The Bear Is Back In Town: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Return To Bear Bluff Book 1)

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The Bear Is Back In Town: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Return To Bear Bluff Book 1) Page 5

by Harmony Raines


  Thinking of her mom, she went back to where she had left her, pleased to find her sipping another beer and watching the moon rise.

  “That man of yours has some good ideas.” She passed Steph another beer. “I would sit here all evening in a hot tub. Damn the guests, I think we deserve one of our own.”

  “Maybe in a year or two, when we have some money to call our own,” Steph answered, swigging her beer down and feeling the slight buzz in her brain. “This is the life, though. I missed it in the city.”

  “You won’t need to go back there again,” her mom said. “This is your home now, and you and I make a good team.”

  “Better than the men,” Steph ventured.

  “Better than the men,” her mom repeated.

  “Do you miss them?”

  “A little. A lot. I miss your dad. I loved him, you know. He just got a little mixed up. I’m sure he had something wrong with his brain, that got worse as he got older.”

  “And he’s passed it on to Paul?” Steph asked.

  “I don’t know. I think your dad always indulged Paul a bit too much, and Paul was lazy in a way your dad wasn’t. The two of them together were a nightmare.” She sighed. “But your dad has gone, and goodness knows where Paul is.”

  “Spending all of your money,” Steph said.

  “We’ll make it back.”

  Steph got up and came to her mom, crouching down by the side of her chair and giving her a hug. “I’m so pleased it’s just us.”

  “Won’t be for much longer, though, will it, not when you have Dylan.”

  Steph rested her head on her arm. “I’m not sure. He’s talking about going back to the city, if people in Bear Bluff don’t accept him.”

  “They will accept him. He paid the price for what happened. And anyway, some people in Bear Bluff don’t believe he did it. Or at least they didn’t, at the time.”

  “What? He never said. Why don’t they think he did it? You mean he was protecting someone else?”

  “That is for you to ask him.” Her mom stood and hugged Steph. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Night,” Steph said, settling down with her beer. “We’ll finish the barn tomorrow and start on the house in the afternoon, maybe.”

  “Then you should get to bed too.”

  “I will, once I’ve finished this,” she said, holding her beer up.

  Or maybe she would run over to Dylan’s and ask him what exactly happened the night he supposedly killed Greg Franks.

  Chapter Ten – Dylan

  Dylan went home the long way around, even though he knew his grandpa would be waiting for him. He needed an extra few minutes to get his head straight and stop his heart pumping so hard. Steph affected him in ways he had never known. How could a woman make him want to endure the possible hatred of the town? Because staying in Bear Bluff might mean just that. He had still not ventured into the town itself and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

  What if they took it out on his grandpa, who had good friends here? It would crush him. And Steph and Kitty. What if they couldn’t see their dream to completion because some of the tradespeople they needed wouldn’t work with them, once they found out she was the mate of a murderer?

  He shook his head; he had been watching too many movies. He had to get it over with, and tomorrow he would go into town, maybe take Steph out for dinner. Yes, that sounded like a plan.

  Steering his bike towards home, his stomach rumbled in anticipation of his grandpa’s pie. Then his mouth began to water. He was ready for a nice, big dinner, and then bed. His muscles were aching from the amount of manual labor he had done these last couple of days; it showed him how out of practice he was, although the long motorcycle ride to get to Bear Bluff hadn’t helped.

  One thing he was sure of, after eating dinner, he would shower, fall into bed and sleep better than he had for months. Good, honest, outdoor work always did that to him. He yawned just thinking of his bed. Parking around the side of the cabin, he pulled off his helmet, knowing he really should shower before he ate. Heading into the house, no longer feeling the need to knock, he was hit by the delicious smell of a home-cooked meal.

  “That smells wonderful, Grandpa,” Dylan said.

  “I thought you’d be too late and it would be ruined,” Grandpa said. “I was just about to sit down and eat mine, but it always tastes better with company. And beer.”

  Dylan laughed and went to wash his hands and his face, before sitting down at the kitchen table. Which looked as if it was freshly scrubbed. “I hope you haven’t been overdoing things.” Dylan felt guilty for leaving his grandpa alone all day. “I promised Steph I would help her tomorrow, but then I’ll spend a day here with you.”

  “No, you won’t. You make the most of her.” His grandpa took a drink of his beer and set it down, not taking another mouthful until he said, “Are you planning on staying in Bear Bluff, now you’ve found your mate? Or will you take her back to the city?”

  Dylan sighed. “She likes it here, she and her mom are turning Summerfield Farm into a B&B. I can’t ask her to leave.”

  “Even though it would be for the best?” Grandpa asked.

  “Even though it would be for the best.” Dylan shrugged. “Or maybe everyone has forgotten about what happened, before.”

  “Everyone besides the Franks. They will never let it go.”

  “I’ve done my time,” Dylan said, wishing this conversation had waited until after he had eaten.

  “You have, but that’s not the point, is it?”

  “They never have to know,” he said, taking a drink of his beer, trying to ease the tightness in his throat.

  “Dylan, there’s something you need to know. About Tilly.”

  “What about her?” His stomach churned and he knew he probably was not going to eat any more of his dinner. He had hoped his past would be just that, past, but the look in his grandpa’s eyes told him that was not going to happen, and it was going to affect his life with Steph.

  “She’s been seeing Ron Franks.”

  “Seeing him? You mean they are going out?” he asked.

  “I think it’s more than that.”

  “They are mates?” Dylan asked, incredulous.

  “Fate has a way of twisting things,” Grandpa said. “Eat up.” He pointed his fork at Dylan’s plate. “Starving yourself isn’t going to help any.”

  Dylan ate the rest of his meal and then helped clear everything away, offering to do the dishes, but his grandpa sent him to take a shower instead, for which he was grateful. When he was clean and dry, he put on fresh clothes and went out onto the porch.

  “What an evening.” Dylan looked up at the stars, noting how much brighter they were away from the bright lights of the city. That was one of the many things he had forgotten.

  “I used to love this time of day,” Grandpa said. “Now I watch the sun go down on another day and know I’m one day nearer my grave.”

  Dylan laughed. “As are we all. And I think you will go on for more years than you care to think about.” But despite his words, Dylan looked at the old man next to him and felt afraid too. He didn’t want to go back to the city, and not be here for the man who had raised him.

  A tingling along his neck made him sit up straighter and look around. Was Steph here, had she come to see him? It made him happy to know she couldn’t keep away, and he wondered if his grandpa would mind if he slipped off into the bushes for a moonlit tryst with his love.

  A rustling made him look to his right; she must have circled around. He would have expected her to come from the left, directly down over the mountain. Still, as long as she was here… A movement later, she was coming out of the bushes, and heading towards the cabin. Only it wasn’t Steph; it was Tilly.

  “Trouble,” his grandpa warned.

  “Grandpa, I have to talk to her.” Dylan got up, ready to go and meet her.

  “I’m telling you, Dylan, the best thing you can do is get on that bike of yours and ride back to the life y
ou have built yourself away from here, away from Tilly.”

  “She’s done nothing wrong,” Dylan shot back at the old man.

  “Is that how you see it?”

  “Neither of us did anything wrong. I told you what happened.”

  “And I know you served your time for…” His grandpa got up from his chair. “I’m going inside, and if you have any sense you’ll send her packing before you bring the wrath of Ron Franks down on you. It’s one thing for him to think you killed his brother; it’s another for you to mess with his mate.”

  Tilly came closer, standing in the middle of the track, waiting. He had to speak to her. Had to know she was OK, that what happened had been for the right reasons.

  “Hi, Dylan. I thought it was you on that bike.” She smiled, wary of him. “I’d know you anywhere.”

  “How are you, Tilly?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Good. Really good.” She avoided his eyes, looking past him to his bike. “Why did you come back?”

  “I came to see my grandpa. He’s getting old.”

  No other reason?” She looked at him directly. He could see the fear in her eyes. “What happened… I…”

  “In the past. Forgotten.”

  “I’ll never forget.” She came to him, stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I never got chance to say it properly before…”

  Then she turned and slipped away, and he let out a sigh of relief. It was in the past, for both of them.

  He turned back to the house. The tingling along his spine grew in intensity, and then a bear propelled itself at him, knocking him to the ground. Winded, but unhurt, he looked up to watch the bear shift into Steph.

  “Don’t bother coming to the farm tomorrow. I don’t need your help.”

  “What?” he asked. “Steph. You don’t understand.”

  “Old flame, is she?”

  “No! Nothing like that.”

  “So why did she kiss you?”

  “Because… To say hello.” He couldn’t tell her, he had sworn to keep a secret, but this was his mate.

  “Liar! I can tell you are hiding something.”

  “Steph, it’s nothing. Please…” If he told her the truth, everything he had done, all the sacrifices he had made would have been for nothing. But he couldn’t risk losing her. “Steph, you have to trust me.”

  She got off him and stalked away. “Leave me alone, Dylan. I need time to think.”

  With that she shifted into her bear, and like a shadow, she was gone.

  Chapter Eleven – Steph

  She was pissed, of course she was, but probably for the wrong reason. When Steph saw Dylan with that young woman, Tilly, she was jealous, a deep-seated jealousy that was like a wound in her heart. Her memory dredged up the vision of Tilly hugging Dylan as he was taken away ten years ago. She’d figured they were going out; it had stuck in her mind how sad that must be, to watch the person you were in love with leave, not through choice, but because he had done something wrong. To the young, teenage Steph, it had seemed impossibly romantic, like Romeo and Juliet.

  Dylan had taken her arms from around his neck, and gently shoved her away, telling her it was OK.

  But Steph was his mate, and that was in the past. She had overreacted. Tell that to her heaving lungs, and her raging heart. She stopped, leaning against a tree. It had just been one peck on the cheek.

  It wasn’t the kiss. It was the lie. That was where her anger lay. In a truth he shared with Tilly that he would not share with her, the most important person in his life.

  With a roar, she shifted into her bear, running through the night until exhaustion took her and she slept underneath the stars, until the early sun woke her and she went home. Men. She had work to do. Nails to buy, and a barn to finish.

  “You look … different, this morning,” her mom said, as Steph poured more coffee.

  “I had a bad night.” She drank the too-hot coffee, placed the cup on the rack, and then said, “I have to get to the hardware store.”

  “Not waiting for Dylan?”

  “He’s not coming over today. I can manage on my own.” She made for the door, but her mom caught her arm, and pulled her back to face her.

  “Hey, lady, you owe me more than that as an explanation. What happened? Yesterday everything was all sunshine and rainbows…”

  “And today it’s not.” Steph looked away from her mom’s face, avoiding the look she didn’t need to see. “I need a little time.”

  “Cold feet?” her mom asked.

  “No!” Steph insisted strongly. “I saw him with Tilly … what’s her name. You know, flaming red hair.”

  “I know the one. Timid little thing.”

  “Opposite of me,” Steph said. “Maybe she’s more Dylan’s type.”

  Her mom nearly sprayed her coffee across the kitchen. “You’re jealous! Listen, Stephanie, he is your mate. I saw the way you two worked together yesterday, you are perfect for each other.”

  “Then why were they meeting up in the dark like that outside his house? If they were just friends, why not tell me?”

  “Maybe because she is going out with that Ron Franks.”

  “Ron Franks. He’s a bear, right? You think they are mates?”

  “I don’t know. Or maybe she likes the Franks boys; she was hanging out with the older one who … died.”

  “The one Dylan killed?” Steph asked.

  Her mom hesitated. “That’s the one.” She sighed. “If I was you, instead of worrying about being jealous, I would be making sure your Dylan doesn’t get stuck between Tilly and another Franks boy.”

  “Damn it, why do you always talk such good sense?” She kissed her mom, grabbed the keys, and was running to the truck, praying it would start, while her mom leaned against the doorjamb, and sipped her coffee.

  “Don’t do anything reckless!”

  “I won’t!” The truck burst into life, and she put it into drive.

  Out onto the road, she turned and headed towards Dylan’s grandpa’s cabin, hoping to catch him there. If not, maybe Grandpa would know where he was. She hoped he hadn’t decided to take her at her word and give her too much time and space. What if he had gone back to the city, back to his old life without her?

  And breathe, she told herself. She took a deep breath. She was being stupid, he wouldn’t leave her, he couldn’t leave her. Could he?

  So preoccupied with these thoughts, she nearly missed the glint of sunlight on chrome. A bright flash in her peripheral vision made her look. Her heart went cold, filled with dread. There was a motorbike on its side amongst the trees to her left. She stopped the truck, its tires squealing, complaining as she asked too much of it. As it shuddered to a stop, she flung the door open, praying it wasn’t his bike, hoping if it was, he wasn’t dead.

  “Dylan,” she called hoarsely, her throat constricted in panic. She coughed, and then called louder. “Dylan! Are you there?”

  Nothing. She ducked down under the trees, seeing the bike and knowing it was his. Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away; this was no time for tears, Dylan needed her, her mate needed her.

  “Dylan.” Then she saw him, face down in the dirt. “No, no, no.” She ran to him, and knelt by his side, unable to tell if he was breathing. Carefully, she placed her hand on his back, and felt the rise and fall of his chest under her hand. The relief was immense.

  Carefully, she checked his airways, and turned him into the recovery position, noting the cut above his eyes, and that his lip was swollen. Placing his hand on the ground, she saw there were no defensive wounds on him. He had let someone do this to him.

  “Oh, Dylan.” She stroked his face, and saw him twitch. Bending down, very carefully, she kissed his mouth, breathing his name. “Dylan. Wake up, it’s time to wake up.”

  “It’s much better when I’m unconscious,” he said. “It doesn’t hurt so much.”

  “What the hell happened?” she asked, pressing her hand on his chest when he made to sit up.
“Take it slow.”

  “Slow is all I can manage,” he said. “I think I have a broken rib.”

  “Anything to get out of work,” she said. “There, let me help you.”

  “Burgh. Ouch. OK, that stings.”

  “We need to get you to a hospital.” She helped him to his feet, and then supported his weight as much as she could as they walked to the truck.

  “No hospital,” he said.

  “Why not? I can call the police from there.”

  “No police.”

  She nearly dumped him on the road. “You can’t let someone get away with this.”

  “Steph, just take me to my grandpa’s, please.”

  “And then you’ll explain?” she asked, somehow dragging the truck door open and getting him into the passenger seat. Until she tried to lug a beast of a man into a truck, she didn’t realize how high the seat was. With aching arms, she did the seatbelt up, and then started the truck, praying it would get them to his grandpa’s. And that once they were there, he would give her the information she needed.

  After a long ten minutes of uncomfortable silence, when Dylan managed nothing but a few groans, and not much else, they reached the small cabin. As the truck bumped up the drive, she tried not to conjure up the image of Tilly, standing on tiptoes and kissing Dylan the night before.

  At the sound of the truck, Dylan’s grandpa appeared, and came out to meet her. She steered the truck as close to the cabin as she could, so Dylan would not have to walk too far. She didn’t think she could carry him if his legs failed him, and his grandpa was looking frail.

  “Hello there. Can I help you? Stephanie, isn’t it? Dylan’s told me all about you.”

  “Hi. Yes. Well… I have Dylan in the truck.”

  “He hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  “Come off that bike? I always knew he would sooner or later.”

  “I don’t think it was an accident,” Steph said. “He was run off the road.”

  “What?” Grandpa pulled open the passenger door, and his thin face paled. “What the hell! I told you when she came sniffing around here it would end in trouble.”

 

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