Guardian Lion: BBW Lion Shifter Paranormal Romance (Cedar Hill Lions Book 2)

by Chant,Zoe

  Daphne grimaced, took a sip of her drink, and then grimaced again as it burned its way down her throat. She wasn’t used to strong liquor, and she guessed it showed. She didn’t even really know why she’d ordered it – she preferred a good bottle of red wine. But after the day she’d had, whiskey had just seemed like the right thing to do.

  Daphne took another sip of her drink. The burn was almost starting to become pleasant, now – it wasn’t quite there yet, but it was on its way. Her belly felt warm, at least, and her heart had stopped feeling like a cold rock in the middle of her chest.

  That was a definite improvement.

  Steeling herself, Daphne threw back the rest of her drink.

  She thought at first she’d managed to do it without feeling any different, but a second later the nausea hit her – along with a spinning head and watering eyes.

  Okay. That’s definitely enough, she thought to herself. She just wasn’t cut out for this hard-drinking routine, no matter what her day had been like. The best thing she could do right now was head home and get some rest, then head to work tomorrow clear-eyed and determined, with a plan of action.

  It was what she’d always done, ever since she was a child. Her parents might have had plenty of money, but they were so busy in their respective careers that she’d almost always been left to her own devices.

  Looking back, she sometimes realized how easy it would have been for her to go off the rails, like so many other kids with too much money and too few boundaries. Perhaps it had been realizing so early that the celebrity fishbowl wasn’t for her that had saved her.

  Figuring that out had made her strong-willed, independent and capable. Looking after herself for so long had taught her resilience, and that she didn’t need to rely on anyone except herself.

  Well, except for just at this very second.

  Nausea welled up in her stomach again, and Daphne had to blink away the fuzziness that suddenly descended over her sight.

  Capable, except when it came to handling strong drink, apparently.

  Trying not to hiccup, Daphne carefully eased down from her barstool, trying to act as cool as possible.

  She almost nailed it, too – almost, until she leaned over to pick up her purse, her head went into a spin, and she found herself stumbling across the floor, the point of her heel catching on the carpet.

  Oh – oh gosh…

  Daphne swung her arms out, knowing she looked ridiculous, but trying to do anything to avoid landing on the stained, sticky-looking barroom carpet.

  Flailing, she managed to prevent herself from going down by stumbling gracelessly across the room, until –

  Bang.

  Daphne gasped as she careened into something hard, wrapping her arms around it to try to regain her balance, not caring at that moment what exactly it was, only that it was solid.

  Solid. And warm. And – oh my God!

  Daphne jumped back, suddenly feeling one hundred per cent sober as she realized just what – or rather, who – exactly she’d been keeping her balance with.

  Whoever he was, he was tall and he hadn’t so much as moved when she’d barreled straight into him. Too embarrassed to look him in the face and too flustered to take in anything other than a broad chest covered by a checked flannel shirt, Daphne gulped, trying to find her voice.

  “I’m so, so sorry –” she started to say, mortification burning her cheeks.

  “Hey, there’s no need for apologies. It’s not every day a beautiful woman just stumbles straight into your path like that.”

  Daphne blinked, slightly taken aback. What kind of corny line is tha –

  Her thought was abruptly cut off as she finally managed to make herself look up into her unwitting savior’s eyes.

  Okay, wow.

  She supposed when you looked like that, you could get away with all the corny lines you wanted.

  The man was tall and broad as a door, the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt showing off his muscular forearms, which soon became bulging biceps. His jaw was square, his hair cut short, military-style. But it was his eyes that really caught her attention: green and gold, staring down at her with a kind of intensity that made her stomach flip-flop.

  “Oh – well, sorry all the same,” she finally managed to get out when her tongue came back to working order. “I didn’t mean to – I was just trying to – ”

  “Get your purse?” He raised an arm, and Daphne saw he was holding her little white purse. In his massive hand, it looked even smaller, like a child’s dress-up toy. She swallowed.

  “It fell when you stumbled. I was just picking it up when you landed on me,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, making his eyes crinkle in a way Daphne had to admit she found ridiculously attractive. He was obviously an outdoorsman – tanned and rugged. He was about a million miles away from the pampered little rich boys she’d known growing up, none of whom had ever interested her in the slightest.

  “Thank you,” she said, reaching up for the purse. Their fingers brushed as she took it, and Daphne felt a spark of electricity jump from his skin to hers. Stifling her gasp, she snatched the purse away from him. “Damn static electricity,” she mumbled, immediately feeling her cheeks redden once again.

  Wow, I’m out of practice at this.

  Not that she could really blame herself, she thought. She had bigger things on her mind right now than tall, incredibly handsome, apparently extremely chivalrous men who picked up her purse for her when she dropped it and seemed not to mind at all when she head-butted them right in their broad, muscular chests.

  Suppressing the urge to bite her lip, Daphne let her eyes drift down from his face again. He’d probably barely felt it.

  Bigger things, she reminded herself. Like how to save my boss and maybe myself from mob loan sharks.

  The thought was like a bucket of cold water. She couldn’t be standing here blushing like a schoolgirl when she ought to be focusing on the huge problem of how to deal with the organized criminals currently circling around her.

  Plus…

  The idea that he might only be being nice to her because he’d somehow recognized her suddenly hit her. She didn’t know how, but it was a possibility. It was very likely she was only being paranoid, but after today, she didn’t think she could blame herself.

  “Well, thanks again,” she blurted, before turning and dashing toward the door, trying to keep her head down and not look back over her shoulder at him. She knew if she did, she’d never leave. Not alone, in any case.

  Get his number! Get his number! her inner voice screeched at her, but Daphne determinedly pushed it down.

  The last thing she needed right now was to be pursuing a romance – aside from everything else, she was still new at being on her own, and in this town. She was determined to find her feet on her own before trying to get a love life. She was finally living her dream, and she wanted to focus on that. She didn’t need any more complications right now.

  The winter cold hit her full in the face as she stepped outside, small flurries of snow swirling around her. Waving down a taxi, Daphne jumped inside, slamming the door behind her with gusto.

  Regret spiked in her chest the moment the taxi pulled away from the curb. Had she been too hasty? She’d been so flustered, and a little tipsy. She was still reeling from Terry’s revelation about the loan, and shaken from her embarrassing fall. Would it have been so bad to get the guy’s number? Maybe it wasn’t the right time just now, but, maybe, in a little while…

  Thinking again of the way he had looked at her, Daphne bit her lip.

  But no. It was useless to think about it, she decided.

  She had other things to concentrate on than a man she’d probably never see again.

  Chapter Two

  Heath

  Breathing out, Heath watched as the white mist of his breath drifted away from him in the cold winter air. He always went jogging in the early morning, rain, hail or shine, and this morning was no exception. Even if it
was freezing out, he just didn’t feel right unless he started the day with a good, hard run.

  Shifters ran hot anyway, and what would have seemed to a human to be intolerably cold weather barely affected him. But there was also the matter that, now he was out of the army, he didn’t intend to go to flab. He’d seen it a thousand times before – former soldiers released from the rigors of army life, who ended up going and losing their heads with their newfound freedom.

  That wasn’t the only reason he intended to stay in shape. After his discharge, he’d completed his training courses and had qualified as a private security contractor, landing an ideal job right out of the gate: he was working for Assured Security, the most prestigious private security company this side of the border. They supplied bodyguards to celebrities, liaised with law enforcement, and protected businesses. Best of all, it was owned, run, and staffed almost entirely by shifters.

  Ideally, he wanted to end up working for himself one day, running his own security company, or just being able to freelance on his own. He wanted freedom and independence. But this job was nothing to sneeze at, and Heath knew that even with his years of experience in the army and the way he’d aced the training courses, he’d been lucky to get it, and he had to take it seriously. He didn’t intend on running wild.

  Well, not in that sense, anyway.

  There was no harm in throwing back a few drinks though, right? Kicking back a little, staying out late, maybe even meeting a good-lookin’ gal. Or two.

  Heath swallowed, his perfect pace faltering a little.

  Speaking of good-lookin’ gals, the one who had stumbled into him last night… now she had been a woman.

  A lady, he corrected himself. From the expensive purse to the impeccable suit that hugged every generous curve of her body, everything about her had said class. Her dark hair had been swept back from the prettiest face he thought he’d ever seen – all thick eyelashes, green eyes and plump red lips.

  She’d been just what he found most attractive in a lady, too: luscious thighs, a cute soft belly, and her breasts…

  Inside his chest, Heath felt his lion raise its head, baring its teeth and growling. It had been doing that all night, restlessly prowling around, randomly roaring, flexing its massive claws. To be honest, it was starting to piss Heath off just a little bit. He didn’t have the first clue as to what it wanted, and how he could settle it down.

  Maybe it was mad he hadn’t shifted in a while – but now that he was here in the big city, there weren’t as many opportunities. Back on his Uncle Lincoln’s ranch, he and his cousins, Joe, Casey, and Mason could shift whenever they wanted to, run wild through land where there was no one for miles around.

  But Heath’s lion had had to get used to being restricted while he was in the army, though, so that didn’t make sense. Maybe it sensed he had more freedom now, and it was getting annoyed at not being let out. Maybe it wanted to roar and feel the wind in its mane, the dirt under its paws.

  Something about that just didn’t ring true, though. He’d dealt with a restless lion in the past, and this didn’t feel like that.

  The run wasn’t helping either – and usually any kind of physical activity, from lifting weights, to jogging, to wrestling, would calm his lion right down.

  This was… different.

  And it’d started the second that gorgeous lady had crashed into him last night at the bar.

  Heath grinned. Maybe that was it – maybe he just needed to get laid.

  His lion snarled as the thought crossed his mind, opening its mouth for a full-throated growl, tail lashing, shoulder muscles bunching.

  It did not like that thought at all.

  What the hell? Heath thought. Well, now he was just confused.

  Wistfully, he thought again on the mystery lady of last night. She’d dashed away before he could get a number, or even a name. Ordinarily, he’d hope to see her again in the same place, but something told him she was hardly a regular at the kind of seedy bars he’d been in last night. There was something a bit too sweet and prim about her, and it had been pretty clear she didn’t hold hard liquor all that well.

  Heath felt a surge of heat in his pants as he remembered the pretty pink blush that had colored her cheeks as she’d looked up at him, big green eyes blinking, kissable lips breathlessly parted, ample breasts pressed up against him.

  Heath swallowed. At the thought, his lion lay down again, half-closing its eyes contentedly and even purring a little.

  Weird.

  Frustrated, Heath turned and began jogging back toward his rented apartment. It was nothing fancy, but he didn’t need anything fancy. He suspected he’d feel uncomfortable in anything bigger or plusher. It had a kitchen, a shower, and a bed. What more did a man need?

  Despite the hard run, Heath was barely tired and made it back in record time, probably literally. There was a reason shifters tended to stay away from competitive sports, or if they did play, they toned down their abilities significantly. They’d always be bigger, faster, and stronger than humans. It just came with the territory.

  Slamming the apartment door closed behind him, Heath went to the fridge and grabbed the OJ, chugging it straight from the carton.

  Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and walking to his bedroom, Heath groaned as he saw a missed call notification flashing on his cell phone. There was really only one person that could be – his mother.

  He hadn’t lived at home since he’d gone into the army over a decade ago, and it was clear his mom was not enjoying being an empty nester. For a while she’d channeled her maternal instincts into coddling the shit out of his younger cousin, Casey, but now that he’d turned eighteen, the pride had decided it was time for him to stand on his own two feet and be less of a spoiled brat.

  So without Casey around to fuss over and Heath’s sisters all with mates and cubs of their own now, the full force of his mother’s desire to see everyone all paired up and with at least fifteen cubs each was focused squarely on him. It was like being pinned under the Eye of Sauron.

  “Heath, sweetheart, it’s your mother. Call and let me know how you’re getting on in the big city, now won’t you? I just want to make sure you’re looking after yourself, seeing as –”

  Groaning, Heath hit the button to skip the rest of the message. He’d feel bad about it, but his mom had left some variation of the same message every single day since he’d come here. There were only so many times he could say Yeah Mom, I’m eating enough, no Mom, I’m not hungover right now, and No, Mom, I haven’t started looking for my mate yet.

  As he thought over the last in this list of things he had to say to his mom, his lion suddenly sat up again, growling.

  What the fuck is your problem? Heath snapped at it, getting frustrated. An ornery lion was the last thing he needed right now.

  A mate could wait. He had a thousand things he wanted to see and do first. Even though having a mate seemed pretty awesome in a lot of ways.

  Mason – his cousin and the sheriff of Coldstream County – had found his mate last year. Her name was Charity, and a quality woman she was, too – she ran her own diner and could hold her own in a barroom brawl; she wasn’t the type of woman to take shit from anybody. She and Mason were ideally suited, and they’d be hearing the pitter-patter of tiny paws around their house soon enough. Mason had sounded over the moon when he’d called Heath to tell him Charity was pregnant.

  A few years ago, Heath couldn’t have imagined Mason as a father, but he’d settled into the role with gusto. He couldn’t wait for his cub to arrive. After he and Charity had found each other, everything had just fallen into place for him. He’d never been happier.

  For a moment, Heath found himself almost tempted by the idea – before he quickly pushed the thought away. A mate was for later, once he’d established himself. No matter how happy Mason and Charity seemed.

  As if by magic, Heath’s phone began ringing, and his cousin’s name showed up on the caller ID. Heath couldn’t help b
ut grin – maybe it wasn’t all that surprising. There was, after all, evidence for some limited psychic abilities in shifters, which would certainly explain mating bonds. But shifters were, as a rule, secretive, and reluctant to submit to experimentation by humans. And if there were any shifter scientists out there working on it, Heath had never heard about it.

  “Hey, Mason,” he said, answering the call. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Oh, really? Maybe you can tell me what I’m thinking right now, then – it starts with ‘c’ and ends in ‘all your mother’.”

  Heath groaned. “Has she been bothering you guys?”

  “Yes! I swear, if you don’t call her, she’s going to make me file a missing persons report on you. Just fucking call her, dude!”

  “I called her the day before yesterday,” Heath fired back. “Are the two of you in cahoots to drive me batshit insane now? Is that what you’re doing?”

  “No,” Mason said. “But seriously – at least text her. Or tell her not to call here anymore. Charity needs to be staying off her feet, not answering the phone every three minutes.”

  Heath shook his head. He couldn’t imagine even a heavy pregnancy slowing Charity down. “Fine, I’ll tell her. I’m sorry she’s been bothering you.”

  “Apology accepted,” Mason said. “Honestly, she was starting to get me worried. She made it sound like she hadn’t heard from you in a month. Do you have a job yet?”

  “Yeah. Private security. I mean, I’m new, so I haven’t been given an assignment yet –”

  “Private security?” Mason sounded disapproving, but Heath could have predicted that. Mason was a cop, after all. Still, his tone made Heath bristle.

  “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “You know I don’t really like the idea of civilians doing jobs that the cops should be taking care of,” Mason said.