He kissed her again. "I'm sure," he said. "I've been sure since the moment I laid eyes on you, Annabeth."
"Oh." It was her turn to kiss him now.
The feeling of her soft lips nibbling on him made him want to roll her on her back and make love to her again.
"Go back to sleep," he said, reluctantly, when she finally drew back and cushioned her head on his shoulder. "I know you have an early start."
She yawned and hugged him with the arm she had thrown over his torso.
"You make me really happy, Dane," she murmured and let her eyes drift shut.
Dane lay awake for a while longer, thinking.
His inner bear's restlessness had stilled for the first time in weeks, content now that they had made love to their mate.
But Dane found that the man and the bear were still at war.
How could someone so wrong for him feel, smell, and taste so right?
Annabeth was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman—kind, funny, and sweetly curvy in a way that had made him want to tear her clothes off and carry her to his bed the first time he saw her.
But she wasn't a shifter. Worse yet, she didn't know about shifters. Didn't know that most of the people in Bearpaw Ridge were shifters.
Now that he had laid his claim on his fated mate and she had accepted him, Dane knew he had to tell her, and sooner rather than later. And hope to God she could accept him, all of him.
Just not tonight.
Tonight, he wanted to savor the sensation of lying in bed with his mate in the sweet afterglow of their lovemaking, enjoying her wonderful scent and the touch of her bare skin against his, his mouth filled with the sweet, tangy taste of her pleasure.
Ours, rumbled his bear silently. Forever.
But Dane wasn't so sure. He remembered the last time he had had anything close to this. And how his final memory of Tanya was the shocked, betrayed, terrified expression on her face.
She had run out of the house right after he revealed himself to her. His heart had broken with the sound of her car door slamming as she peeled away.
He had finally gathered the courage to tell her the truth about what he was, despite his mother's dire warnings, and she had rejected him and run away.
Would Annabeth run, too? Dane wondered. Would she think he was a monster and leave him, like Tanya had?
He turned his head and gazed down at Annabeth's face, peaceful in sleep.
When she knew the truth about what he was, would she still trust him enough to fall asleep against him like this, relaxed and utterly vulnerable?
Chapter 12 – Secretive
The next day was a very good day, with Kayla staffing the front of the bakery and the prospect of dinner with Dane to brighten the end of the day.
Annabeth found herself humming as she worked, and she realized that she couldn't remember ever being this happy.
She had sore muscles and tender spots to remind her about how amazing the sex had been last night…tender and fierce, gentle and hard by turns.
And she couldn't get over Dane, her amazing new boyfriend, and the way he acted as if he was grateful for her, rather than making her feel like she had to prove that she deserved him.
It was hard to get her head around this new relationship dynamic, but she liked it.
The hours flew by. When afternoon rolled around and the steady flow of customers dried to an occasional visitor, Annabeth and Kayla started on the end-of-day chores to clean up and prep everything for the following morning.
Emerging from the storeroom, Annabeth saw Kayla casually lifting the Hobart and moving it aside to sweep behind it.
She stopped dead and stared at her assistant.
Kayla was a big, athletic-looking girl, but still, the Hobart probably weighed three or four times what she did.
Is everyone in Bearpaw Ridge freakishly strong?
Annabeth waited until Kayla had gently lowered the Hobart back to the bakery's tiled floor before she said, "Please put that back when you're done cleaning, or I'll bump into it every time I need something from the storeroom."
Kayla jumped and whirled around, a guilty expression on her face. Her face turned bright red.
"Let me guess, Dane has you wrestling calves in your spare time?" Annabeth asked, still trying to process what she had just seen.
Kayla stared at her blankly for a moment.
"Uh, what exactly has he told you about our family?" she finally asked, her tone wary.
Annabeth blinked, surprised both by Kayla's reaction and by her question.
"Not too much," she admitted. "I know he's got four brothers who are all firefighters like him, that his dad passed away a few years ago, and that he's managing the family ranch."
"Oh." Kayla seemed disappointed.
Annabeth frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Kayla, what’s going on? What's the big secret?"
Kayla looked suddenly stricken. "I can't tell you!" she blurted out. "You'll have to ask Dane."
"All right," Annabeth said, using her most soothing tones while she wondered what the hell was going on.
She'd noticed a few odd things here and there since arriving in Bearpaw Ridge, but she had mostly just ignored them, because they didn't seem like a big deal…just a little weird.
Then a terrible thought ambushed her.
"Just tell me—is it bad news?" She swallowed down nausea as conviction mushroomed. She had never been to the ranch, never seen Dane's house. And she only had his cell number, not his landline… "Dane—he isn't married, is he?"
"What?" Kayla exclaimed, looking shocked. "Of course not! Dane would never cheat on his ma—uh, girlfriend."
A rush of relief made Annabeth feel dizzy. "Good," she breathed.
She continued, "And he's not a serial killer or anything?"
Kayla giggled, looking equally relieved. "Nope."
Annabeth considered this. "Well, then, I guess I can wait for him to confess all," she said.
"I wish he would," Kayla said fervently. "There's some stuff—not illegal, or anything," she added hastily at Annabeth's raised brows, "but important stuff he needs to tell you. And we're all getting tired of tiptoeing around it."
"What on earth—" Annabeth began, but Kayla shook her head.
"Just ask Dane. Please."
As it turned out, Annabeth didn't see Dane that evening or for the next three days.
Lightning sparked the first big wildfire of the season in the dry Bureau of Land Management, or BLM, lands that lay east of town. The Bearpaw Ridge Fire Department's crew of volunteer firefighters were called out to assist the BLM wildland firefighters.
Dane texted Annabeth to apologize for canceling their dinner date, which was nice of him but unnecessary, since Annabeth and everyone else in town could see the huge clouds of smoke billowing from the ridge on the other side of the valley.
That ridge and the rest of the spectacular mountain views quickly disappeared from view behind a sullen brown haze that closed in around Bearpaw Ridge as the hours passed.
The afternoon sun turned a shade of twilight orange, an effect Annabeth had experienced during similar wildfires in California, which shrouded the Bay Area in smoke every couple of years.
Fred Barker's wife Linda came around about an hour before the bakery closed, asking for donations to feed the firefighters.
She was a dark-haired woman in her late forties, with vivid blue eyes and a sweet smile.
"My youngest two—they're twins—just got their drivers' licenses," she explained. "Emma and Sophie are planning to drive up to the staging area first thing tomorrow morning and deliver breakfast and boxed lunches. The Bear's Lair Pizza and Pasta delivered lunch and dinner today—lasagna, spaghetti, garlic bread, and salad. The Brown Bear Market is donating sandwich fixings and fruit for tomorrow's lunch, and the Bearpaw Brewing Company is donating cases of bottled water and sodas. The Bear-B-Q Pit will be sending up spareribs and pulled pork with all the fixings for tomorrow's di
nner, but we need something for breakfast."
Annabeth thought of Dane, Evan, Mark, Fred, and all the other firefighters she had come to know over the past few weeks.
"I can supply breakfast pastries and snacks," she offered. "I could make a batch of turnovers filled with scrambled egg, ham, and cheese, plus cinnamon rolls and Danishes. Brownies, lemon bars, and cookies for snacks. And I'll have my two big coffee urns ready to go. What time would you need everything ready for pickup, and for how many?"
"There are about sixty firefighters up on the ridge right now, including our boys, the BLM crews, and volunteers from the Salmon and Challis Fire Departments. If you're willing and able to provide for that many, that would be wonderful," Linda said with a breathtaking smile. "Especially the coffee and cinnamon rolls. I imagine that Fred and the others will be working all night to try and control the fire. I'll send girls around at 6:00 a.m."
Annabeth nodded. "I'll have everything ready to go by then," she promised.
She poured a cup of coffee and offered it to Linda, who was probably facing a sleepless night herself. "Have you heard any news? Is everyone okay?"
Linda accepted the coffee with a grateful smile and shook her head. "Not since they went out of cell range. It's a big fire, but as long as the wind keeps blowing from the west, we should be okay." Annabeth saw the other woman take a deep breath. "And no was transported to the hospital in Salmon during my shift as emergency dispatcher, so I'm hoping that means no one's been hurt."
"I hope so, too," breathed Annabeth, trying not to think about Dane—or his brothers—surrounded by burning trees.
He's not alone out there. He's got the rest of the BPRFD and the BLM crews with him.
But she still worried.
Kayla and Annabeth kept the bakery closed for the first part of the following morning. With most of the Bearpaw Ridge FD out in the field, there were only a few early birds to disappoint.
While Annabeth made the breakfast pastries, both sweet and savory, that she had promised Linda, Kayla brewed gallons of coffee and packed up the food along with disposable insulated cups, sugar, creamer, and stir-sticks to accompany the huge insulated urns of coffee.
Normally the coffee would be brewed on-site, but Kayla had told her that the firefighters' base camp probably wouldn't be equipped with power outlets or reliable running water, so they had decided to prepare everything ahead of time and hope for the best.
When Fred's twin daughters turned up promptly at six, both teenaged girls slender and blonde and fragile-looking, Annabeth nervously eyed the big urns, which were filled to the brim with hot coffee.
"Do you need a hand—" Annabeth began, just as Emma lifted one of the big coffee urns from the counter as if it weighed nothing.
"I'm okay," Emma assured Annabeth in a breezy tone as she easily gathered up the second urn in her other arm.
Annabeth gaped at the display of raw strength. Was this what growing up in the mountains did for people?
She had bought those two urns to use if she was ever asked to cater an event. They were at least four times the size of the Airpot thermal carafes she used for her daily operations, and when filled, weighed at least sixty pounds each, if not more.
Sophie, equally fragile-looking, lifted the entire stack of bakery boxes, each box filled with pastries.
"Maybe you could open the door for us?" she suggested cheerfully. "Thanks a million, Annabeth. I know how much Dad likes your cinnamon rolls."
Don't stare. Act normal, Annabeth told herself.
"If you see Dane, will you tell him 'Hi' from me?" Annabeth asked, holding open the bakery's front door as Emily and Sophie passed by with their burdens.
A large red pickup was parked in front of the bakery, its truck bed already filled with shrink-wrapped flats of bottled water and cans of soda as well as big cardboard boxes filled to the brim with boxed lunches.
"We will!" Sophie assured Annabeth as she helped her sister hook bungee cords around the coffee urns to keep them upright and in place as they drove up what would probably be a fairly bumpy dirt road to the staging area.
"Wait a sec," Annabeth said. "I almost forgot—I wasn't sure if you two had a chance to grab any breakfast yet, so I made a couple of extra ham-and-cheese turnovers for you."
"Yum! Thank you!" the twins chorused, as Annabeth ducked back inside the bakery and hastily wrapped up the breakfast pastries in waxed paper for them.
Stay safe, Dane. Please, Annabeth thought as the laden pickup truck pulled away from the curb and headed out of town.
Like everyone else in Bearpaw Ridge, Annabeth kept an eye on the wind over the next few days, praying it wouldn't shift and drive the fire towards people's homes and businesses.
She and Kayla continued to open the bakery two hours later than usual, using the first few hours of the morning to prepare coffee and breakfast for delivery to the firefighters.
Emma and Sophie came by twice a day, in the mornings to pick up the food and coffee, then returning around dinnertime to deliver the empty coffee urns for cleaning and refilling. They also brought updates about the progress of the firefighting efforts and let Annabeth know that they'd seen Dane, but he had been working and was too busy to do more than say a quick "Hi."
Still, even that little bit of news helped loosen the knot of anxiety in Annabeth's stomach. Dane was safe. That was all that mattered.
The fire was officially controlled on the morning of the fourth day, and exhausted firefighters slowly began trickling into town around lunchtime as their teams were demobilized.
When news of the demobilization reached them, Kayla helped Annabeth decorate several of the tables in the café area with streamers and a couple of plastic firefighters' hats scavenged from Halloween costumes. They bought poster board and made a big sign to hang in the café's front window:
Thank you BPRFD and BLM Firefighters! Free coffee and pastries!!
Throughout the afternoon, the bakery hosted a steady stream of tired, grimy men and women dressed in firefighters' turnout gear, and Kayla was kept busy serving them with complimentary pastries and drinks.
Annabeth tried to concentrate on her work, but she was waiting anxiously for her phone to ring.
Fred Barker and his sons stopped by briefly to apologize for the delay in starting the rewiring job and to assure her that now that the fire was contained, they would begin working on the bakery later in the week.
She saw other volunteer Bearpaw Ridge firefighters that she knew, but no sign of Dane or his brothers.
When she heard the tinkle of the bakery's doorbell in the late afternoon, and the sound of familiar male voices, she abandoned the mixer she was cleaning out and dashed to the front of the bakery even before she heard Kayla call for her.
"Dane!" She felt a rush of relief at the sight of his tired, stubbled face.
He looked up at her voice and opened his arms wide while Mark and Evan grinned at her.
She flew into his embrace and kissed him thoroughly, to the sound of approving whistles.
Dane was dressed in bunker pants and a sweat-stained navy blue T-shirt with "Property of Bearpaw Ridge FD" written across the chest in white lettering. He smelled of smoke and dust layered over sweat, and she was overjoyed to see him.
"I'm glad you're okay," she whispered. "I missed you."
His big arms tightened around her. "Missed you, too, sweetheart. I'm dying for a cup of coffee, and then I have to go home to take care of a few things, but I want to come back and have dinner with you. Is that okay?"
"More than okay. I'm just glad you're back," she assured him.
That got her another long kiss, deliciously needy and spiced with the scrape of stubble against her lips and cheeks.
When he finally released her, her heart was pounding, and the place between her legs was throbbing with need. And there were still several hours to go before dinnertime…
Evan sighed. "Ah, young love. So sweet,"
he said sarcastically.
Annabeth's cheeks grew hot, but she stayed where she was and just smiled at Dane's younger brother. "Be nice, or I'm going to run out of pastries before I get to you. Too bad, so sad."
Evan clapped his hand over his heart and staggered dramatically backwards, as if he'd been punched, while Mark and Dane both laughed.
Annabeth noticed that Evan was wearing a jester's hat, the velvet points limp and grimy and festooned with jingle bells.
"Nice hat," she commented.
Dane chuckled.
"Tell her what it is," he urged Evan, who rolled his eyes and shook his head, making the bells ring.
Mark said, "It's the Departmental Fool Award, presented to any BPRFD firefighter who does a spectacularly dumb thing while out on a call."
"Oh?" Annabeth raised her brows in Evan's direction. "And what did you do to win the award?"
Evan's face was suddenly looking flushed under the layer of dirt.
"All right, all right," he said, putting up his hands. "I was a dumb-ass, okay? I left the tanker truck in neutral when we, uh, exited the vehicle—"
"—which wouldn't have been so bad, except he also forgot to set the parking brake," interjected a grinning Mark.
"—I heard yelling when I started walking over to the staging area," Evan continued, glumly. "I turned around just in time to see the tanker rolling backwards down the hill."
"And it didn't stop until it T-boned a state trooper's car parked about a quarter-mile down the road," finished Dane, dropping into one of the café's chairs with a weary sigh. "Luckily, the officer wasn't in his car at the time."
Mark shook his head with fake sympathy as he seated himself next to Dane. "Our little brother was so excited about fighting a real fire that he completely forgot how to park a vehicle. Luckily for him—and us—there's only minor damage to the tanker. The cop car…well, that's another story."
"Well, I'm glad no one was hurt," Annabeth said, trying not to laugh at Evan's woebegone expression under the jester's hat.
Inspiration struck her. "Wait here—I have a special treat for you, Evan."
"Wait just a minute there," Dane hollered after her in mock indignation as she rounded the counter and headed for the back of the bakery. "How come he gets a treat for messing up?"
Heat: A Werebear + BBW Paranormal Romance (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 1) Page 10