Breakwater: Rick (BBW Bad Boy Space Bear Shifter Romance) (Star Bears Book 2)

by Becca Fanning

  “But once puberty hits,” Mark said, “we become pretty good at controllin’ it.”

  “Unless we feel threatened,” Bart explained. “Shiftin’ is all about survival, so if we feel threatened—or if someone we care about is threatened—we sometimes Shift without thinkin’ about it.”

  “That’s what happened tonight,” John said. “Matt went in to get us some more beer, saw you bein’ attacked, and he just instinctively Shifted.”

  “And then when we heard him,” Luke said, “we had to jump in to protect both of you by keepin’ that nasty crowd back while Matt dealt with the lowlife who had you.”

  “But you don’t even know me,” Mel said, looking at Matt.

  John snorted. “Our big brother’s always stickin’ up for the little guy or gal against bullies. I mean, it’s in his DNA.”

  The others laughed, but Matt just continued to massage her neck gently with his powerful fingers. She could feel the calluses caused by his guitar strings on her bare skin and shivered. He smiled, then, as though he knew what he was doing to her.

  “That takes us back to the first question,” Bart said. “What the heck were you doin’ in that bar tonight, young lady?”

  Mel had to work to bring her gaze away from Matt’s. She took a deep breath as she fought to bring her mind back to where it belonged.

  “I work for the Konstantine Talent Agency. My job is to visit as many night spots as I can, looking for promising bands and other performers for the Agency to represent. I got called away last night when my boss texted me, and by the time I got back, you guys had already packed up and left. So I asked around, and the bartender told me where you like to play pool when you’re in town.

  “I know it sounds ridiculous, now, but the bartender said it was your last night performing there, and he didn’t know where you were going next or if you were even going to stay in Nashville. I just didn’t want to take the chance that I couldn’t find you again. My job depends on finding great artists, and I haven’t been having a lot of luck lately, so I decided to take a chance this once.

  “Looking back, it was a pretty foolish thing to do, but I was desperate, because I just knew if I didn’t bring you in, someone else would find you and take all the credit. I couldn’t take that chance. I’m skating on pretty thin ice with my boss as it is these days, because I haven’t found anyone worthy of her notice as yet. If I don’t find something soon, she’ll probably fire me, and I won’t be able to pay next month’s rent.”

  “Your boss sounds like a real piece of work,” Bart said, “expectin’ a young gal like you to take chances like that.”

  Mel shook her head then wished she hadn’t. “It’s just the way things are in the business. It’s really cutthroat. And there aren’t that many jobs available these days. I can’t afford to lose this one.”

  Bart sighed. “Okay.”

  They were all quiet for a moment, thinking—she assumed—about her foolishness.

  “Well, no real harm done,” Matt said. “Why don’t I put you to bed, Mel. We can talk about this in the mornin’.”

  “What?”

  “You’re beat, and I’ll bet your head feels like it’s about to fall right off. Let me get you into bed, so you can get some sleep. The others can go back to our hotel for the night then come back in the morning, and we’ll figure out what to do about your boss.”

  “But you can’t stay here,” Mel said.

  “Either one of us stays, or you’re goin’ to a hospital,” Bart said, standing up. “No arguments, young lady. We don’t take any chances with head injuries.”

  “But…”

  “Don’t worry,” Matt said, getting up, too. “I can sleep on the couch. Won’t be the first time.”

  Mel wasn’t certain of when she had lost control, but the next thing she knew, Matt’s brothers and uncle were stomping down the back stairs, and Matt was leading her into her bedroom.

  “I really am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she said testily then gave herself away when she had to grab for the foot of the bed to keep from falling on her face.

  “Of course you are, darlin’,” Matt said cheerfully. “Don’t mind me. I’m just here in case you need a hand with somethin’. Now, why don’t you tell me where you keep your nightgowns?”

  Mel looked up sharply. “What makes you think I don’t sleep in pajamas?”

  Matt narrowed his eyes and seemed to study her closely.

  “Nope. I got five sisters, and you’re definitely a nightie kind of gal.”

  Mel sighed and gave up. “The top drawer, on the left.”

  Matt headed for her dresser. Mel was relieved when he simply took the long sleep shirt that was on top.

  He was grinning when he returned to her, though.

  “You got good taste, darlin’.”

  He had picked up her denim-colored, full-length, Winnie-the-Pooh night shirt, and she could tell he was pleased with her bear connection. When she reached for it, he set it beside her on the bed.

  “Let me help you with those buttons,” he said, reaching for the front of his shirt.

  “No!”

  “You still nervous around me?” he asked, looking perplexed.

  She swallowed hard and dropped her eyes. “Look, I know you’ve already seen me naked once tonight, but I…”

  He reached his hand out to her cheek and raised her eyes to his.

  “This time I won’t look. I promise.”

  “But…”

  “Look, I know you’re still scared of me, but if you’re wonderin’ if I’m gonna jump you, don’t even think it. I’m not the kind of guy who’s gonna try to take advantage of a gal whose hurtin’ and scared. Like I said, we have five sisters, and we all lived in a three-bedroom, one-bath house growin’ up, so I’m real good at dealin’ with women on a lot of levels.”

  He grinned then. “I promise I won’t try to compromise you—at least not until your feelin’ a lot better than you do right now.”

  Her head reeling from the now throbbing pain, Mel conceded defeat and dropped her hands. His were both gentle and impersonal as he helped her out of his flannel shirt and dropped the night shirt over her head then pulled what was left of her dress away. Then he helped her to the bathroom and shut the door behind her for privacy. Mel stood clinging to the counter and stared at herself in the mirror.

  Not any reason at all to worry about Matt’s intentions tonight, she thought. Not when you look like this.

  Her night shirt revealed bruises on her arms and neck where her attacker had man-handled her, and her cheek was turning a sickly yellow color where he had punched her. One eye was a little puffy, too, and she wondered if she would end up with a black eye by morning.

  Sighing, Mel took care of business, brushing her teeth, carefully combing out the worst of the tangles in her hair, gently washing her face, and using the necessary. Matt was waiting for her outside, his flannel shirt back in place and buttoned up. He helped her to bed and tucked her in. When she sighed in relief, he reached out to touch her hair, now spread out on the pillow.

  “It’s like sunrise on the mountain after the first hard frost,” he said.

  Mel smiled. “And you’re a songwriter. This hair has been the bane of my existence ever since I first started school.

  “It’s beautiful,” he insisted.

  “Thank you.”

  He leaned down, kissed her softly on her brow, and turned out the bedside lamp.

  “Matt?”

  “Yeah?”

  She hesitated. “I’m glad you stayed, but…”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s just that…Well…Do you really only…Shift…when you’re in danger?”

  Matt smiled. “We can Shift any time. It’s just that sometimes, when things happen—like tonight—we Shift without thinkin’ about it as the survival instincts just kick in without warnin’.”

  “Could you…I mean, would you…Shift…now? Just so I can see you…like that…when you’
re not…angry?

  Matt’s smile broadened into a grin, which slowly morphed into something more, and before she knew it, he was a great big bear. His coat, like his human hair, was mostly dark brown, though the shades ranged from dark chocolate on his legs and belly to a lighter beaver color on his back and ending with a warm, sandy color on his long snout. His nose was big and black and looked cold and wet.

  Mel knew she should be afraid. Good heavens, there was a bear in her bedroom! But somehow she didn’t feel afraid, for the twinkle she had seen in Matt’s golden eyes hadn’t gone away when he’d Shifted into his bear form.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, awed by this truly handsome beast.

  She heard a low rumbling that she could have sworn was a chuckle, and Matt laid his snout on the edge of her bed, nudging her lightly. Mel smiled sleepily and reached out to gently caress his face. Matt licked her fingers then turned away to head for the hallway. He rose onto his powerful hindquarters at the doorway and moved the light switch with his nose.

  “Good night, Matt,” she called softly.

  Matt glanced over his shoulder and snuffled.

  Mel giggled, and turning onto her side in order to relieve the pressure on the back of her head, she allowed herself to fall asleep.

  Mel woke slowly and turned to look at her clock, only to moan when the back of her head connected with the pillow. She tried to lie still, waiting for the pain to pass, but after a time, she heard voices coming from the living room.

  “Please tell me I didn’t leave the T.V. running all night,” she grumbled.

  Then she registered the tone of those voices and froze.

  They’re back!

  Throwing aside her blankets, she struggled to a sitting position and waited for the world to stop spinning. It didn’t take as long as she’d expected, and she managed to make it into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, she emerged from her bedroom, pulling a sweater on over the yellow camp shirt she had tucked into a pair of slender jeans.

  “Hey there,” Matt said when she appeared in the kitchen.

  “Good mornin’,” Luke said, making way for her at the table.

  “I hope you don’t mind us borrowin’ your kitchen,” Bart said, as he flipped pancakes in one of her square frying pans.

  “Not at all,” she said, surprised to find it was the truth.

  “Uncle Bart’s famous for his flapjacks,” John assured her, reaching into her cabinet for another plate on which he placed some crispy bacon before handing the plate to Bart for some pancakes. He set the plate down in front of Mel.

  “Uh, I don’t usually eat a big breakfast,” she said.

  “Did you even take the time for dinner last night?” Bart asked.

  Mel had to think about it. “I guess not.”

  “Then eat up, darlin’,” he said. “We got a long day ahead of us, and you need feedin’ up for it.”

  Mel couldn’t help but smile—until she noticed the kitchen clock.

  “Oh, my God. I am so late.”

  She tried to stand up too quickly, though, and Matt grabbed her before she could faint.”

  “Easy, darlin’,” he said, carefully lowering her to her chair.

  “You don’t understand. I’ll lose my job for sure, if I’m three hours late for work!”

  “Now, how can you be goin’ into work, if you’re busy recruitin’ the Konstantine Talent Agency’s newest band?” Mark asked.

  Mel looked around at all of them, a flicker of hope sparking as she saw they were serious.

  “Do you mean it?” she asked.

  “Well, there’re some stipulations that need to be met, before we sign any contract,” Bart said, lifting the last of the pancakes onto a plate and reaching to turn off the burner before joining her at the table with his own breakfast. “We’ve all seen what the ‘country western’ set has become, and the boys aren’t gonna go along with most of it.”

  Mel swallowed her bite of pancake and eyed Bart closely.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He means we don’t hold with all the electronic stuff, flashing lights, pyrotechnics, or any of that crap,” Luke said.

  “We play acoustical instruments,” Mark said, “and while we expect to need amplification in a bigger space, we’re not gonna be blastin’ our sound to kingdom come. It’s the music that’s important, and it doesn’t mean anything, if the audience can’t hear the lyrics.”

  “Bart handles all our sound and lightin’,” Matt added. “He always has and always will.”

  “I see.” Mel took a deep breath and sipped at the cup of tea that had magically appeared at her hand. “I’m not certain Kitty will go for that, but I will certainly do everything I can to make it happen.”

  “There’s no choice, Mel,” Matt said. “You saw what can happen when there’s a big ruckus. You start shootin’ fireworks, flashin’ lights and smoke, all that crap, and we not only won’t be able to sing worth a damn, we may not even be able to keep from Shiftin’.”

  “Oh.” Mel looked at each of them in turn, felt a jolt as she looked into those deep golden eyes, and realized they were not being difficult. While she had no intention of telling Kitty Konstantine of all people about their natures as Shifters, she knew she had to make her boss believe their way was the best way, the only way.

  I can’t believe I have to even consider all this, she thought. Twenty-four hours ago, I’m not sure I even really believed Shifters exited.

  Then she turned and looked into Matt’s golden eyes and remembered the way he had Shifted for her last night and took a deep breath.

  “Well, then, that’s the way it will be.”

  “Don’t worry about Uncle Bart not bein’ up to it,” John said. “He’s had real trainin’ in lights and sound.”

  “Went to Las Vegas for it,” Luke added.

  “He’s licensed in Tennessee, too,” Matt said, “so you don’t have to worry that some venue won’t let him handle their equipment.”

  “That’s a relief,” Mel said, taking a bit of bacon and pausing to savor the smoky taste of it. Due to her very limited budget, she rarely splurged on things like bacon, and for some reason, it tasted particularly good today.

  “Do you think this Kitty woman will go for it?” Bart asked.

  Mel thought for a moment. “Do you guys have a CD?”

  “Sure,” Matt said. “We got some out in the van.”

  “In that case, we just need to be certain we get Kitty to listen to it, before she kicks us all out of her office.”

  “It seems to me you’re riskin’ a powerful lot on what you heard the boys do the other night,” Bart said.

  Mel took a deep breath. “Perhaps. But if we can’t sell Kitty on their talent, then I’m out of a job, anyway.”

  “Would she really fire you?” John asked.

  Mel nodded and glanced at the clock. “I haven’t checked in with the office in almost twelve hours, and I’m already three hours late for work this morning, so yes, she’ll fire me—unless I can sell her on what you can do. A new hit is the only thing that’s going to distract her.”