Bear in a Bakery

by Liz Paffel

  Oh no. Bad day... this was turning into a very bad day.

  “Everything. Is. Soaked clear through.” Her voice was thick and broken.

  Despite the counter being between them, he took a step back. Women’s tears were not his forte. He avoided female emotions at all costs, unless it was lust. That he welcomed with open arms.

  “Yeah, that, uh, that sucks.”

  Her gaze steeled to his and her voice firmed up. “Yeah.”

  He took another little step back as she narrowed her eyes and came through the half door to stand beside him. He could pick her up with one arm and carry her around like a curvy little doll, but the look on her face scared the hell out of him. Bear shifter or not, being on the receiving end of a woman’s emotional roll was not his idea of a good time.

  “You know what else sucks? Having to send all my employees home and close my bakery for a week. Losing profits sucks. And now the something made the sprinklers turn on...”

  “A raccoon.”

  She blinked. He smiled. Well, that shut her up.

  “Wh-what?”

  Dax wiped stray drips of water from his face. His bear had smelled the offending rodent before he saw it. The animal inside had him churned around, begging to be let out like a dog itching to chase a squirrel up a tree.

  “It’s a mammal. Grey-ish, black, and white. Looks like it’s wearing a cute little burglar mask. Probably ate through a wire and caused the sprinklers to default.”

  She cocked her head, exposing the length of her creamy white neck. “You’re goddamned adorable, aren’t you? Get out.”

  All that curly, wavy mess of hair fell over one shoulder and he had the strongest urge to run his fingers through it and pull her pink lips to his. The flash of anger in her eyes made his cock stir. Well, hello lust. Nice of you to wake up now. How could he help it? Between her kissable lips and temper, he was almost beside himself.

  “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

  “Seriously.” she sighed. “Animal control just plucked two out of here the other day.”

  Her teeth were even and white, with one eye tooth that jutted forward with a little sass. She had the kind of skin that glowed like she’d spent hours doing whatever women did to get that effect. He wanted to cup her jaw and run his thumbs over the smooth rise of her cheeks, feel all that satiny skin under his fingers.

  With a mental shake, Dax drew himself back to the moment.

  “I saw one climbing out of your little attic window before I came in.”

  She slumped against the counter, one hip braced at the edge. Dax slowly ran the towel over his hair. His clothes were starting to cling, and thank all the gods, so were hers. Humidity was taking over, creating a stifling atmosphere. They needed to get some windows open and fans going. With that thought, he looked around the room, easily spotting the reason he’d been called here. She wasn’t kidding; the critters had done a number on the place. She’d mentioned being closed a few days. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it might be longer than that.

  “This is a historic building,” she mumbled. Dax focused his sharp hearing to better pick up her low tone. “I paid a mint for this place so it wouldn’t get torn down. It was fine, fine, when I bought it! I mean, besides the electrical fire.”

  Dax ran the towel down his forearms. She looked at him then, followed the movement of the towel.

  “Electrical fire?” He prompted.

  She ran her top teeth over her lower lip as he dragged the towel up his bicep. His sleeve went up with it, baring flesh and muscle. “Uh, yeah... and the explosion.”

  Dax moved to his other arm with a little grin. She was completely transfixed on what he was doing, and he loved it. Nothing wrong with some female appreciation, even if she did seem like a handful.

  “Explosion.”

  “Mmm-hmm. It was minor, unlike the drug bust.”

  He dropped the towel. She drew back, her eyes snapping up to his like he’d broken some trance. Dax shook his head.

  “Drug bust?”

  With a sigh, she untied the apron and whipped it over her head. Motioning above the front windows, she then crossed her arms.

  “Is that mold?” Her eyes went wide, her mouth parting. “I keep an immaculate kitchen. You could lick the floor and still kiss your mama, I swear.”

  Dax grinned. “I’m not the health department, sweetheart.”

  “Who are you?”

  Your mate.

  The words slammed into Dax’s mind and scurried off, but not without stunning him. All his family’s warnings about him having one last chance to take a mate were clouding his psyche, that’s all. How many times can a guy hear his father hollering, “You’re going to die, cub-less and alone!” before his brain starts putting that shit on repeat?

  Yes, he needed a mate. No, he wasn’t in a hurry to find one. Except that he had one week to find a mate or his biological ability to produce cubs, and his epic virility, would be gone. His clock was literally ticking away and yet, he had no huge sense of urgency to do anything about it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get himself to care that he’d be cub-less and alone. He’d do what he wanted, thank you.

  Extending a hand, he didn’t wait for the woman to take it. He took hers instead. “Dax Mitchell, your contractor, Ms. Rowe.”

  She didn’t pull away as he expected. And he was glad. Her hand was small and warm in his. The press of her soft skin against his palm drove electric sparks up his arm. Without pre-thought, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, once, twice. Never actually shaking her hand, just holding it.

  “I didn’t hire you.”

  She looked up at him, her fingers moving softly against his palm. Dax took a step closer. He was tall enough that he could easily curl around her, envelope her body in his. Protect her.

  “Look around. You really want to let me go?”

  The thought of leaving drummed up an uneasy feeling. Her eyes searched his and he had the impression she was considering booting him out the door. He knew a hopeless expression when he saw one and it was splashed all over her tantalizing face.

  “What’s the point? I have raccoons, mold, and probably water damage now. The list keeps growing.”

  The flatness of Allie’s tone made it seem as if she were talking about something beyond just getting this place fixed. He vaguely remembered something she’d said about a Loser Allie List as he’d walked in. Sounded like a woman being way too hard on herself. Or... someone else being hard on her. The protective surge blossomed in his breast again.

  “Hey, it’s nothing I can’t fix.”

  Allie pulled away then and his hand felt immediately empty. She went behind the counter to the doors that lead to the back. “Look, I can’t afford you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to call a few friends to help me dry this place out.”

  Well, fuck. She was kicking him out. She pushed the doors and was almost through when he called her name. She paused but didn’t turn around.

  “Allie, we’ll work something out.”

  He meant it. The urge to help her, no the need, was all-consuming and confusing and damn it, he didn’t need this complication right now. The mating ceremony was next week, something he had to endure and possibly use to find a mate. Life was a tangled mess and Allie Rowe was going to be a rose branch with thorns to make it worse.

  She gave him a quick backward glance. “Get your tight, wet shirt and sexy muscles out of here. I’ll get a few friends to help me dry this place out, and you stop by about eight tomorrow morning and we’ll talk.”

  Oooh, the sass was back.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Damn right,” she said, and disappeared behind the doors with a sway of her hips he’d be thinking about all fucking night.

  Chapter Three

  Getting a few friends in to help dry out the bakery turned out to be unnecessary after a three-person restoration crew showed up a couple of hours after Dax left. When she’d tried to protest that she hadn’t hired them,
she was given a receipt that showed the service was paid in full. Anonymously. By late afternoon, they had everything moved, aired out, dried and put back together. They’d left three big fans running with the promise to be back to get them. Luckily, all the commotion hadn’t produced any new raccoons.

  When she’d returned to Sticky Sweet this morning, the atmosphere felt better inside. Spirits a bit lifted, she decided to do a little baking. More from desire than necessity at this point.

  Allie wiped her forehead on her sleeve to get rid of the flour dust tickling her face, and then put all her frustration into rolling out cookie dough.

  There was no question that Dax Mitchell was behind hiring and paying for the restoration crew. As grateful as she was, all Allie could see was dollar signs. And a fair amount of red. She’d never authorized him to send anyone over. It occurred to her that she didn’t even have his number so she could call and chew his ass.

  What a nice ass it would be to chew on.

  She flushed all over just thinking about Dax’s huge body taking up the entire doorframe. He’d been a delicious mix of arrogant sassiness and sweetness, and hot! Lord was that man hot.

  Her experience with shifters was limited to her relationship with Blake. Except for their size, it was almost impossible to tell a shifter from a regular human at first glance. For the most part, they kept to their own, preferring to mingle among their own communities in the mountainous area. The shifter men from the Estes Park pack seemed so cocky and full of themselves—all proud of their muscles and alpha swagger, trying to impress her as she filled white bakery bags with cookies and rolls.

  Her upper lip curled. Then again, the human men she’d dated had all turned out to be wrong too.

  Dax might have one big selling point though. No way would that man have a small dick.

  Her face went hot. She looked around as if her friend Becks could have heard her thoughts, but she was asleep on a stool in the corner in true narcoleptic fashion.

  Allie squirmed a little and wiped a hand over her forehead. She’d had some crazy reaction to the man, for sure. All it took was his eyes on her and her latent sex drive, came alive. Wrap her legs around that man’s tasty hips and grind herself into oblivion? Yes, please!

  “What’s that look on your face?”

  Her dad turned with a large metal tray in his oven-mitted hands. She, Becks, and her dad had come in at five a.m. to start cleaning, but Becks’ narcolepsy medications had been recently changed and her need for a nap found her on the stool with her head in her hands. Allie pulled her dad into the back to help make a few dozen cookies and some other treats. What good was a bakery without sweets? Even a ruined bakery closed to customers had to be filled with a tantalizing aroma, if nothing else, to remind Allie why she put so much of her heart and soul into this place.

  She inspected the sheet of chocolate chip toffee cookies before indicating he should put them on the racks. He couldn’t bake to save his life, but he was a great right-hand man.

  “That look would be consternation over how to pay the contractor you hired.”

  Ben smiled wide. “Ah, nice young man, huh? So brawny.”

  She chuckled. Brawny, yes. Yes, yes, yes. “He’s a shifter, dad. They’re usually pretty brawny. And you know how I feel about them.”

  “One bitter cup of coffee doesn’t mean every cup will be nasty.” Her dad returned to the commercial oven for another tray of cookies. “He’s single too. I asked. My radar isn’t bad this time, sweetheart; I promise.”

  She rolled her eyes. Always optimistic about her love life, her dad wasn’t shy about steering her toward men he thought were suitable. Too bad his taste sucked.

  “Speaking of single and bad radar, Marybeth is in heat and getting a little aggressive about it.” She side-eyed Ben, whose smile had fallen into a worried expression she hadn’t seen where Marybeth was concerned before. She was an annoyance, but maybe more?

  Ben silently filled the cookie racks and Allie turned back to the tray of sticky buns she’d made earlier. A few minutes of silence passed, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Something I should know about Marybeth, dad?”

  “Not really. She found me after the sprinkler incident yesterday and filled my ears with her high-pitched, hurt-your-head voice. You know the one, “Benjamin Rowe, your daughter tried to drown me after I offered her my business and I might just have to ask for damages to replace my blouse because of the water damage. It’s three-hundred dollars, ruined.”

  “Three hundred dollars,” Allie gushed in disbelief. Marybeth’s late husband had left her way too much money.

  “She made me a deal.” Ben’s voice was heavy with regret. “I took it to save you from having to pay up. And, she promised to still place an order for her party.”

  Allie wiped her hands on her apron and turned to her dad with a furrowed brow. “Tell me you didn’t make a deal with that troll.”

  The oven timers dinged, and Ben turned to take out the baking sheets.

  “It’s nothing serious. I’ll just escort her to the party, that’s all.” Before she could argue, he held up a hand and gave her his stern look, which was more sympathetic puppy than firm father. “She also promised not to sue, whatever that means.”

  “It’s her classic threat. You know that.”

  Rustling from the corner said Becks had roused from her nap. The stool wiggled as she bolted from leaning against the counter to sitting. “I’m here,” she announced groggily as if she’d just arrived. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around with narrowed eyes. “Wait, how did I get here?”

  Allie ruffled her friend’s dark brown hair. “You spent the night at my house and I drove here, you lunatic. I don’t think these new meds are working for you, honey.”

  Ben nodded in agreement just as a knock came from the front door. Allie looked at the overhead clock. It was just after six a.m. and she hadn’t yet opened the front door. Quickly wiping her hands with a towel, she headed to the front of the bakery. The familiar click and pop of the front door lock being turned stopped her in her tracks.

  Chills raced down her arms as she hurriedly turned on the light switch and flooded the area in golden light.

  Dax groaned and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Allie demanded. Her heart jumped, but it wasn’t from being startled. Dax’s huge arms were bare, the gray tee shirt he wore cut off at the sleeves and clinging to his chest. No water required this time to mold it to his perfect body. His blonde hair was tucked behind his ears, the ends curling at the base of his neck.

  He held up a single key on a ring and spun it around his finger. “Your dad gave me this so I could start as early as I like.”

  “Oh, wonderful.”

  He grinned wide, showing off the divot in the center of his chin. “Something smells really good.”

  Allie cocked one side of her mouth. “That would be the scent of my despair.”

  “Your despair smells exactly like chocolate chip cookies.”

  Dax made a slow saunter around the room, perusing the space with a practiced eye. Jeans clung to the round rise of his ass and gripped the length of powerful thighs. Shifters might be cocky asshats, but she couldn’t deny this one was sexy as hell.

  “Remember what I said about staring?”

  Dax’s voice startled her. Allie’s face heated as he gave her a slow glance over his shoulders. She wet her lips and squared her shoulders. Her fingers actually itched caress the rise of his ass.

  “Add it to my tab, I suppose. Seems the bill’s already getting high, thanks to the restoration crew you sent over.”

  He nodded, pleased. And completely ignoring her sarcasm. “They did a nice job. It looks very dry in here.”

  Rolling her eyes, Allie turned to go into the back. She needed to keep her interactions with Dax to a minimum. The pulse in her temple was pounding and her chest was tight with irritation. She was doing everything possible to ignore the needy ache be
tween her legs.

  Ben looked at her in question when she resumed her spot at the counter and picked up a rolling pin.

  “Contractor is here,” she muttered, and began rolling the last of the almond sugar cookies. “We need to finish up these cookies and get busy tidying up the store.”

  “Oh, good. I told him to come as early as he liked. Gave him a key.”

  “Let’s just finish up here, okay?” A thought popped into her mind. “When did you see Dax to give him the key?”

  “We had a beer together at the Wild last night. Nice young man. He’s, uh, single.”

  Allie set the rolling pin down a little too hard. “I know, you already told me. Maybe you should date him.”

  “Sorry, I’m not into dudes.”

  Dax walked close to the butcherblock counter where she was working, so silent that he could have been standing there this entire time and she wouldn’t have known. He nodded to her father in that bromance way guys had, and her dad nodded back as if he were forty years younger and wearing his ballcap backwards. Her skin began to heat, her nerves becoming a chaotic mess as Dax stood beside her.

  Becks opened her eyes from the chair she was slouched in, blinked. Blinked again and then raised her hand. “I’ll date him.”

  Ben snickered. “Honey, you can’t stay awake long enough to handle a man like this.”

  “Dad!” Allie cried.

  “I’m up for it. Allie, make some strong coffee and go get an illegal Ritalin from that kid down the street.” Becks moved to slip off her chair but Allie stopped her with an amused wave. Her friend’s seizure disorder and narcolepsy might technically render her, ‘disabled,’ but Becks took her illnesses in stride with good humor.

  Dax turned to Allie, and everyone else in the room seemed to disappear.

  “Want to give me a tour so I can check out the plumbing, electrical systems and the general layout?”

  Breaking from his gaze, she cut the dough with a flower-shaped cookie cutter, not bothering to look at him. “Dad can show you.”