My Duty to Bear: Standalone BBW BWWM Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (The Everson Brothers Book 2)

by Alana Hart

  She blinked in surprise. “Sure, sounds good.” She turned to go back around the counter, and I headed toward the door. “Didn’t you want something?” she asked, indicating the pastries that I had completely forgotten about.

  “Oh, yeah. I still do,” I called over my shoulder, pushing open the door and heading out into the brisk, cold air.

  ***

  Amy

  What the hell had just happened? I watched the tall, muscular man walk out of the door, then sank onto the stool, my legs giving way beneath me. Ryan had walked into my life, and in seconds, reduced me to a quivering mess of need.

  All my carefully constructed plans had been forgotten the minute his lips had touched mine, replaced with the searing heat of his caress as he drove me toward a state of bliss I hadn’t known existed.

  My fingers crept to my lips, touching the still sensitive flesh. My skin felt wonderfully ravaged, the sandpaper scrape of his jaw against mine flashing through my mind, sparking primal urges hidden inside of me.

  When his body had met mine, all hard edges and defined angles, my pulse had skipped, a yearning deep inside eclipsing all thought, all reason. And when I had felt the hard ridge of his cock pressed against me… If Connie hadn’t dropped that pan, I might have—

  No. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I lectured myself sternly. I wasn’t going there, not again.

  So, why had I agreed to be friends? And what did he want?

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ryan

  I would go back later, grab some of those pastries—my stomach grumbled in protest—and if Amy wasn’t around, I’d have a little chat with Connie. See what she could tell me about her latest employee.

  It wasn’t perfect, and fuck, it had taken every ounce of self-control I had to walk out of that shop, away from my mate, but I calmed myself by promising that I would go back. Soon.

  First, I needed to swing by the office and see what my deputy knew about the newest resident of Craggstone.

  Crossing the street, I headed down Main, past Ralph’s, and toward the impressive looking skyscraper at the end. Although, to call it a skyscraper was being generous. It was the tallest building in Craggstone, and it sat right next door to my office, towering over it. It belonged to the Colstone Wolf Pack, and luckily, they were an all right bunch. Quick to lend a hand if needed. I glanced at the sky again as the flakes of snow started to land a little thicker on the ground. We might need them soon if this snowfall got any worse. There were always some idiots who didn’t heed the weather warnings, and wandered a little too far from home.

  Being a shifter, our blood ran a little hotter, and we could withstand the cold a little better than a regular human. But still, I longed to be inside. Next to a roaring fire, keeping a woman warm in the best way possible, preferably a certain brown-eyed beauty, with silky, smooth, cocoa skin.

  Mulling over possible plans of attack, I pushed open the door to the Sheriff’s station, nodding at Annie, who ran the front desk with intimidating military precision, and strode through to the back, slamming the door behind me.

  John startled, his eyes shooting open, his lanky frame nearly falling back off his chair, where he reclined, feet up on the desk, having a snooze.

  “Didn’t wake you, did I?” I snorted at his comical expression, one of sleepiness chagrin.

  “Nope. Not me. Wasn’t asleep.” He tried for outrage and failed miserably, his youthful face flushed at being caught.

  “If you haven’t noticed, we’re about to have a whiteout. I need people accounted for, so start making calls.” I flicked through the pile of mail on my desk halfheartedly before dropping it all in the trash. That was the part I hated, the bureaucracy of paperwork.

  “Yes, sir!” John replied, tipping me a mock salute and a grin as he bounded from his chair and settled in beside the phone.

  At least Craggstone was small enough that we could account for most people with about twenty phone calls. And most of the people who lived out on the settlements that spanned my small county were shifters, and therefore able to look after themselves. In town, people were all up in each other’s business, working together, living side by side. Tracking them down took no time at all. Which reminded me…

  “Have you met the new lady in town? Amy…dammit! Didn’t get a last name.”

  I must not have come across as casual as I had hoped because John raised an eyebrow at me in question. “Nope. Not yet. Why? Is she a looker?” He looked hopeful at the thought of someone new to flatter and chase, his hand instinctively patting at his fashionably spiked hair.

  I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to pick the guy up and pin him to the wall. That wouldn’t be a smart move.

  “Ah, so she is!” John crowed, then glancing at my clenched fists, he swallowed nervously. “Hey, man, if you’ve laid claim, or something, that’s fine by me!”

  “It’s not like that,” I managed to grind out. How the hell was I supposed to do my job when the urge to mate, to claim Amy as my own, was riding me so hard that I nearly pinned my own deputy, just for asking if she was hot?

  “Okaaay,” John muttered, focusing on the list of names in front of him. He paused, adding, “If she’s new in town, then she’s renting. And I haven’t heard of anyone moving in over at the B&B, so she must be at the motel.” He pulled a face of disgust. “And that’s a hovel. Hope your lady finds somewhere nicer soon.”

  “She’s not my lady.” I murmured the halfhearted denial, wondering why I hadn’t thought of the motel. But I had been distracted. “I’m gonna head out.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll round everyone up. Between Annie and me, we’ve got this covered. You got your cell? Pager?”

  “Yup, updates every half hour. Make that every ten minutes if it gets worse.”

  I headed back out onto the street, the wind immediately freezing my ears, a dusting of snow soaking into my hair.

  I’d forgotten my hat, which meant I had to go back to the bakery.

  I grinned, despite the biting cold, and headed back down the street.

  ***

  Ryan

  Torn between wanting to see Amy again and my duty to the town, I quickly checked the various side streets as I passed, my acute eyesight making it easy to see, even through the thickening fall of snow.

  The town was silent now, muffled by the white that coated the roads and the buildings, everyone sensibly indoors, waiting out worst. My footsteps crunched loudly in my ears, the rhythmic sound matching my breath that puffed out, hot and visible before me.

  A distant sound caught my attention, the yapping of animals playing, snarling and fighting. Swearing under my breath, I changed course, heading up a side street and into the forest. There would be hell to pay when I got ahold of whoever was playing around in this weather.

  Not bothering to mask my footsteps, I stomped through the thick snow, aiming toward the high pitched yaps. Wolf pups, from the sounds of it. Enjoying the snowfall and not worrying about how cold and dark it was going to get.

  Rounding a tall tree, I saw the pair rolling around in a snow bank, their coats soaked and covered in snow. Young, and from the Colstone Pack, I guessed, them being the closest pack to town.

  I opened my mouth to yell at them when a twig snapped to the right of me. The pups didn’t even pause, not hearing in their rambunctious play. Without turning my head, I glanced to the right, searching for whatever had made the sound.

  I picked out a shape, curled up under a fallen tree, bulky with winter coat, hat and gloves. Whoever it was laid perfectly still, the rise and fall of their chest barely indecipherable to the naked eye. They hadn’t seen me, focusing all of their attention on the pups in front of them.

  Someone in trouble? But then I remembered the snap of the twig. Someone spying? But why? The body shifted slightly, and light reflected off something shiny. Glass? I peered closer at the person’s hands. They were clasped tightly around something…black. A gun? My heart lurched in my chest as I deliberately took a step forward, pu
tting myself in the line of sight.

  The pups skidded to a halt, falling to their bellies, thinking they were going to get a telling off, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the person hidden under the tree. What did he have in his hands? It was partially hidden, obscured by his clothing and the foliage….

  “Go home, now,” I hissed at the pups, who took off, scampering across the snow, their tails between their legs.

  Once I was sure they were safely out of harm’s way, I turned, facing the unknown person. “Come out now, slowly. No sudden movements.” I growled, letting my bear flash in my eyes, knowing the silver could be explained, if need be, by the snowstorm.

  The black-clad shape tensed, obviously shocked I had seen the hidey-hole, then slowly started to crawl out.

  From the height and build, it was obviously a child. But a boy or a girl? They were bundled up, refusing to look at me. And clutched in a small hand was an expensive looking camera. One that had been taking pictures of the pups… What if it had caught them shifting? Fuck!

  “Hand the camera over, kid.” I barked the order out, holding out a hand.

  “No.” The word was defiant, and the kid hugged the camera tight.

  A head tilted up, big brown eyes meeting mine. And my world tilted on its axis. The boy stared at me, anxious, yet still defiant, his face nearly an exact replica of his mother’s.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Amy

  I was worried. I paced the motel room for what must be the one-hundredth time. Nope, I was beyond worried—I was frantic. Connie had sent me home because of the storm, telling me to stay inside until it had stopped. She had packed a picnic hamper full of freshly baked bread, pastries, and had added some meats and cheese from her own fridge. Just so I didn’t have to go to the grocery store. I could see Connie being a real friend. Something in her eyes told me that she understood. That when I was ready to talk, she’d be there, that she’d listen.

  I reached the wall and turned, my cell phone gripped tight in my hand. The school had called. They had released all the kids over an hour ago. Luke should have been home by now; he had a key. Where was he? Panic tightened my chest, making it hard to breathe. I forced a deep breath down, sinking to the bed and putting my head between my knees—I couldn’t afford to have another panic attack—not now. I focused on breathing in—one, two, three—then, out—one, two, three—and repeat. The familiar band around my chest started to loosen. That was the first panic attack since—. The band started to tighten again, driven by memories I had locked away, so I ruthlessly slammed that door shut.

  I stared at the phone, willing it to ring. Where was he? He had to be safe, he was all I had left.

  ***

  Ryan

  Sweet Mother of All! I sent the silent message to the goddess of shifters, the one believed to have created us all, twining our animal spirits with our human sides. What did this mean?

  The snow fell in silent blankets around us, the cold forgotten as we stared at each other. She had a child? Did that mean—?

  “Who are you?” the boy asked finally, breaking the silence and disrupting my thoughts.

  He spoke with the same lilting accent as his mother, the vowels polished and properly formed. Not like me, who had a rough edge to my voice—only partially from the bear. Looking closer, I could see that his skin was lighter than hers, his jaw squarer, even though his face hadn’t filled out yet and was still smooth, a good few years away from adulthood. His eyes though—they were all Amy, expressive and deep.

  I realized with a start that I hadn’t answered him, had stood there staring like a fool. “I’m Sheriff Everson, you can call me Ryan if you like. I know your mom?” I made it a question, prodding for information.

  “Mom? She doesn’t know anyone yet. We only got here last night, and I only started school today.” The kid regarded me warily.

  “Met her at the bakery. Looks like you, same eyes, about this tall—” I held a hand at chin height, and the boy nodded, “—called Amy.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like Mom. Why do you want my camera? I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” The kid stuck his chin out, just like his mom had, and the resemblance was unmistakable.

  “Kid—”

  “Luke.” The name was muttered under his breath.

  “Okay, Luke. You can’t be out here, creeping up on wild animals.”

  “I wasn’t creeping! And you can’t tell me what to do!”

  “I’m the Sheriff, which means I can.”

  Luke stamped his foot in the snow, frustration radiating from him. He looked cold, his teeth chattering furiously. “I just want to take pictures, I don’t mean any harm. It’s what I do—take pictures. And now that we’re not in the city anymore, there’s so much more cool stuff to shoot. I mean, did you see that? Wild wolves—right on our doorstep!” He enthusiastically shoved the camera viewpoint at me, thumbing the controls to flick through picture after picture of the pups playing.

  “Not many kids would be happy to find wild animals on their doorsteps,” I said, looking closer at the tiny pictures in fascination. The kid was good! Like, really good. What I knew about photography could be written on a postage stamp, but what he was showing me? Even I could see the potential. He had captured the playful ferocity on that little screen, and in my head, I could hear the sounds that went with the pictures, the snarling and growling, the yipping and whining.

  Luke finished scrolling and pulled the camera back, hugging it to his chest. He blinked snowflakes out of his eyes, the white clinging to long, black lashes.

  “That all of them?” I asked, hoping I didn’t have to take the camera off him. He seemed very attached to it, like a child would hug a security blanket. Or a means of escape from life. My mind latched onto that last thought, spinning, wondering…

  “Yeah…” Fragile hope lit in his eyes, quickly followed by uncertainty. Something in my chest tightened a fraction. This was a kid who was used to disappointment. But surely not from Amy?

  “You can keep it, and them. I won’t make you delete the photos, but—” I cut off his exuberant shout with a stern look, “—I will be having a talk with you, and your mother, about what’s safe to do around here. You’re a city boy. You don’t have the first idea of how to look after yourself out here in the forest.”

  Luke’s face fell. “I can’t help being a city boy. I mean, I didn’t choose to be.”

  I clasped his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Well, you’re not in the city anymore, so if you want to learn all about this—” I gestured the forest around us, “—I’ll help you. But not today. We’ve got to get you home; this storm is coming in quick-fast.”

  Luke trotted next to me as we started out of the forest, back toward Main Street. “There’s more to come?” His eyes widened as he glanced at the sky.

  “Yeah, you’re not in the city anymore. Storms can blow in off the mountains quickly. You staying at the motel?”

  Luke nodded, hunching down into his jacket as the wind nearly knocked him off his feet.

  We turned left, and I grabbed his arm to steady him through the snow. Trying for casual, I added, “Where’s your dad?”

  I couldn’t see Luke’s face, but his I heard his voice wobble. “He’s nowhere. Gone.”

  I tried not to be overjoyed at the news, instead focusing on Luke’s distress. And the obvious question, why was he gone?

  Thumbing my phone out of my pocket, I quickly called in to the station. Relieved to hear that everyone was accounted for, I gave the okay to close up for the day and go home. Shoving the cell back into my pocket, my hands fumbled, nearly dropping the damn thing. We had to get inside, and fast.

  We were nearing the motel, the blizzard around us making it hard to see more than a couple of feet in front. My ears felt like they were going to drop off, and my hands were starting to cramp with cold. Luke’s slight frame was wracked with shivers, and the small amount of skin I could see was frosted white.

  “Which room?” I asked, grabbing him as he
stumbled in deep snow, it coming up to his knees by now.

  “104. At the end,” he bit out, his teeth threatening to cut off his tongue.

  With relief, I pinpointed the room, noting the curtains drawn back and the light on inside, a welcome beacon. Trudging closer, I reached for the handle, only to have the door thrown open wide, warm hands grabbing at us, tugging us over the threshold and into a blessedly warm room.

  Shaking off the worst of the snow at the door, I slammed it shut behind us, watching as Luke was dragged into a tight embrace, snow and all.

  Then Amy looked at me. Her gaze seared into me, lighting a fire that burned away any lingering cold.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, her arms hugging her son tight, her face unreadable.

  ***

  Amy

  I could hardly believe my eyes as two figures stumbled toward the door, the larger one half-dragging the smaller one through the snow. Throwing the door open, I grabbed blindly, pulling them in, the snow swirling and dancing around us and temporarily blinding me, the cold biting viciously at my bare arms and feet.

  Dragging the smaller figure into the room, I ripped off a snow-clad hat. With my heart in my throat, I patted him all over, checking that my baby really was okay, then I pulled him to me, choking back the sobs that threatened to spill over.

  When the snow had started to fall thicker, faster than I had ever seen before, the ground quickly changing into a pillow of white, I had thought I’d lost him. I had never felt so helpless! I hadn’t known where to look, where to go… I had tried to leave, to look for him, but within ten minutes I’d had to turn back, not able to see where I was going, let alone where I was. A mother should never feel so helpless. I had thought I’d be able to look after him, here in the stark beauty of the wild. But maybe I was wrong. I shuddered at the thought of going back to the city, but where else was there to go?

  Remembering the second figure I had dragged inside, I glanced over to the door, where a man stood shaking himself like a dog, snow flying off his coat, his boots, and his thick, blond hair. Hair that was darker now that it was wet, and lay in limp curls plastered to his skull, rather than curling madly around his head. Thick curls that I had wrapped around my fingers earlier this morning.