’ve put a serious selfie on his online profile. Instead, he’d made a joke and put a bear to go with his profile name. She liked that. She did! He had a good sense of humor, and that was important…in a friend, since that was all this was. Coffee with a friend. A friend she liked to imagine was actually a decent guy she could connect with in real life as well as online.
She’d beat herself up over the last couple of days, but he’d been even more charming and endearing than ever. He just seemed grateful that she’d even meet him for coffee. And besides, this was how it worked, right? She had checked the profile Vona had set up because some part of her must believe in online dating. She’d heard stories before. Lonny McGregory met her husband on one of these sites, and Hadley had read gads of success stories on the Internet about people meeting their matches online, too. If she wasn’t willing to at least meet him once in a public, safe place, then why had she been growing a relationship with the man?
She tapped the tiny red stirrer for her coffee in quick succession against the table until it likely matched her drumming heartbeat. She’d stayed up late into the night imagining how her coffee date today would go, then woke way too early to pick an outfit. When she’d settled on a black chunky sweater, black leggings, and black boots for this anti-Valentine’s Day shindig, she’d then spent too much time straightening her hair to an unreasonably smooth texture. And to top her look off, she’d slathered on more make-up than she’d ever worn in her life. Why? Because that’s what men liked nowadays, right? Shit. The two cups of coffee before this one had made her jittery, and now her body felt like it was humming. She should’ve switched to decaf.
Checking her watch for the tenth time, she sighed her acceptance. He wasn’t coming. She’d told him her lunch break was only half an hour thanks to all of the Valentine’s Day orders she needed to ready, and he was now thirty-five minutes late.
This sucked.
She’d been stood up, and like an idiot, she just kept waiting for him.
Her heart sank to the bottom of her new boots, and she bit her lip hard to fight the tears that burned the backs of her eyes. This was supposed to be just a casual thing, but she’d really hoped to meet him. Instead, Bearman28 had hurt her.
Her phone chirped. She pulled it from her purse, then read the text message Vona had sent her.
Need you back at the flower shop ASAP.
Uh oh. That didn’t sound good. She left her unfinished coffee on the table and waved to the owner of the Dash Inn, then bolted for her little hatchback parked out front.
The flower shop was only five minutes away from the café, but she made it there in four. Thank goodness the weather had cleared and the snow had melted over the last couple of weeks. Her patience with the white, slushy inhibitor had worn as thin as spring ice. She threw the car into park beside what looked like a moving van and bolted inside.
As soon as she made it through the door, she skidded to a stop and stared at the stacks of red roses piled in neat bundles across the counter.
“What the hell?” she whispered.
A delivery guy smiled politely as he exited, and Vona peeked over the floral mountain. “Funny story.” Her eyes narrowed. “Strange story. Two hundred red roses were just delivered, and when I went to sign for them and pay, it seems they have already been taken care of.”
“By who?”
“By whoever wrote this note.” Vona handed over a red envelope.
Stepping around the counter, Hadley tore into the top flap, then pulled out a piece of what looked to be handmade paper.
All it said was:
I’m sorry.
Hadley dropped the letter and scrubbed her hands over
her face. Son of a biscuit eater. She wanted to be mad and hurt and feel betrayed, but then Bearman went and did this, and it sucked all of the emotion from her. Now, she didn’t know what to feel.
With a growl of frustration, she yanked the hose from the wall and began to fill huge plastic buckets of water. Okay, so Bearman had to have known he was going to stand her up because ordering flowers mid-February took some serious favors and time. Yet, he’d acted like nothing was amiss when she’d talked to him last night.
Vona stood against the counter with her arms crossed, head canted like she could see Hadley’s muddy aura. “What gives, boss lady?”
Hadley didn’t answer. She wasn’t ready to explain how she was feeling hurt and grateful and angry and happy all at once. The man cared to do something like this. He had to. She’d mentioned the failed order of roses one time to him, and he gifted her with the exact number she needed. Who did that? Who was that thoughtful?
Who was Bearman28?
“Can you start calling those folks we had to cancel rose orders for? Tell them plans have changed. We won’t get them all back, but we can try to get as many as possible.”
Paper crinkled as she moved to water the next drum.
“He stood you up, didn’t he?” Vona asked, gripping the homemade paper in a clenched hand. “That douche canoe! He did, didn’t he?”
“Vona—”
“No, Hadley. That’s not cool. Even this doesn’t make up for standing you up.”
“I just need you to help me move all of the roses into the refrigerator before they wilt, will you?”
“I know who he is.”
Hadley froze. “What?”
“I told you I know a nerd, and he tracked down Bearman28’s IP address. He doesn’t live in Sheridan, Hadley. He lives here.”
Shaking her head slowly, Hadley said, “You shouldn’t have done that. It’s a huge violation of his privacy.”
“Well, I wanted to make sure you were being safe about this all, and besides, I wasn’t going to tell you because I thought he’d at least have the decency to show up to your coffee date.”
“It wasn’t a date—”
“Oh, for crap’s sake—it was. You wore ten pounds of eyeliner and a shade of lip gloss I thought I’d never be able to get you to wear. He’s a jerk for standing you up. You look hot.”