The Complete BBW, Shifter, Paranormal Romance Reader

by Becca Fanning

  “Is he always so grumpy?”

  “No. He’s actually really sweet on the inside. He just hasn’t gotten the hang of all this and the fact that he doesn’t exactly have a private life anymore.”

  “He isn’t going to make this easy, is he?”

  “Can you blame him? Two years ago we didn’t have any of this,” he said, arms taking in the house. “We were clearing hiking trails, hauling scrap, that kind of thing. It’s a big change to go from fried bologna sandwiches to fresh salmon and crab legs. Will he make it easy for you? That’s your job,” he said with a shrug. “Just talk to him and show him that you aren’t here to make his life worse. The reason his fans are so rabid is because they don’t know anything about him. He’s a big mystery, and I think once you shine a little bit of light on him, the fans will get their fill.”

  “Should be really easy now now that I have to win his trust first before I can even work.”

  “See why I like you?” he said and they both chuckled. “Let’s get you something to eat. Then you can worry about the little stuff, ok?”

  “Yes, the little stuff like my whole purpose for being here and my continued employment.”

  “Exactly, the little stuff!” he said with a big grin.

  “Have I mentioned how much of a gentleman you are, Greg?”

  “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were getting sweet on me. You’re going to have to do your best to resist my natural charms. For your journalistic integrity, of course.”

  She pretended like she was thinking about it for a little bit and then said, “No comment.”

  After a scrumptious dinner of freshly baked bread, spiral cut ham and mashed yams, Nicole retired to her room to get everything ready for tomorrow. That’s when work would begin. Right now, she was drop dead exhausted.

  A knock came from the door.

  “Come in,” she said.

  Ben walked in, “Getting settled in ok?”

  “Yeah, everything is great.”

  “We’re going to head into town. There’s a quiet little honky tonk where we like to stir things up a bit. Helps us blow off steam before we’re all cooped up on a road trip. You’re welcome to join us,” he said.

  “I’d love to, Ben, but I’m exhausted. Regretfully, I think I’ll have to pass.”

  “Ok, well sleep tight. Obviously make yourself at home. The TV in the living room gets like two thousand channels according to Abel. Just don’t mess with the DVR or blood might be spilled,” he added with a friendly twinkle in his eye. “Tons of snacks in the pantry. Help yourself. Our casa, su casa,” he said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

  She heard the boys hooting and hollering as they left the house and piled into a pair of pickup trucks. The rumble of their vehicles left behind an almost ominous silence. Peaceful, but peaceful like death. She lay her head down on the pillow and realized she wasn’t tired anymore. Fuck.

  She got up and left the bedroom, walking through the dark house. It was big, and it was a nice structure, but you could tell they still had their humble roots. Their decorations were simple reflecting a simple lifestyle that they came from and sang about. Their hit song, “Dust Moon Rising,” was a clarion call to the life of subsistence and appreciation of your neighbors. It was about the American spirit, eternal and uplifting. Their songs resonated with their audience, complimenting their raw talent.

  Nicole opened the door that lead to the back yard. A bunch of sunning chairs were laid out around a big in-ground pool. Lights from the pool cast odd shadows, and in the light she could see vapors rising off it. Heated. Nice! The air was good for her. It was cold but it was good. After all, she needed to clear her head and her thoughts and devise some means to coexist peacefully with Michael. He had been closely guarded and silent all through dinner. It was as though he was trying his hardest to make sure he gave up nothing. His brooding demeanor and huge physique gave him an air of danger that Nicole couldn’t shake.

  He had actually smiled once though. During dinner, Abel had been talking about their childhood and how they used to get together almost every night. Michael would start to sing and gradually every other person would fall into harmony.

  “We would just sing from the heart. If we were down about something. If we were happy about something, it didn’t matter.” Abel had said. “I think that was what started this music thing.”

  It was at that point that Michael had surprised her. His face had cracked into a smile that softened his entire look. His voice was nothing like the harsh tone he spoke to her in earlier. “When our mother heard us, her face would light up like we had given her the world. That had to be the most amazing sight then.”

  “Is that why you make music?” she had asked.

  Michael clammed up immediately.

  Tanner caught the awkward silence and interjected. “Yeah, in a sense. We make music because of the smiles that it brings to our fans. It just feels right. There’s too much of the negative stuff out there already.”

  She had stored that away into the back of her head, filed away with Michael's smiling face. She needed to get to that side of him. She needed to think of ways to make him open up and be that smiling Michael again. Only that Michael would give her the information she needed. Only that Michael would be of any use to her.

  She walked towards the pool. She was cold but there was this crazy feeling to just go swimming. She’d been swimming five days a week for years. Some people jogged, but she swam. She gazed at the pool with longing. Why not? This was her only opportunity to get a swim in while the guys were gone.

  She quickly stripped off her clothes, folded them neatly and laid them on one of the chairs. She walked back to the pool and gently lowered herself into the water. The water was warm, contrasting with the cool air of the mountain evening. She lay motionless at first, just letting the water soothe her. She closed her eyes. She could get used to this. This feels good.

  A splash shook her out of her reverie. She was disoriented before she realized someone had gotten into the pool with her. In a panic she dove underwater, not really sure what her plan was. She rushed on up gasping.

  “What the hell?” the voice said and started swimming towards her. “Who is that?”

  She knew that voice. Of all the people she had to be stuck in a pool naked with, it had to be Michael. This was the last thing she needed. The big brute seeing her in her birthday suit. “It’s Nicole. Please stay where you are.”

  “Wanna race? I’ll give you a head start,” he said as he swam over to her.

  Nicole was even angrier. “Stay where you are! I came for a swim. I didn’t know you were going to be back so soon. I thought you’d be at the pub. Please don’t come closer,” she said but it was too late.

  His broad shoulders bobbed up and down less than three feet away. “Why?”

  She was exasperated. “Because I’m not wearing any clothes,” she blurted out. There. She had said it.

  His eyes went half lidded for a moment and he inhaled through his nose. “Look, I didn’t know you were in here. I thought I had the house to myself,” he said, his eyes normal and wide again. He didn’t why away from her. He wasn’t embarrassed or awkward at all.

  “So did I. We were both apparently wrong. I’ll leave. Close your eyes, please,” Nicole said. She couldn’t tell if it the temperature of the pool got turned up, but the water felt hot. Electric. The warmth spread through her body, a tingling sensation that was adrenaline and excitement. To be naked in front of an alpha male stud rockstar like this was thrilling. It was primal.

  “You don’t have to on my account,” he said, closing his eyes.

  “I’m cold already. I need to get in,” she said and swam past him. She got out of the pool without another word. She walked back to where she lay her clothes and got dressed quickly. Without another word, she walked back towards the house. Today was all shades of wrong.

  Nicole tried to open the backdoor but it wouldn’t budge. She assumed she wasn�
��t turning it all the way, and she strained against the big oak door with all her might. She was so cold, she was shivering already. Why was everything going wrong for her today? Why in the world was it like this? She was going to hit the door with her shoulder again when she felt a presence. She turned to face Michael clad in nothing but a towel.

  “Need a hand?” he asked.

  Something in Nicole snapped. The spider silk thread that held her patience together broke clean in two. “There has been nothing but problems since this morning! I’m freezing and wet in the mountains! The door won’t open. I didn’t even want to take this assignment but my boss insisted. I seem to be stuck with someone who has chosen to hate me and make me suffer for the next week because of the singular fact that I am a journalist!” she blurted out. She got livid when he started to laugh. “And what is so funny?”

  He held up a bunch of keys in front of her and then used one of the keys to open the door. He outstretched his arm signaling to her to go in. She walked into the hallway and immediately spun around.

  “Let’s just rip this bandaid off,” she said. “If you don’t want me here, why not just say so? Why make my life a living hell? First you decided not to show up at the airport and then you decide to lock me out. What did I ever do to you?”

  Again he started laughing. He shut the door behind him and started to nudge her towards the stairs. She pushed his hand away and glared at him as though she wanted to tear him apart.

  “I guess you are too angry to notice you are shivering already. I don’t have a vendetta against you Nicole. Let me help you before you catch a cold.” He said and held her with both arms. She looked at herself and realized that she was indeed shivering. She let him lead her to her room. He got her to lay on the bed, tucked a blanket around her and headed back out of the room.

  She couldn’t get a bead on Michael. What was going on? Before she could answer the question, he was back in her room with a mug of hot chocolate. For the first time since they had met that night, she actually looked at him. He was still in his towel and so she had the complete view.

  Like his brothers, he was a hulk. His hair was wet map, occasionally letting a drop of water run down a sculpted jawline. An extremely attractive one at that. He had baby fine hair on his chest, arms and legs. She wondered what those would feel like, pressing down onto her. The towel was cinched around his waist, strained from beneath by two massive legs. And they weren’t the only massive thing under that towel. God bless the cling of a wet towel. She realized she was biting her lip when she shook her head to snap out of it.

  “Hot chocolate should warm you up a little. I turned on the heater too.” He said and handed her the mug.

  “Why the nice act all of a sudden?” she asked. She was still distracted by the sight of him in just this towel.

  “This isn’t an act. This is me.”

  “I disagree. I met you earlier and…”

  He sat on the edge of her bed. Nicole thought there was something about every member of this family being overly familiar with strangers. Maybe boundaries were different in the south?

  “And you are just making a mountain out of nothing,” Michael said. “Look, I’m sorry about this evening. I don’t like the idea of my life being out there for the world to see. And I didn’t lock you out. I got back from my drive and saw the door was unlocked and there was no one in, so I locked up and went for a swim. As for picking you up, that was another misunderstanding. One I apologize for and would ask you to…” he sighed. “Just leave it at that.”

  “But you had an argument with Greg.” She was still confused by this whole business and she wouldn’t hide it.

  “About a lot of other things and this.” he replied.

  “Oh.”

  “Listen, I’m not the terror you’ve made me out to be. I’ll admit that I’m not a huge fan of the media, but can you blame me?” He rested his fingers on Nicole’s calf and softly stroked it through the blanket. “I’ll be right back,” he said and went out of her room again.

  Please get something to wear while you are at it, she thought. Some tiny part of her wanted him to come back. To sit on the bed. Maybe keep her warm. Stop! This is a job! She couldn’t risk her professionalism on some groupie fling thing.

  He was back in the room again, this time with a small tub of something. She sat up as he approached her bed and placed the mug by the bed. She could feel her nipples getting hard and pulled the blanket up to cover herself. He was still here in his towel. Why wouldn’t he just get dressed?

  He sat beside her again and reached out for her palm. He took some of the content of the tub and started to rub it on her fingers. He was gentle on her fingers as he massaged the ointment on them. The cold completely forgotten, Nicole started to feel something different entirely as he worked her fingers. It didn’t help matters that he was in a towel only. “The menthol in this is good for your lungs.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. She was distracted by the stirrings in her loins. She was dangerously close to doing something dangerously stupid. She snatched her hands away from him a lot quicker than she intended to.

  “Is something the matter?” he said, arching an eyebrow.

  “Nothing. I’m fine,” she said.

  He still had the look on his face.

  “Fine. I’m exhausted and cold. I was just naked in front of you, and now you’re pretty much giving me the full butcher’s window treatment. I just need to get to bed.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, leaving the bed and walking to her door. “It didn’t register in my head that I was still in a towel. I just wanted to be sure you were fine first. Call me if you need anything. I’m just down the hall.”

  “Okay.” She said and watched as he left.

  She grabbed the scratchpad she put on the bedside table. The pen wrote in a flurry. She was probably seeing things, but what she saw was what she saw. Right before Michael left, she looked him right in the eyes. One was blue like before.

  The other eye was gold.Nicole settled into the far back of the concert hall with her pen and notepad in hand. She loved the vantage that this position provided. Some reporters would have preferred front row seats to the show but she knew the back was the place to be. Here, she could not only see the artists, she could see the fans and feel what they felt. The fans were important: they were as much a part of the story as the artists. It was for them that she wrote. It was for them that she gave reviews.

  The tour was starting with a special show for the locals before kicking off for real. The first time they’d played this hall two years ago, it had been part of a local battle of the bands. The rest was history. They’d play this show to open their tour, rest for a day or two at home, then move on from Georgia. Then she’d be on a plane back home.

  The room was already bursting with excited fans. The hall was dark, with house lights dimly lit for minimum safety purposes. It had that strange smell that old dive bars had, probably from the constantly leaking beer taps. The boys were backstage, doing their last minute preparations in private. Her pleads and demands to observe them fell on deaf ears, so she was out here, with the rabble.

  They were all waiting for The Solid Oaks to come on stage. Some of the younger fans had boards and posters, the rest of them just stuck with chanting their name. Two girls beside her were going on and on about how much they’d like to be near them, touch them even. Then one had teased the other that she had a crush on Michael. Nicole’s head turned in their direction automatically. Her look must have been withering because the young girls skittered away without another word.

  Nicole sighed, wondering what was getting into her. A part of her was glad that the job was almost over. She needed it to be over. She needed to be back in the regular rhythm of her life. But another part of her, well, had less professional thoughts. There was so much to Michael she needed answers to. Like peeling back layer after layer just to find more layers beneath. Her curious side wouldn’t let it go, and it certainly didn’t hur
t that he was a tall handsome country music star. I wonder if those hands could strum other things besides a guitar…