by Zoe Chant
Aren't we going in? his bear wanted to know. It was unaccountably antsy for some reason.
Yeah, yeah. Keep your fur on.
A little bell tinkled on the door as he opened it. Of course this was the kind of place that had a tinkly little bell. Derek stepped inside and looked around.
Most of the customers were at the counter, but his attention went immediately to the black-haired woman sitting at a table, talking to a uniformed police officer.
She was riveting. Glorious raven waves of hair swept back like wings from a cute face with a snub nose, full lips, and a splattering of freckles a few shades darker than her light brown skin. Her generous, curvy figure filled the khaki-colored Daily Bean T-shirt she was wearing; a purple cardigan thrown over the top of it accentuated rather than hid her curves.
Inside him, his bear went suddenly on high alert, straining forward.
That's our mate. Our mate!
No wonder his bear had wanted to get to the coffee shop so damn bad. No wonder it had been tense and weird for the last few days.
It just freakin' figured. He'd never really been sure if he believed in fated mates and all that stuff his Gran used to talk about. And now, here he was, with his past coming back to haunt him—and this would be the time when his mate would enter the picture, because fate liked to dump on him.
So much for any chance of this not getting personal.
He understood now what Gran had been talking about. You'll know it when it happens, she'd said, and he sure as hell did. It was like a bolt of lightning between the eyes. He had to struggle to pull himself together before he crossed the room, weaving his way between little café-style tables and tiny chairs that looked too flimsy to hold him without collapsing under his weight.
Everything about this place made him feel big and clumsy, especially as he stood over the little table where the curvy brunette was sitting and looking perfectly at home, her small brown hands wrapped around a mug with a curl of whipped cream on top of it.
"I'm here to protect her," Derek said. "Keegan sent me."
The uniformed cop nodded. "The Lieutenant said you were coming." He got up hastily. Humans weren't as sensitive to shifter dominance hierarchies as shifters themselves, but Derek had noticed in the past that humans often responded instinctively to shifters, especially to the big animals, bears and wolves and cats. It was useful in his line of work; humans didn't exactly fear him, but they sensed the air of danger around him.
And right now, he was a shifter whose bear was giving off a powerful vibe of You are sitting in my mate's space. Get out of it.
Knock it off, asshole, Derek told his bear, though he was having to squash down the feeling himself. He's just doing his job.
And then his mate looked up at him, and he was almost knocked off his feet by her eyes: soft brown, with hints of green and gray. She wasn't afraid of him. He could see it in her face, in the glorious depths of those summer-forest eyes. Most humans pulled away from him, not even understanding why; their subconscious instincts knew what their conscious minds did not.
But his mate didn't even have a shred of fear, not for the big man looming over her table, and not for the bear inside him. In fact, she was looking at him with an expression as stunned as Derek must have looked, when he'd walked in and first caught sight of her.
She feels it too! his bear rumbled, pleased.
And then his mate seemed to shake herself back to reality. "I—I'm sorry. I'm Gaby Diaz, but I guess you probably know that, if you're here to protect me. I didn't catch your name?"
"Derek Ruger." He held out a hand; her small fingers vanished into his big, gun-callused ones. Her skin felt so soft. He had to make himself let go. "Like I said, I'm here to protect you." He pulled out one of the flimsy-looking little chairs and sat in it carefully, his knees bumping the bottom of the table.
"Oh. Good." She looked pleased by that, the corners of her lips turning up before she visibly forced them down.
Up close, Derek could see the traces of dried tears on her face. His bear bristled inside him, wanting to rip the fur off that bastard who'd scared her this much.
"Are you a police officer?" she asked him.
"No. Private security."
She touched her fingers to her lips. Derek tried not to follow the movement of her hand—tried not to think about how very soft and touchable her lips looked. "That's not usual, is it?" she said.
"No. It's an unusual situation. Lieutenant Keegan—you met him, right? Dark hair with a little gray, looks like he's made of all sharp edges?" This brought out a little grin, and she nodded. "He's an old friend. We've worked together in the past. You can call him if you're not sure about me."
"That's fine," she said. "I trust you."
So soft. So trusting. What must it be like to live in a world like that? Although from the look on her face, that soft world of trusted authority figures had been blown apart this morning.
"The lieutenant filled me in on what you saw at the credit union."
Her brown eyes with their half-hidden depths searched his face. Derek had to fight down a powerful urge to reach out and brush his fingertips across the soft curve of her cheek. "Did—did he tell you everything I saw?"
"You saw a man turn into a bear," Derek said quietly.
She gave a short, jerky nod. "No one seems to believe me. I couldn't tell if the lieutenant believed me, but at least he didn't look at me like I was crazy."
"He believed you," Derek said softly. "And so do I."
Her eyes went wide, and she gazed at him for a long, quiet moment. "You do."
"I do," he said. It hovered on the tip of his tongue to tell her why he believed her, but he couldn't quite make the words come out. She'd only just found out that shifters existed. Telling her that the cop who was protecting her was also a shifter, and a bear on top of that, didn't seem like the best idea right now.
She's going to find out eventually, his bear grumbled.
Eventually, sure. Not while she's still shaken up from having the Ghost chase her!
"Is that ... a thing that can happen, then?" she asked, clasping the mug in her hands. Derek started to lift a hand to place it over hers, but forced it back down on the table.
She's human. And she's in your care right now. Don't move too fast or tell her too much too soon. Don't scare her off.
"It's not common. The people who can do it are called shifters." He glanced around to make sure that no one was near enough to overhear, but she was at a table in the very corner, and the cheerful buzz of morning coffee-shop conversation covered their quiet voices.
"Yeah, that's what the lieutenant said." She looked down at her cup, then up at him again, quickly. "He also said the man I saw, the, uh, the polar bear, is very dangerous."
"He is. He's called the Ghost. And trust me, you don't want to go up against him. I've done it. I barely got out alive."
A swift intake of breath between her full lips. "You know him?"
"We're not friends, if that's what you're thinking."
Now she was looking at him with a narrow-eyed, suspicious stare. "Next you're going to tell me you can turn into a bear."
Derek was too caught off guard to answer immediately.
"Holy sh—Do you turn into a bear?"
"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it?" Derek asked quietly. "Send a bear to catch a bear."
And now he couldn't help wondering if Keegan had somehow known she was his mate—but no, that wasn't the sort of thing any shifter could tell about another one.
He'd been drawn here because she was his destiny. If it hadn't been this, it would have been a chance meeting some other day. His Gran had said you couldn't escape it. If you were meant for each other, you would be drawn to each other, no matter what.
"I don't know whether to believe you or not."
"I can prove it to you somewhere else," Derek told her. "And right now, somewhere else is where you need to go. You're not safe here. I'll take you to a place where you will be.
We can stop by your home to pick up some things."
Gaby shook her head. "I can't."
"What do you mean, you can't?"
"Like I told the lieutenant, I can't just drop everything and run off to a—a safehouse or whatever. I have a job. Family. Responsibilities." She glanced guiltily toward the counter. "I should be helping Polly with the morning rush right now."
"Your job isn't more important than your life," Derek said.
"Now listen, Mr. Ruger—"
"This might be easier if you call me Derek."
"—Mr. Ruger, I'm going to school and supporting my family. I can't just put my entire life on hold."
"Even if someone very dangerous is after you." This woman's stubbornness and fire was a huge turn-on. She might not be a shifter, but she had a bear's soul, brave and strong and protective.
Too bad it was so damned inconvenient right now.
And it didn't help that all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms so he could explore her generous curves with his hands and lips—
Down, boy!
"Yes," she said firmly. "Look, I know your job is to keep me safe. Believe me, I want me to be safe too, for my son's sake as well as my own. But—"
Son? Derek and his bear thought, startled.
She was his mate. So clearly she didn't have another mate already. And yet. Son?
"—but it's also because of my son that I can't just throw away my job and my future. Not even if this Ghost person is after me."
"You can get another job," Derek said. "You can't get another life."
"Can't you protect me here? If I'd be safe in a hotel room or a safehouse, wouldn't I be just as safe in the coffee shop if you're here?" A tiny crease appeared between her brows as she looked at him. "I—I know it doesn't make any sense, but I already feel safer just because you're here. I don't know why."
Of course she felt safer with her mate here to protect her. Even if her newfound confidence was a damned nuisance for him. "It's not a secure location," Derek said. "There are windows, multiple entrances, people coming and going all the time." He glanced up, just in time to see the woman behind the counter vanish into the back and reappear with a tray of donuts in her oven-mitted hands. "And I can't keep an eye on you properly if you're at the counter and I'm over here. Someone could move in on you when you're out of my sight."
"So what if you were behind the counter with me?" she suggested. "Like, undercover? You can do that kind of thing, right?"
"Sure, but in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly inconspicuous." He gestured a hand to indicate the whole, big, six-foot-five expanse of himself, noting the way Gaby's eyes followed his gesture up and down his body. He might pass for human, but there was no way to hide the bodybuilder's shoulders, the tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his T-shirt, the rugged jaw and tense, alert fighter's stance.
He was used to being muscle for hire, whether as private security or a bouncer or the various other things he'd done since coming back to the States, scarred in body and soul. Looking intimidating was part of his profession.
But it didn't exactly help him fit in at a coffee shop.
"Look, that's the deal," Gaby said, folding her arms, though her gaze lingered on his chest under the shirt. "Just let me get through today's shift, and then we can work out what to do next, okay? I'll explain to my boss. She saw how scared I was this morning. I don't think she'll mind if you stick around. It's like having security for the whole café, in a way."
He couldn't understand how this conversation had spun so completely out of his control. "Miss—er, Mrs. Diaz—" His whole body cringed from using the married honorific, especially the bear inside him. Mate!
But—she'd said son—
She wasn't wearing a ring, though.
"It's Miss—well, Ms., actually," Gaby said. Her eyes flashed in challenge. "Okay, so you don't like my idea. If you'd rather, you can sit over here and nurse a latte while I pull coffee shots. You won't be that far away."
"Too far away if the Ghost shows up," Derek said with finality.
"You'll do it, then?" Despite the tear tracks on her face and her obvious weariness, a glimmer of humor sparked in her eyes.
"I'll do it," Derek said, and wondered whether Keegan was going to laugh or cry when he explained the situation.
Chapter Three: Gaby
During a lull between customers, Gaby went into the kitchen to talk to Polly.
"Well, that's certainly a prime hunk of manflesh you were talking to over there," were the first words out of Polly's mouth.
"You only think that because you haven't had to talk to him," Gaby said, firmly stomping on the part of her that agreed a hundred percent.
He had to have been making fun of her with the crack about turning into a bear—hadn't he?
You saw that other guy turn into a bear—
Maybe she'd lost her mind completely. That would explain everything: why she was seeing people transform into animals, why she couldn't even sit at the same table with frustrating, annoyingly muscle-bound Derek Ruger without wanting to climb all over him—
"Well, if you don't want him ..." Polly grinned.
Gaby blushed all the way to her hairline. "Aren't you married?"
"Seventeen years and counting, but that doesn't mean I can't look. Who is he? Police?"
"No—well, yes, sort of. He's not a detective, but the police sent him to protect me. They're afraid the thieves might come back looking for me. I'm so, so sorry about all of this."
"Not your fault, hon. Hand me that measuring cup there, would you?"
Gaby passed the requested item across the countertop. "I was just about to get back to work, but Der—uh—Mr. Ruger is going to stick around today, if that's okay?"
"If there's any chance of those men you saw coming back to bother you, I'd much rather have him here. And ..." Polly waggled her eyebrows at Gaby. "It'll give us a nice view, won't it?"
Gaby's cheeks felt hot enough to toast bread on. Those shoulders, that chest—aargh. What was wrong with her? She'd never reacted to another man with anything approaching this intensity before, not even Sandy's dad. Especially not Sandy's dad.
"How about a closer view?" she asked hopefully, and then winced as the thought shot straight to her libido. "I mean! Behind the counter! I was wondering if Mr. Ruger could pretend to be a barista for a day, so he could stay closer to me. He's worried that he won't be close enough if there's trouble."
"Does he know how to do the job?"
"No," Gaby admitted. "But I can train him. I've trained new people before."
"You don't even really have to do that, I suppose, as long as he stays out of the way and we don't trip over him." Polly raised her brows again. "Though I wouldn't mind tripping over him, if you know what I mean."
Gaby covered her face with her hands. This was even more embarrassing than having her mother trying to micromanage her dating life. "So it's okay?" she asked, peeking out between her fingers.
"It's fine, honey. Just make sure he doesn't do anything to violate health codes or annoy the customers."
"I promise there won't be any problems. I'll keep a short leash on him." Gaby floundered. "I mean—"
"Settle down and get back out there. Looks like we've got a line at the counter."
They did have a line. Gaby hurried to attend to the customers, all the while very aware of Derek sitting at the table in the back, watching her with his dark, level gaze. He was so intense. She could feel his eyes on her even when she turned away to throw together a breakfast burrito for the next customer, as if there was a magnetic connection between the two of them, holding them together even when they were apart.
What is going on here? First men who turned into bears, then an enormous, tatted-out security guard who made her weak in the knees.
It's like my life has turned into one of those romance novels I used to read, back when I had time to read for fun ...
She handed the breakfast burrito across the counter a
nd ran the customer's credit card. That was the last one, so she made a "come here" gesture at Derek, who got up and sauntered over as the customer left.
He even walked sexy, a casually confident leonine prowl that made something in her hindbrain perk up to attention. As Derek leaned on the counter, Gaby had the sudden realization that letting him back here with her meant that she was going to have to spend the whole day in close proximity to him. Very close proximity. There was just barely room behind the counter for two people to move around, as long as they didn't mind bumping into each other occasionally.
She could think of some parts of him she'd love to bump into ...
Gaby cleared her throat and tried to pretend she wasn't blushing like a sunrise. "My boss said it's all right, so congratulations, Derek Ruger. You get to be a barista for a day."
The look on Derek's face said that he was starting to rethink this plan. "I'm not sure if I like calling myself a barista—"
"Well, too bad, because it's your official job title now." She pointed to a rack on the wall containing khaki T-shirts with the coffee shop logo. "See if there's something in your size hanging there. You'll need to wear it while you're back here."
For a moment she thought he wasn't going to. Then he smiled (her knees wobbled again), and she got an amazing rear view of his tight ass and rippling shoulder muscles as he strolled with that casual, confident stride over to the T-shirt rack and picked one out.
"You can change in the storeroom," Gaby said, trying very hard not to think about all the manflesh—to use Polly's term—that would shortly be on display among their stored cases of paper towels and coffee beans.
The bell on the coffee shop's front door tinkled to announce the departure of the last customer who'd been seated at the tables. With the breakfast rush winding down and the lunch crowd not yet ramping up, the Daily Bean was now empty. Derek gave Gaby a sudden, quick, panty-melting grin.