Beloved by the Bear_A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance

by Isadora Montrose

  “Thank you,” he said gruffly.

  A crowd of youngsters suddenly appeared at his hip chorusing for meat. Serena returned to her job, hardly knowing whether to be thankful for the interruption, or resentful of it. The big hunter flashed her another dazzling smile and melted into the crowd. He moved quietly and quickly for such a big man. Typical hunter. All the better to catch you in the woods, my dear.

  The band came out and began to tune up. When they struck up the first waltz, Ryan led Claudia onto the dance floor. They moved well together. Looked madly in love. Maybe a sorceress could be happy with a hunter. Serena wasn’t sure. Talk was that the town council had intervened in their relationship, forcing their match. But Ryan and Claudia didn’t look like they needed glue. They looked bonded and ecstatic.

  But then supposedly Ryan and Claudia had already been married for four years, although they had separated before the birth of their son. There was a lot of chatter about little Jimmy’s hybrid vigor. Not that there seemed to be much wrong with the boy despite the gossip in town. He was a sweet child. Still, you never knew with mixed breeds. It was always better to stick with your own kind.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Anton~

  When she left work, she ought to come out that side door. The inn’s back lot was set aside for deliveries and employees. Anton still hadn’t made up his mind whether he would speak to Miss Serena or not. Probably scare her half to death if she realized some big stranger was lurking outside in the dark just to get a glimpse of her. How do you spell stalker? Yet he desperately needed another look at his woman.

  The lot was reasonably well lit. Periodically, the inn’s security guard trotted through it waving his flashlight between the cars. That was probably okay security for a place like Mystic Bay. Anton was probably too accustomed to being hyper-vigilant about security. Too used to assessing danger. Of course that wasn’t a bad thing when you were employed by a security company. Might be overkill in a tiny town like Mystic Bay.

  But even Anton couldn’t pretend he was waiting to save Serena Merryman from deadly peril. That wasn’t why he was out here in the cold. Nope. He just wanted to see her again. Shades of fricking middle school. Anton propped his shoulders against the brick wall, well back in the shadows, and hoped the security guard did not spot him. He didn’t want to have to explain to that little bunny shifter what the heck he was doing skulking out here in the dark.

  There were three cars left in the employee lot. Which one was hers? He guessed the little blue compact. But there was no way to know. A bit after 2200 hours a dark green SUV pulled into the lot and parked broadside by the door. The driver got out unhurriedly and left the car running. Inconsiderate. He opened the side passenger door before positioning himself by the back door. He waited, legs slightly spread, hands in back pockets, muscles easy.

  Anton assessed him automatically. Slight, kind of ferrety. Was this the little dude he was going to have to go through to get to the mermaid? There he went again. Hadn’t his father and his Uncle Pierre told him such primitive thinking put women off? But the thought of Ferret Boy holding hands with Serena made him feel primitive. Poor SOB probably wasn’t even connected to her, it was just Anton’s jealousy going into overdrive. Down, bear.

  When it happened, it happened fast. The back door opened. Ferret Boy reached for whoever was coming out. Serena stumbled forward, thrown off balance. Before Anton could get between them, she recovered, pivoted on her left leg and drove the heel of her sensible right shoe directly into Ferret Boy’s crotch. Hard. Ferret Boy released her arm as he crumpled to the ground. His hands cupped his equipment.

  “Bitch,” he muttered.

  The security guard came around the side of the building, and moving swiftly, interposed his slight body between Ferret Boy and the mermaid. He shone his flashlight straight into the ferret’s eyes. Ferret Boy turned his head away, groaned, and guarded his privates.

  “What’s going on?” the guard said in a clear tenor. Anton took a good look. This bunny had been a guest at the reception. Interesting. He had a deputy’s badge hanging off his belt along with a small forest of gadgets.

  “Why don’t you mind your own business, Bunnykins?” Ferret Boy rolled away from the light.

  The guard calmly stepped over the fallen would-be assailant and blinded him again with the flashlight beam. “You stay put, punk. You all right, Serena?”

  “No thanks to Jerome,” snapped Serena. She was breathing hard and now that the danger had passed she was shaking.

  The bunny turned to Anton who had stepped forward. Bunnykins was a twitchy, scrawny little fellow with watery blue eyes, but he had positioned himself exactly right to control the situation. “You this guy’s backup or what?”

  Anton shook his head and took a slow, respectful step away with his empty hands held to the sides. “No, sir. I never saw him before. He was waiting for Miss Serena. Grabbed her as soon as she opened the door.”

  Ferret Boy rolled onto all fours and tried to get up. The flashlight was nearly as big as the bunny. He rammed it into Ferret Boy’s back. “You stay put, Bock,” he growled.

  Ferret Boy collapsed and froze. Probably thought there was a gun against his spine. “My name is Jerome Brooks,” he complained.

  The rabbit snorted. “That’s not what your prints say, Bock.”

  There was silence for a couple of heartbeats. Serena caught her breath. “What do you mean, Wally?”

  “I ran this guy’s fingerprints through the system. Came up with a Dyson Bock wanted for sexual assault in Massachusetts.” Wally knelt on Bock’s back and secured his wrists behind him with plastic handcuffs. He turned back to Serena. “How would he know you were working late?”

  Bock lifted his face from the gravel. “This is all a misunderstanding,” he said smoothly. “I came to pick you up, Serena. Your dad and I flipped for it.”

  The light over the door showed Serena’s pretty lips drawn tight. Her hair was pulled back from her face braided tightly. The lights turned it a streaky grayish color. “Well, Dad didn’t tell me. What the heck did you grab me for?” Her voice shook.

  Wally turned his head. “You got a reason to be out here, Sergeant?” Hi voice was high-pitched but authoritative.

  So the bunny knew who Anton was, even in civvies. That didn’t surprise him. He knew a good lawman when he met one. “I was just getting a little fresh air, sir.”

  “Hmph. You see what happened?”

  “Pretty much. Bock here grabbed Miss Serena when she came through the door. She kicked him where it would do the most good. His car’s right there, door open, engine running, ready for a snatch. He didn’t say squat.” Anton made his report. “Miss Serena, if you need a ride home, I’d be happy to provide one. Minus the grabbing.”

  “You want to press charges, Serena?” asked the guard.

  “You bet, Wally.” She looked at Anton. Those big eyes made his heart skip. “I’d appreciate a ride, if it’s no trouble.”

  The security guard held out a hand to Anton. “Walter Babcock,” he said.

  Anton had to stoop a little to take Babcock’s hand. “Anton Benoit.” He gave his full name even though he suspected Babcock knew precisely who he was. “It’s a pleasure, sir.”

  “You’re one of Rutherford’s Marine buddies, aren’t you?”

  “You might say so.” He and Rutherford had actually met after their discharge when they joined the unofficial shifter police. They had bonded while tracking rogues.*

  “Well, Benoit, I don’t see as Miss Serena would be any better off going home with some strange hunter rather than this Bock. And I’ll have to impound his vehicle.”

  Although Rutherford had warned him, this was the first time Anton had been treated to that particular West Haven insult. Not that calling a bear a hunter wasn’t right on the mark.

  “You’re right, Deputy.” Anton fished his car keys out of his pocket and held them out to Serena. “You take my pickup, Miss Serena, and I’ll get it back in the mornin
g, or you can drive it back here if you still don’t have a vehicle.”

  “You’d let a stranger drive your truck?” Serena asked in surprise.

  “We aren’t fated to be strangers,” he said.

  Babcock cleared his throat. “You show Miss Serena to your truck, Benoit, while I take this miscreant to the lockup.”

  “Miscreant?” Anton asked.

  “Means a bad guy,” Babcock explained kindly.

  “I know what it means, just seems a trifle fancy for some sleazy, wannabe rapist.”

  Babcock snorted again. He nudged Bock with his flashlight before yanking him to his feet by the cuffs. “We’re gonna walk to the jail,” he said. “You going to cooperate?”

  *The shifter police or Fuck Alls were first introduced in Phoenix Ablaze.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Serena~

  Her heart was thudding, she couldn’t tell whether it was because of the attack or because she was near enough to the hunter to smell him. He walked beside her like a warrior, alert and braced. Testosterone and adrenaline rolled off him in waves. Yet he made no attempt to touch her. His presence should have felt like a threat. Instead it made her feel safe. Treasured.

  “Why would your daddy send that guy to pick you up?” Anton asked conversationally.

  Serena sighed. How could she explain to this stranger that her family was desperate to match her? Dyson Bock had shown up in Mystic Bay claiming to be from a mer-community in Nantucket. Her father had wangled him a job on the museum construction site and more or less invited him to make the Merryman house his home.

  “It’s a long story,” she said. The inn’s guest lot was directly in front of the converted Victorian mansion. There was no pickup parked in it. “Where’s your truck?” Please, not another bad guy.

  “Behind my cabin.”

  That meant Anton was in Sunflower which faced the ocean and was subject to the full blast of the winter gales. Sunflower was the only cabin with a private parking pad.

  The inn’s cabins all had flower names. Sunflower was the smallest, coldest and least desirable of all the cottages. So either Anton had got the last booking, or he wasn’t rich like his pal Ryan Rutherford. The Rutherfords were property developers and loaded. Of course, the pay in the military wasn’t great.

  “You want to go inside and wait in the lobby?” Anton asked. “I can bring the truck around. Save you the walk.”

  Against all the wisdom of the merfolk, she wanted to keep strolling beside this broad hunter. As if he would defend her against all attacks. “What are you?” she blurted.

  “Black bear.” His deep voice was calm and certain. It made ripples cascade through her body. He angled his body so she naturally turned toward the inn’s steps as he had suggested. He came up the risers behind her, but his hand got to the door first and held it open for her.

  “I’ll be right back, Miss Serena. You tell whoever’s at the desk that Deputy Babcock is booking Bock.” He held out his hand for his keys.

  He was as good as his word. He was back before Phyllis Preston had finished exclaiming over Jerome Brooks turning out to be a rapist named Dyson Bock.

  “You’ll need my number so you can tell me how you’re going to get the truck back to me,” Anton said on the steps.

  They spent a few minutes exchanging phone numbers. Never in a million years would she have expected to feel so comfortable standing next to a bear. One of the largest land predators. One of the most dangerous of all hunters.

  Anton gave her a boost into his old blue truck. Just the barest of lifts. Serena wasn’t a short woman, but he made her feel short. She was no lightweight, but he lifted her like she was thistledown.

  His hands on her waist made her skin tingle. She should have been mortified by how excited he made her feel. Instead a powerful femininity gripped her for the first time in her life. She knew herself to be infinitely alluring. She was in such trouble.

  “Thank you,” she said before he could close the door.

  He paused with the door in his hand. “Buckle up,” he ordered. “You did good tonight. Saved yourself. Only next time, you run like hell after you kick the bas, um, dude.”

  For goodness’ sakes. Anton Benoit was as take-charge as any of the alpha males infesting her family. Just as well they had no kind of future. What sort of life would a woman lead under the thumb of such a dominant male? Too bad that made her think of other ways a woman could be under the control of a virile steamroller.

  She drove home bemused and a little indignant. She had been poised for flight when Wally had shown up. Wally Babcock might be short and slim, but he was also a fine lawman. As soon as the deputy appeared, she had known she was safe. Of course, she hadn’t spotted Anton hanging out in the shadows. And he could potentially have been in cahoots with Jerome. Scratch that, with Bock.

  After all, she only had Anton’s word for it that he wasn’t. But her intuition told her she could take his word to the bank. She had heard that psychopaths were great at instilling confidence in their victims. Common sense told her she shouldn’t take him or his kindness at face value. Her heart told her she could trust him. She was too tired to judge.

  His truck drove as if it had just been tuned up. And it was spotlessly clean. Not like her cousins’ vehicles with their scattering of tools, coffee cups and fast food wrappers. But it wasn’t new by any means. Anton Benoit was a worker bee, like her and her family. Somehow she didn’t think that would make her family any happier with a hunter.

  Mom and Dad had had high hopes of Jerome. He was a merman. One of them. They liked him. She had been indifferent, and more grateful than not that over the last month she had been too busy to date. Between the furor surrounding the Peterson-Rutherford reception, and the extra work catering for the museum job site, she had been kept hopping.

  It had been bad enough that she constantly found Jerome watching the game with her dad whenever she visited her parents. Her father had made excuses to leave them alone in the living room, but she had not been tempted to encourage the stranger. She had turned down his invitations and kept their conversations focused on what was happening on-screen. Looked like her instincts had been right on target.

  Did that mean she was right about Sgt. Anton Benoit USMC, the black bear shifter? Probably not. Instincts were useful, but that didn’t mean that common sense shouldn’t guide your decisions. A mermaid had no future with a predator. That went double for the daughter of the mer-king. Dad was bound and determined that she would marry a merman. And let’s face it, her instincts had warned her that Jerome Brooks wanted to marry up, not that he was a sexual predator.

  Her older sister was still up when she got home to the bungalow they shared. Justine was one reason her parents were so set on Serena looking for a merman. Her sister had married an off-island psychic and wound up separated and shattered by the experience.

  As far as Serena was concerned the trouble with Chris was not that he was a psychic, but that he was a mean psychic with no job. She had encouraged her sister to throw her emotionally abusive spouse out. Their cousins had made sure he didn’t come back.

  Mom and Dad didn’t see it that way. They thought that if Justine had married a merman that she would have lived happily ever after. The trouble on West Haven was that it was difficult to meet one that they were not related to six different ways.

  The Merrymans had been living on the island of West Haven for nearly two hundred years. Ever since they had left their ocean home. The local merfolk had repeatedly intermarried with each other, until Serena and Justine’s entire generation was genetic cousins if not siblings.

  Enter Bock aka Jerome Brooks. A handsome, single, East Coast merman. No wonder mom and dad had thought he was the answer to a parent’s prayer. Fresh blood. Fresh merfolk blood too. Not like Sgt. Anton Benoit who looked like he ate fish-people for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And went back for seconds and thirds.

  “Where did that truck come from?” Justine demanded as soon as Serena walked in
to the house. “I thought Jerome was bringing you home?”

  She plopped down on the couch and put up her aching feet. She had been on them since 5:00 a.m. To interjections of shock and disgust, she told her sister what had happened. Justine hadn’t taken to Jerome any better than Serena had, but she was still flabbergasted.

  “I picked up a weird vibe from Jerome,” Justine exclaimed. “But I would never have thought he was a rapist. I wonder what made Wally run his prints?”

  “You know Wally. He’s got great instincts. Bock must have said or done something that set them off.” Serena massaged her feet.

  “So this bear just handed you his keys?” Justine continued.

  “Yeah. He remembered me from the reception. I guess he figured since he knew where I worked that it was safe enough.”

  “Oh, right. It was really nice of him.”

  “It was. Until Wally told him he was a strange hunter, he was all set to drive me home. You should have seen his face! Stiff as a board. And then he handed me his keys.” Serena chuckled. At the time she had been too shattered to see the humor. In retrospect, it was hilarious.

  “Sounds like a good guy. Too bad he’s from away. He’ll be leaving tomorrow on the noon ferry,” Justine pointed out.

  “Just as soon as I give his truck back.” And there ought to be nothing in that to make her regretful.

  “Lucky for you, he was willing to lend it. Did he tell you guys what he was doing skulking outside the back door?”

  “No. No, he didn’t.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Anton~

  He woke at dawn. At reveille. Old habits were hard to shake. The ocean was reflecting ripples of pink light onto his bedroom ceiling. He had had pleasant dreams. At least he thought he had. He had a vague memory of Serena’s lovely face and lush body, although he couldn’t recall any details.