Moonlight, Monsters & Magic

by Linda G. Hill

  All because of love.

  “And open!”

  Markus’s enthusiasm caused her to laugh, but it was the sight before her that stopped her heart with pure joy. It was Tipton’s Chalet, completely restored, and just how she remembered it before the fire. It would be the perfect place to raise a family. But that was a special surprise that she intended to reveal later.

  She turned to him. “How …?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “Let’s just say I found a good way to invest my savings.” He waved a hand toward the newly built lodge. “Welcome to Henley’s Chalet.”

  With a squeal of delight, she threw herself into his arms. “It’s perfect.” She kissed him to seal the deal, and added, “You’re perfect.”

  He brushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Only with you beside me,” he whispered, before he pulled away and offered his arm. “Mrs. Henley, shall we go home?”

  ~*The End*~

  For Doug who always finds the inner beauty in me.

  ~ TW

  ~~ * * * ~~

  About the Author

  Tabetha Waite is the award-winning author of the Ways of Love historical romance series. She makes her home in Missouri with her husband and two daughters. She loves to hear from her readers!

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  HONEY AND HER GRUMPY BEAR

  Taylor Morgan

  Someone’s been sleeping in my bed…

  Everett’s spent his life mistrusting humans. The last thing this shifter needs is a week with his sister’s sweet-as-honey best friend underfoot. As his desire surges, he resolves to push Honey away—for good.

  This man is just right.

  Mari’s living her dream: opening a café in a small Tennessee mountain town. The only thing left on her list is her dream man. Lucky for her, she’s now living with him for a week. And she knows just how to trap a hungry bear.

  When this bear reveals the truth of his growly nature, will Goldilocks run away?

  (m/f; heat level: smoking)

  HONEY AND HER GRUMPY BEAR

  Who in the hell thought they could just drive up to his house? Everett’s paws crunched the fallen leaves on the forest floor as he bounded to the nearby watering hole. After spending a full week dealing with people at his latest sawdust show, he was not in the mood to deal with surprises. Not when he knew what awaited him at home.

  Her scent. It coated his home—his den, as his inner bear preferred to call it—and his things for weeks, every time she left. He could wash the sheets and clean the house to expunge her lingering presence, but he never did. The sweet torture was a luxury as well. Instead, he chose to spend weeks imagining waking with her beside him and falling asleep with her wrapped around him. His sister, Bailey, made a point to bring Marigold with her when she visited his small mountain town once a year, and each time it was the same. Last week he’d missed one such visit by the two best friends.

  Everett jerked to a halt at the edge of the watering hole, panting for breath. Exhaustion was the only remedy for his torture this evening, and it took more to tire him than the average man. A long ramble through the forest should do nicely. Clearing his mind but for the sounds of the forest— rabbits rustling in the underbrush, birds flying overhead, the earth shaking with his impact— he set out for his den.

  All too soon, he arrived at his clearing and was greeted by the same damn car he’d stopped earlier. Someone clearly thought they had a right to his space. Cursing himself for not taking a better look at the driver, he stalked back into the forest to shift. Changing forms was as simple and painless as breathing, and almost as quick. One thought, one breath, and Everett was back to his burly, hairy, man-shaped self.

  He skipped the porch steps in one lunge and pushed open the unlocked door. Shit. The intruder knew where his key was. He didn’t hide it anywhere particularly tricky to discover—there was no need to worry about thieves around here. Until now.

  One step into his cabin and Everett recoiled, acrid smoke assaulting his nostrils. His eyes swept the living area to assess what the intruder had lit on fire as his mind registered a vaguely familiar scent. Cookies.

  He stalked to the smoking oven and removed the offending pan of charred discs, snarling as he clutched the pan in his bare fist. This stranger decided to come into his den and bake cookies. Whoever this lost traveler was, they were in for an unfortunate surprise when Everett found them. Their failed foray into cooking had cost Everett his favorite indulgence: Mari’s scent had been obliterated by the burned pastries.

  He should thank them for saving him from his own weakness, but his wrath overpowered any gratitude he may have felt. He hurled the smoking pan out the front door. As he stepped back into the living room, he stumbled on a pair of shoes. Everett huffed out a humorless laugh. The perpetrator wasn’t prepared for the wilderness in the slightest. Who visited the mountains wearing heels?

  A sound sent Everett stalking to his bedroom. No. Surely this mistaken visitor hadn’t gone into his bed and destroyed Mari’s scent there too ... His first glance at the villain in question brought him to a halt.

  She lay sprawled across his bed, her honey-blonde waves splayed across the sheets as her legs rubbed together. She moaned. The cherry-red lips that taunted him with their spunk each time he visited his sister let loose a whimpered, “Everett.” Unconscious, she rolled and buried her nose in his sheets. Her restless slumber had hiked her dress up to her waist, leaving Everett with a clear view of her delicate lace undergarments, which spliced her perfectly rounded bottom into two delectable, bitable handfuls.

  With a pained grunt, Everett forced his eyes back up her form, stalling on her breasts. That wasn’t her dress pulled tight, showcasing her needy peaks; it was his shirt. A sharp crack pulled him back to himself as he yanked the molding from the doorway in his agony. Her honeyed scent, mixed with her musk, overpowered the room. He had to get out before he did something they would both regret.

  The damned minx was torturing him when she knew he was off-limits. Why would she stay here to torment him when he’d had a week in hell, surrounded by humans? He roared as he turned to the living room and grabbed a pair of his sweats.

  ~~ * * * ~~

  Mari bolted upright as a roar jolted her from her decadent dream. Having secret fantasies about her best friend’s older brother while nose deep in his sheets messed with a woman’s conscience. Lord have mercy, his sheets were fresh but still smelled just like him: birch, soil, and sawdust. He had no idea what he did to her with his muscular arms, grizzly beard, and growls. Speaking of growls ... Her thoughts came back to the roar that woke her, and the bear that had crossed her path on the way to the cabin. She whimpered.

  “Stop with the whimpers. They were damn bad enough when you were sleeping, I can’t listen to them while you’re awake, too,” a masculine voice rumbled from the other room.

  Well, crap on a cracker. Everett was home, and he did not sound pleased to see her.

  Mari jumped from the bed and strode into the living room. “Didn’t Bailey tell you I was staying this week? She said you were going to be at one of your woodworking shows this week.” The devil inside her pushed Mari to lift her arms and stretch, giving Everett a view of her lace-covered crotch. She groaned in delight as his eyes zeroed in on the area where she wanted his mouth to be.

  Before she could relish her victory in the ongoing battle for Everett’s attention, he grumbled, “Did you forget to bring clothes? I didn’t realize I was opening my closet to you as well.”

  His rough words stung, but Mari knew this game. Everett liked to play cool and unaffected, but she saw the heat in his gaze as she stretched, saw the way his eyes flared. He had an overzealous sense of brotherly loyalty that made him try to ignore her, but they had spen
t the past eight years tiptoeing around one another to avoid making things awkward for Bailey. This week Mari had planned to stay at Everett’s house while waiting for her rental to become available and to get a jumpstart on renovations to her new café. Now that they lived in the same small town, Mari was determined to give this heat between them a chance. If Everett intended to be the growly bear, she would just have to coax him out to play.

  With a cool shrug and a flip of her hair, Mari slipped on her heels. Everett’s gaze was heavy on her bum as she wiggled her bubblegum-pink toes into the straps. She added an extra jiggle to her step as she made her way to the door, but who could blame her? He really had been asking for this.

  Her hand hit the knob and her stomach tightened, waiting for his next move. She could feel his heated glare boring into her. A twist of the doorknob was met with a barely discernible rumble, “What do you think you’re doing, Honey?”

  Biting back her triumphant grin, Mari glanced over her shoulder, eyes wide. “I haven’t brought my bag inside yet.”

  She jingled her keys to drive her point home; the tinkle caused Everett’s jaw to clench and his eyes to narrow. “I’m going to go grab it so I have something to wear. I’d hate to put you out.” She flung the door open, strode onto the deck.

  She made it three feet toward her car when, birch, dirt, and sawdust enveloped her as large hands spanned her waist and hefted her into the air. Everett tossed her over his shoulder, scantily clad bum in the air, and strode inside. He slammed the door shut with one foot.

  “I said, what do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. She ceased her struggle for release as a large hand smacked her exposed bottom. Before she could recover from the deliciousness of his hand on her bare skin, Mari’s stomach lurched as Everett dropped her onto the sofa.

  “Jesus,” she cried, landing on the couch awkwardly. She quickly clenched her legs together to hide the embarrassing dampness between her thighs. His shirt bunched up around her breasts from her undignified position on his shoulder. “I was trying to get my clothes. I just got here an hour ago and I fell asleep. What are you doing, tossing me around like I’m on fire?” Her eyes blazed at the pure lust written across Everett’s bearded face.

  “You can’t just go outside looking indecent, Honey. Your ass was hanging out for every man to see and covet—and I don’t share.” He stumbled over his words. “You’re my little sister’s best friend. You can’t just walk around like that.”

  “My dress got dough on it, so I tossed it in the wash,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What do you expect me to wear? Your pants won’t fit me, and my bag is in the car.” She punctuated her pseudo-outrage with a wild finger waving toward her car. She froze mid-gesture. “Oh my God, the cookies!”

  She jumped up and ran to the kitchen before Everett could speak. In a panic, she turned to the oven, mitts in hand, to save the forgotten cookies. His bold and rusty laughter brought her eyes back to him. Hand on the oven door, she asked, “What’s so funny?”

  Laughing too hard to respond, Everett pointed at the door. Before Mari could exit the room again, he grabbed her arm. Lord, the simple gesture shouldn’t have made her wish he’d move his fingers a half inch inward to touch her aching breasts, but she was only human.

  Their gazes met. Mari forgot to breathe, caught in his spell.

  Breaking the magic of the moment, he dropped his hold. “The damn cookies. You burned them, and I had to throw the pan out. You’re lucky you didn’t start a fire with how black they were.” Laughter took over again, the crinkling by his eyes and mouth an unfamiliar sight. It was a darned good look for him.

  Everett continued, “It’s getting late. Why don’t we skip the cookies and you can whip something up with your culinary skills while I go get you something decent to wear. Then we’ll figure out how the hell my sister messed up the dates for your visit. She told me you would be here last week while I was gone. Sound good, Honey?”

  That nickname might have made her heart beat a little faster if it didn’t come out so casually. It was such a common word, she was certain he called all women that. Why he chose now to call her that, she didn’t know. She didn’t want to be just another woman, she wanted to be his woman.

  Years of foreplay, teasing, and cherishing his hot looks had turned the tension between them almost palpable. Damn it, their moment was now. And she was seizing it.

  So, she couldn’t hold back her slightly annoyed, “I’m not your honey, Grumpy Bear,” as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and stomped into the kitchen.

  “You smell like honey.”

  If she hadn’t been so attuned to his low rumbles, she’d have missed it. She froze mid-step, her eyes widening. She wanted—no, needed—to hear more.

  “Sweet, delicious, decadent.” He shrugged and his cheeks pinkened beneath his chestnut beard, the hue turning his manly features almost boyish. He walked outside, quietly shutting the door before Mari could reply.

  ~~ * * * ~~

  “You smell like honey,” Everett muttered as he hauled the bag that had caused this whole ruckus out of Mari’s car, jerking it with more force than necessary. If he wanted to discourage the enticing woman, he needed to avoid letting his true feelings show. If he cared to be honest with himself, which he certainly did not, Mari was one of the few people he didn’t hate being around. More honestly, he enjoyed his time around her. But his enjoyment of her company didn’t change the key rules of their not-relationship.

  Rule One: friends are off-limits. Bailey had spent her whole life fending off fake friends who just wanted to get closer to Everett. He would never forget the broken look on her face when Sarah, her supposed best friend all through high school, quit returning her calls after Everett made it clear he wasn’t interested. Everett would never again hurt Bailey like that.

  Rule Two: humans cannot be trusted with shifters’ secrets. As far as the general population knew, shifters weren’t real. Everett had witnessed the terrifying effects of trusting humans with their existence when he was a child.

  His Uncle Nick had loved a human woman, and things seemed to be perfect between them. Then, he’d decided to tell her he was a shifter. She hadn’t just left him, she’d called the government. Everyone was told Uncle Nick had died in a tragic accident, but Everett had been hiding in the bushes when they’d taken Nick, so he knew the truth.

  He would never subject himself or his family to the pain that that knowledge left him. Despite his desire for Mari, there was no room for a human woman in Everett’s life.

  He watched the sun fall behind the pines, a crisp autumn breeze blowing through his hair, before walking into his den. He just had to withstand one night of torture with his deepest desire; he’d send her to the local B&B tomorrow. He glanced at Mari dancing around the kitchen, spoon in hand. The delicious aroma of garlic, cream, and a million other things he couldn’t name confirmed he possessed the strength of a cub. He was more enticed by her delicious appeal than the food. His pants were permanently tented with wanting her. He had to make sure she didn’t want him anymore.

  ~~ * * * ~~

  Mari was an excellent cook. The dish she’d placed in front of him had some fancy name he would never remember, but he could say with certainty that it was one of the best meals he had ever eaten. The present company may have been responsible for that. While they’d eaten, Mari had filled the silence with chatter about her new café, her plans for changes there, her nervousness about living in a small town, and how excited she was to meet new people and face new challenges. With her friendliness and her driven vision, her café would certainly succeed.

  His grunts and grumbles were designed to discourage her, but he could swear she knew they were really encouragement and affirmation. She always seemed to know exactly what his rumbles meant. The glint in her eye as she’d licked her lips like she’d wanted to devour him suggested his plan was not working.

  Maybe he should have bothered to put on a shirt, Everett thought as he walked to the kitchen
and put away the dishes. Not that a shirt would have deterred her eyes roving over him. Doubtful it would have barred her from brushing against him as she’d leaned across the table to grab the salt. It certainly hadn’t blocked her scent from clogging his senses or her bright laughter from filling his heart.

  He needed space to clear his head, to escape the sight of her nipples peeking through the thin white fabric of his shirt as she sat across from him. Damn her for cooking without changing. Still, his subconscious taunted him. Would one night really be such a terrible idea? No. One night, one taste, would ruin him.

  A hand stroked up his back and down his abs, and he froze. He never gave much thought to his attractiveness, but he hoped like hell Mari liked hairy men as she petted the furry trail leading down into his pants. He slammed his hands on the counter, fingertips digging into the hard wood, as she pressed her breasts against his back. She circled her hips against him, kissing his bare shoulder. His control was close to snapping. Only the barest sense of self-preservation as she petted his fur reminded him she wouldn’t be doing this if she knew how furry he truly was. He needed to push her away. Permanently.

  “If I had known you were this desperate for a ride, babe, I would have offered my hospitality years ago.” The words burned as he forced them past his lips. Loss socked him in the gut as she tensed and pulled away. He grabbed her shaking hand, stilling her movements. Hating himself for what he was doing to her. Knowing it was for the best.