Bear Guard

by Zoe Chant

  The real thing was nothing like her fantasies had been. But all the same, this was not a dream. This was real—which made it better than any meeting she’d ever fantasized about.

  Her father gave her a guilty look. His hair was disheveled, but there were no wounds she could see. The second hitman hadn’t had a chance against an entire group of bears, plus a lone and very protective wolf.

  Carrie felt a smile spreading over her face. “I’m so glad you came. Come in. Please.”

  It was a little strange to settle down on a sofa, facing the man who was her father. But Darrell was reassuringly warm by her side. He still smelled of dust and sweat, but she didn’t mind at all. He smelled like Darrell—like the proud, protective bear who’d jumped in front of her when a hitman had aimed a gun at her. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather have by her side for the rest of her life.

  “I want to know all about my mother,” Carrie then said. “And all about you. Even if it’s not much—please. I’ve spent my entire life wondering...”

  The werewolf hesitated for a long moment, his face unreadable as he stared at her.

  At last, something inside him seemed to give. His face twisted into a mask of grief as he half turned away from her, his hand coming up to cover his face.

  “What I wouldn’t do to change the past,” he said, his voice breaking. “Would give my own life to give her back to you...”

  Then he took a deep breath, straightening before Carrie could even reach out to offer comfort.

  He reached into a pocket. A moment later, he held out a small rectangle of paper.

  “The photo,” Carrie breathed, remembering when he’d desperately held it out to her while Glory attacked.

  This time, there was no glass door between them.

  Her fingers trembled slightly as she took hold of the picture. Her breath caught in her throat when she found herself looking at a face that was utterly unfamiliar to her—and that was nevertheless someone she instinctively knew.

  She couldn’t even say how—it wasn’t quite like looking at a picture of herself.

  The woman looking at her had short, curly hair that fell in little ringlets just past her ears. It had been bleached; Carrie could see the dark roots that showed. But all the same, something about the shape of her eyes was unsettlingly familiar. Something about the way her cheekbones slanted, and the way her cheeks dimpled as she smiled at the camera...

  My face does that too, Carrie thought in wonder, tracing the photo with a shaking fingertip. That’s how I look like when I smile...

  The woman was holding a toddler. And there, Carrie could see the resemblance as well. It was harder—but something about the shape of the face was familiar.

  That jaw, and those cheeks...

  “That’s my mother,” Carrie said, swallowing back sudden tears. “That’s my mother and me.”

  Her father nodded.

  “Thought you should have it.” He made a helpless gesture. “Took a lot of work, but when I realized who you were, I didn’t stop until I’d finally found someone who’d known her back then. Her landlady. She had no idea of what happened to you, of course—I made up some story, and she handed the picture to me. It’s yours now. If you want it, that is.”

  He looked suddenly shy, for all that he had the looks of a retired marine. His shoulders were tense, as though he wanted to reach out to her but didn’t know how.

  A moment later, Carrie was in his arms. He made a surprised sound, but when she wrapped her arms around him, he relaxed—and a heartbeat later, she was enveloped by strong arms as he hugged her tightly.

  “My girl,” he said, his voice rough with tears. “Damn. I know I’m a shit dad, and I won’t even try to apologize for all the ways I’ve fucked up your life, but—”

  “Hush,” Carrie said, laughing through her own tears. “I don’t want to hear that again. You came. You came for me. You risked your own life to protect me, even though you didn’t know me. That makes you the best dad I can imagine.”

  “If you don’t mind,” he said hesitantly when they’d finally parted, “I’d like to stick around for a bit. I’m not going to intrude—I know it’s bear land and all that—but I’d like to visit every now and then. If you don’t mind.”

  Carrie laughed again, wiping the remaining tears from her face. “You’d better! I’ve only just found you, do you think I’m going to let you go so quickly?”

  “And there won’t be a problem with visiting Linden Creek. Or even moving there,” Darrell offered. “It’s bear land—but you’re family now.”

  Tom released another rough laugh. “Not one to settle down, me,” he said, although he looked wistful as he watched Carrie. “Still... might have to lie low for a good long while now. I wanted out of that life anyway, and I botched up that job something good. Mob won’t be happy with me.”

  “But they don’t know you’re a werewolf, right?” Darrell asked.

  “Nah.” Tom shook his head. “I got that job the usual way. Knew a man who knows a man.”

  “So the only one who’ll be upset with you for that job will be—let me guess. Some other werewolf? Wait... Are you one of White Paw’s men?” Darrell asked.

  Carrie narrowed her eyes as she looked from Darrell to her father. Darrell had told her that his own past hadn’t been very happy. But that also meant that if Darrell had managed to find a new, happy life in Linden Creek, then surely so could her father.

  At the sound of the name, Tom had straightened, giving Darrell an intense look. “What if I am?” he asked slowly.

  Darrell grinned. “Beat up your pack something good, around eight years ago. Some quarrel over a city in the north, near Black Moon Forest...”

  “Oh shit,” Tom said with feeling. “You’re one of Iron Fang’s men?”

  “Was,” Darrell corrected, giving Tom a wide grin. “Half the clan in Linden Creek was. We were fed up with that sort of life—what’s the use in spending your entire life fighting for an alpha who cares only about his money and power, and not about his clan? It’s not like that in Linden Creek.”

  “No,” Tom said thoughtfully. “No. I’ve seen that. And if you ran from that sort of life, then maybe I wouldn’t be an intruder bringing danger into your homes...”

  “You’re family now,” Darrell repeated firmly.

  Carrie rested a hand on Darrell’s arm, warmth filling her. “And we’d be very, very happy if you’d settle in Linden Creek for a while. At least until all of this has blown over.”

  “And even if you want to leave after that, you’ll always be welcome to visit,” Darrell added.

  Tom looked at them from wide eyes. For once, there was something strangely vulnerable in his weathered face, the usual steely confidence wiped away to show a soft, tentative hope beneath.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “Never thought I’d have a family...”

  “You’ll give it a try then?” Carrie beamed at him, still holding the photo tightly in her hand.

  Tom laughed, the sound rough and low, and full of surprised tenderness. “Yeah, I’ll give it a try. Seems it’s time for old Tom to learn how to be a dad.”

  ***

  After all the excitement that had descended onto the small farm, Lily had tried to convince them to spend the night. But now that everything finally seemed settled, Carrie wanted to return to the small town that already felt as familiar as her old hometown.

  “We’ll come visit,” she promised, hugging Lily tightly. “And if you ever have a mouse problem, you know who to call.”

  Lily laughed softly, holding on to her for a long moment. “You take good care of yourself now, do you hear me? I don’t want to hear any more tales of hitmen after you.”

  Carrie grimaced as she drew back. “I know. I’ve got to be more careful with any future bosses. That’s going to be my first question in an interview. Any connections to the mob? I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

  She and Lily giggled while Logan and Darrell watched
in amusement.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Logan then said. “Hit up my brother when you’re back in town. His secretary’s been making noises about retirement for the past few months. She’s got grandkids in Florida and would like to live closer to them. And I can vouch for Chris. No connections to the mob that I know of.”

  Carrie tilted her head, considering. A police station... It sounded like an adventure. And most importantly, she’d get to be around people all day.

  “I warn you,” Darrell said with a grin. “It rarely gets as exciting as this. Most of the times, you’ll chat to old Mrs. Bosman because her dachshund is missing again.”

  “Ha!” Carrie grinned back. “I’ll happily take that over hired killers any day. Do they have anyone who does their social media?”

  Darrell looked taken aback. “Is that a thing?”

  “It most certainly is!” Carrie gave Darrell an amused look. “You know, a Linden Creek police Twitter account? Where you’d tweet a picture of a cute little dog and ask Has anyone seen this dog?”

  Lily clapped her hands. “Definitely chat up Chris. That sounds perfect! He’d be lucky to have you—and the town is, too.”

  After they’d finished their goodbyes, the conversation left Carrie with lots to think about on the drive back home.

  Home. How strange... I’m already thinking of it like that.

  “Where are we going?” she asked when Darrell took an exit instead of heading on straight into Linden Creek.

  “You’ve still got that cabin rented.” He winked at her. “Forgot about that? Your boss paid in advance, and given that he tried to have you killed, I think you should make good use of the money he spent on you.”

  “Oh,” Carrie said with mounting excitement. “And you’re staying with me, right? The cabin looked big enough for a family on the pictures.”

  “It’s got a nice, king-sized bed,” Darrell said, his voice a sexy growl that made Carrie’s stomach twist with sudden need. “I’ve got a small cabin myself, but it’s further away from the lake. Not that you're not welcome to it—everything that is mine is yours. I just thought we could spend a week or so taking walks along the lake. See if there’s a spot you especially like.”

  “For—a picnic?” Carrie asked, not quite sure what he was hinting at.

  Darrell laughed out loud. “Well, maybe that, too! But now that I’ve found my mate, I think the two of us will eventually need more space than one of the cabins. They’re very nice—but they’re only meant to be vacation homes. And I always wanted to have a house with a huge kitchen, a fireplace, and a patio where an entire horde of grandkids can run around in a few decades.”

  “And a bedroom with a small balcony to watch the sunrise,” Carrie murmured, already seeing the house in front of her eyes.

  Wood painted white, a living room with a fireplace and lots of comfy sofas so they could have all their friends over with their kids. And flowers. Red and blue and yellow flowers surrounding the house and the driveway. And in front of their bedroom balcony, a cherry tree that would flower in spring...

  “And a garden,” she added, giving Darrell a soft smile. “With herbs for cooking, and giant, orange pumpkins in fall.”

  “It’ll be the first real home I have,” Darrell said, his voice suddenly hoarse. “A real family home.”

  Carrie reached out and rested her hand on his thigh. Even through the fabric of his jeans, she could feel the reassuring warmth of his skin.

  “A real home,” she agreed softly. “Our home.”

  ***

  The cabin her boss had rented for her stood at the shore of the lake. It was surrounded by fir trees on three sides, and had a patio facing the lake. There was also a small pier, with a little rowboat tied to it. And while the shore seemed to consist mostly of rocks at this stretch of the lake, there was a tiny, private beach in the space between two large, weatherworn boulders. It offered just enough sand that four or five people could sunbathe there.

  “Hungry?” Darrell asked when they stepped out of the car.

  Carrie slowly shook her head.

  “Restless,” she said, listening to that new, inner part of her that was slowly becoming more familiar. “I think my cat would be satisfied if I go for a swim now. I’ll let her explore the forest tomorrow.”

  With a grin, Darrell let their bag fall to the ground. Then his hands gripped his shirt, pulling it off in one smooth move to display the flexing, rock-hard muscles of his stomach. “A swim it is. Race you to the water!”

  “Hey! Not fair!” Carrie protested playfully, belatedly reaching for her own shirt.

  Darrell made it to the shoreline before she’d even managed to wriggle out of her shirt, but that didn’t matter.

  She felt like she was the real winner here, because it meant she had all the more time to admire his tanned, muscular body now exposed to her view. His muscles flexed as he bent to pull off his jeans, and an instinctive, soft sound of need escaped Carrie when she saw that he was already hard.

  His eyes were dark with need as he watched her—but even so, he took a teasing step backwards just before she’d reached him, his feet touching the water.

  “I won,” he murmured with a sexy growl, holding out a hand for her.

  “No. I win,” Carrie said boldly. She unhooked her bra and shimmied out of her skirt and panties, enjoying the way Darrell’s eyes widened as he brazenly stared.

  No one had ever looked at her the way he did—not just with desire, but as though he wanted to eat her up and hold her close and never, ever let her go.

  That’s exactly what I want, he said through the bond, the silent words vibrating with his overwhelming need for her.

  She wanted him too. She was wet, her body throbbing with arousal, remembering what it had felt like to truly become one with her mate, the man who knew her best out of all the people in the world.

  Even now, the surge of the powerful connection between them made her tremble with awe.

  She took a step forward, giving in to the pull between them—and at the same time, Darrell took a step backward, giving her a wicked grin.

  “Come to me, my mate,” he whispered huskily. “Let me love you.”

  He didn’t stop until they were hip-deep in the water. The lake was refreshing after the heat of the day, but she barely felt the coolness of the water. She only had eyes for Darrell, who now, at last, stopped moving and reached out for her.

  And then, finally, they were together, skin to skin, love and lust pulsating through the mate bond as they kissed, carried by the water. For long minutes, they drifted, clutching at each other as the gentle breeze caused small waves to lap at them. Against her thigh, she could feel Darrell’s erection. He was as hard as steel, and shockingly hot compared to the water.

  “Here, hold on,” he murmured, breaking the kiss for a moment. He grabbed hold of her hips, pulling her even closer—and at last she understood what he wanted, wrapping her legs around his waist. His arms came around her neck, and then she was held, weightless in the water, pressed against him, complete—except for one thing.

  Between her legs, her clit throbbed eagerly. Despite the coolness of the water, her skin felt hot.

  “Darrell,” she gasped against his lips.

  In answer, his hand slid over her heated skin, his fingers teasing at her wet folds.

  “Close your eyes,” he murmured throatily. “Relax. Just relax.”

  With a shiver of pure need, she followed his instruction.

  The pad of his finger rubbed at her clit, very gently, but even so it made her body clench with need.

  With her eyes closed, she couldn’t see. She could only experience. She could hear the sound of the wind, and the distant chirping of birds in the forest. She could hear the sound of his own fast breathing. Against her skin, cold water lapped, and then Darrell’s hot skin slid against hers, warming her.

  His hands and the water were holding her. She was floating, weightless. Safe.

  She was held. She
was with her mate. It was like flying.

  Now his finger slid inside her, and a moan escaped her. He was so slow and gentle that she thought she’d die. She needed him so much that she didn’t think she could bear it not to have him, all of him, right now and here—but he’d asked her to trust him, and so she did, relaxing into the experience.

  A second finger followed. Then they shifted inside her, easily sliding in and out. It felt so good she wanted to cry, so slow and gentle, and yet so overwhelming in the way he took possession of her, making every single nerve of her body quiver with pleasure.

  With her eyes closed, all she could see was the faint glow of the bond, steadily gaining in intensity as she moaned and throbbed around her mate’s gentle caress.

  And then he slightly twisted his hand, his thumb parting her to rub along her clit, slow and relentless so that her orgasm flowed through her as if on command. In gentle pulses of heat, it spread through every part of her body until she was throbbing all over with pleasure, still weightless, still flying, anchored to the earth only by the touch of her mate.

  “Now,” he murmured at last, his voice so rough she almost didn’t recognize it.

  She kept her eyes closed as he pulled her closer, and then—at last—he was inside her. His hot erection slid into her until she felt filled by heat, still so tender and sensitive from her orgasm that even the smallest of his motions sent sparks of pure ecstasy racing across her skin.

  Here in the water, it was harder to move. Every of his thrusts became a slow, steady slide into her, as relentless as the tide as pleasure began to mount again.

  She clutched at his shoulders, the bond between them glowing a bright gold now as everything inside her throbbed around him. Her nipples were aching and hard, rubbing against the hard planes of his pecs. Every slow thrust made her gasp now. She felt breathless, lightheaded, filled so completely by her mate that it felt like all the world had faded away, and the only thing of importance was that they’d come together at last.