Maybelle was sitting across the room, with her back to them.
“Sorry, Blanche. Hi. What’s up with your bff?” Coral asked.
“The old coot is mad at me, because I told her there’s just something off about that new man she’s dating, and now she’s sulking,” Blanche said. “She had the nerve to accuse me of being jealous.”
As if on cue, the old coot in question got up and stalked over to them. “All those years that you got all the menfolk, and finally I find me a decent man, and you can’t stand it, can you?” Maybelle’s face was flushed with fury. “Tell me one thing that you think is off about him. One thing.”
Blanche shook her head, fiddling with her purse strap. “It’s just a feeling, Maybelle. My instincts are never wrong. That man is trouble.”
“The only thing wrong with him is he likes me better than you. Eat your heart out!” And Maybelle marched off, head held high.
“Don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart, you old fool!” Blanche yelled after her.
Were the stars mis-aligned, or something? Coral wondered. Why was everyone’s love life in suck city right now?
“Please tell me you found out something about the disappearances,” she said.
“I’m not sure if this is anything, but I did find out something interesting about the population explosion of shifters,” Blanche said. “Apparently, there’s been some speculation about the involvement of Archibald’s comet.”
“How so?” Coral asked, leaning back in her chair.
“Well, Archibald’s comet appeared maybe a year before the first big wave of shifters was discovered. Suddenly, people who’d been human all their lives were able to shift. And as we know now, those shifters became the parents of more shifters, like their genetic makeup had been altered. Some research seems to indicate that the changes started happening right after the comet passed by, and most of the shifters tried to keep it quiet for a while until it was just too obvious. It happened all over the world, but the biggest population explosion happened in Blue Moon Junction.”
“So how would the comet have caused that?”
“There’s a possibility that the comet’s meteor shower had some kind of cosmic radiation which caused a flare-up in the ley-line’s power.”
“The comet is coming again in a couple of days,” Coral said thoughtfully. “Is it possible that every time the comet passes by the earth, it’s meteor shower would cause a ley-line flare up?”
“Well, since the comet only comes by every 164 years, it’s hard to say,” Blanche said. “When it came by in the 1600s, there were no humans living in that area of Blue Moon Junction; it hadn’t been settled yet. So there’s no way to know what kind of effect it had then. And if it caused a surge of shifters in other parts of the world in the past, they obviously kept it hidden so they wouldn’t be run out of their villages with torches and pitchforks. And now, two descendants of Original Shifters have disappeared, right before the comet is due to pass by.”
“Well, that is interesting. I’ll tell Mr. Brewster about it, and see if there’s any way to work it into the story,” Coral said. “Of course, there’s nobody living out there in the area where the three ley lines converge, so it’s possible it will have no effect at all this time.”
Blanche stood up to go. “If you do any more snooping, you better call me,” she said. “It’s getting dangerous out there. It sounds like things are starting to heat up around here.”
“I will do that,” Coral promised.
After Blanche left, Frederick glanced over at her. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
She shrugged, turning on her computer and grabbing the stack of obituaries from the wire basket on her desk.
“Eh.” She tried to sound indifferent.
“You can’t go investigate on their property, you know. They could have you arrested.”
“Only if they catch me,” she said in a low voice, glancing around. “I’m a wolf. And I run fast. If they see a wolf on the property, in the unlikely event they even stop me, how would they know whether it’s a shifter and not a real wolf?”
“They’re likely to shoot first and ask questions later,” he said.
She shrugged unhappily. She could still see the haunted look on Molly Friedman’s, and Mrs. Kirby’s faces. She couldn’t imagine having a family member disappear. She had to help them.
“I don’t know that the publisher is going to agree to let you trespass,” he said.
“Then don’t tell him. I’m not planning on telling anyone else. I’ve got to go, Frederick. There are people missing, and nobody is helping them. The police might even be in on it. I don’t trust anyone at this point.”
“All right, then I’m coming with you,” he said.
“What?”
“I can sling a camera around my neck before I shift. Safety in numbers, right? And if there’s anything there, you’ll need proof. You know how Mr. Brewster is. He won’t print anything without proof.”
She considered that. “I guess you’re right, but you do understand that what we’d be doing is both dangerous and illegal?” she said.
“Yeah, yeah. I eat danger for breakfast.”
“You eat way too many jelly donuts for breakfast, but okay. I appreciate it,” she said.
The rest of the afternoon went uneventfully, and Coral stopped by the grocery store on her way back to the house.
Her stomach tightened in a knot when she realized that Flint was there with several other bear shifters, who she recognized from the family brochure. One of them was his mother, Blue McCoy. That had been her nickname since she was a young child, because of her love of blueberries, and she’d grown up to be an award winning maker of blueberry jam.
The McCoys were in the produce aisle, piling fresh corn into baskets. Coral turned and tried to slink away before she was spotted, but it was too late.
“Hello, Coral,” Flint called out.
She pasted a big fake smile on her face and turned as if she’d just seen him.
“Oh, Flint! How are you?”
His mother’s face lit up as Coral walked up to them. A teenaged bear shifter girl, tall and pretty, looked over Coral curiously, and a grade school aged bear shifter leaned over and sniffed her hand. Flint, flushing, grabbed the young boy and pulled him away.
“Stop that, Rupert!” he scolded. He shook his head apologetically at Coral. “My family. They’re nothing but a bunch of animals.”
“Coral! You’re the young lady he’s been talking about non-stop. You simply must have dinner with us tonight,” Blue said.
Flint actually blushed, which nearly made Coral laugh out loud. Ha! The bear was blushing!
“Well, I, ah”- she said, trying to think of an excuse.
“So we’ll see you at 6 p.m.?” Blue said. “Is there anything in particular that you like?”
“My mom can cook anything,” Flint bragged, glowing with pride. “She’s the best cook in all of Florida.”
“Oh, now don’t be boastful!” his mother smacked his arm affectionately. “I’m sure Miss Coral here is no slouch in the kitchen herself.”
“Actually, the sad truth is that I pretty much heat up everything out of a can,” Coral said. “It’s not my mother’s fault. She’s an excellent cook, and I was always kind of a bookworm in school. I never really made the time to learn how to cook.”
“Well, it’s settled then. We’ll make a nice beef stroganoff, and I’ll teach you how.”
Crud, she thought. How could she refuse an invitation like that? And from a big cuddly bear like Blue?
“All right,” she said. “Well, if I’m not imposing…”
“Nonsense! We’d love to have you. And it’s important for a young lady to know how to cook. After all, some day you’ll want to get married and have cubs. And you’ll have to be able to feed the family, right? Of course, you can borrow my recipe book any time,” Blue said cheerfully.
Coral could have sworn that the woman glanced
significantly at Flint when she mentioned getting married and having cubs.
Good lord, did this woman know her mother? Had they been secretly conversing? She wouldn’t put it past them. There was nothing like a shifter mama determined to marry off her children.
Flint shot her a look of amusement over his shoulder as he walked away. Dang it. Ganged up on by bears. She didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter Twelve
Flint’s family lived in a three-story white clapboard-sided house, with a wraparound porch and a rooster weathervane. A construction crew was working on the house, adding another wing to it. They seemed to be working into the night, with floodlights illuminating their workspace.
Flint greeted her at the door, wearing jeans and a t-shirt that showed off the swell of his biceps. He pulled Coral to him and crushed her in a bear hug, and then brushed his lips against hers for a quick, delicious kiss.
Damn the bear, it was hard to stay angry at him when he always looked good enough to eat, smelled like honey, and was so sexy she wanted to kiss him all over.
“We’re still at an impasse,” she informed him. “And I’m still mad at you for snitching on me to the sheriff’s office.”
“I’ll make you change your mind. I have my ways,” he grinned.
She followed him in to the house, and he led her into the kitchen. It was a chef’s dream kitchen. It was so big that her entire New York studio apartment could have fit in it. Twice.
There was a flagstone floor, a butcher block kitchen island bigger than a dining room table, and banks of hand crafted wooden cabinets with wrought iron handles. The gas stove had eight burners. The refrigerator was industrial sized, and there was a freezer right next to it. Bears were known for their hearty appetites. Coral was certainly down with that.
Blue, and the pretty young teenager who must have been Flint’s younger sister, were waiting for her in the kitchen.
There was a tray of delicious sticky honeybuns on the kitchen island, and a pot of tea and another pot of coffee brewing, which they urged on her. The teenager was introduced as Jemma.
I could get used to this, Coral thought.
Flint came in the kitchen. “I thought I’d help cook.”
“Since when?” his younger sister asked. “Oh, I get it,” she added knowingly. “You just want to be close to Coral. Because you loooove her.”
“Mom!” A furious Flint bellowed. He sounded like a mortified teenager.
Coral burst into laughter, and she saw Flint’s cheeks redden again. This was beautiful. Now she was really glad she’d come.
“Now, Jemma,” Blue chastised, as she pulled tubs of sour cream from the refrigerator and set them on the counter.
“This is my grandmother’s recipe,” she confided to Coral. “You’ll love it. I already made a copy of it for you.” She handed Coral an index card, which had a printed picture of pies on top of it. The recipe had been written on it in curly blue pen.
Coral tucked it in her purse.
Small town living suddenly didn’t seem so bad.
“Flint talks about you all the time. He says you’ve got the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. And he loves your hair. And he thinks you smell like honey and blueberries,” Jemma continued.
Flint let out a roar of anger and went charging after her, and she fled the room.
He came back in grumbling, and sat down at a bar stool by the butcher block island, helping himself to a honey bun.
Several other bear cub shifter children of varying ages wandering in to the kitchen, standing there and staring at Coral shyly, until Blue shooed them out.
The rest of the evening went swimmingly. They ate dinner in the huge dining room, at a table set for twenty. Several of Flint’s cousins and their families were there, as well as Flint and his family.
Coral sat next to Flint, with Blue on her other side. Flint’s father was an older version of Flint, with a thick head of gray hair and glasses. He and Blue actually held hands under the table, and Coral felt a wave of envy roll over her. What must it be like, to still be so in love after decades of marriage?
Other than the fact that Blue kept dropping heavy handed hints about how great Flint was with his younger brother and sister cubs, and what a wonderful father he’d make, and how New York was so dangerous and it was a good thing that Coral was here in Blue Moon where it was safe, it wasn’t awkward at all.
After dinner, Coral thanked Blue for a lovely meal, and Blue promptly invited her back the next night.
“Flint will be here, won’t you, dear?” she said, patting her son on the arm.
“I might have to cover a school board meeting,” Coral said.
“Mom, let the poor girl breathe,” Flint chided. “She’ll come back for dinner again, I promise.”
As they climbed in Flint’s car, Coral’s phone rang.
“Hello, mother, I’m kind of busy right now. Can I call you tomorrow?” she said as Flint started up the car.
“So, he already took you to meet his mother? That’s a good sign!” her mother said.
“Good God in Heaven, mother, how did you know that?”
“Word gets around.”
“To New York? Are you and Flint’s mother secretly conspiring here?”
“Oh, that’s a great idea!” her mother said happily, with no sarcasm whatsoever. “Do you have her number?”
“No! She doesn’t have a phone! She’s a bear, she lives in a treehouse! With no phone service!” Coral hung up in exasperation.
Flint was laughing at her.
“A treehouse?” he said.
“She makes me crazy,” Coral grumbled. “Hey, why are we pulling up in front of your house?’
“You’re spending the night.”
“I am not! I demand you take me home!”
“It’s not safe. So, no.”
He got out, walked around, and opened her door for her.
“I can sling you over my shoulder and carry you in, if that’s what it takes.”
“You big, macho jerk! Stupid bear!”
“Stubborn wolf. Do I need to pull you out of the car? I’m not taking no for an answer.” He stood there, looming over her. It was starting to rain, little sprinkles pattering on the car’s windshield, and big dark clouds bunched overhead in the night sky promised another mini tropical gale.
Scowling, she scrambled out of the car and followed him inside, where he led her to the living room.
“This is ridiculous,” she said, sinking into an obscenely comfortable overstuffed leather couch. “I didn’t bring a change of clothes, either. And by the way I’m still mad at you.”
“I’ll get you a nightshirt to sleep in.”
The air was chilling again with the evening rainstorm. Flint walked over to the flagstone fireplace and started building a fire. The room had been decorated with a masculine touch, with dark cherry wood bookcases, a collection of antique guns displayed on the wall, and dark leather furniture.
She was alone under the same roof with Flint McCoy. That never ended well. Or it ended very well, depending on how you looked at it.
Still, she thought, leaning back into the couch’s yielding softness, after meeting Flint’s family and seeing how he interacted with them, she couldn’t believe he was up to anything nefarious.
She’d been teetering between wondering if he was somehow involved with the shifter disappearances and thinking that he must be there to investigate them. Now she was leaning strongly towards thinking that he was there to investigate. A man who loved his family as much as he did wouldn’t tear another family apart by kidnapping someone, would he?
“Try this brandy,” Flint said, handing her a crystal snifter. She took a sip, and tried not to moan aloud at the delicious sensation of warmth that spread through her.
He settled down next to her and took a sip of brandy from his own glass. She could feel his body heat radiating from him, and that smell of male musk tickled her nostrils. She drew it in slowly, savoring it.
“How often do you come back to Blue Moon Junction?” she asked him.
“Not often enough, according to my family. On holidays, and usually for a few weeks over the summer. I travel a lot for my business. So what are your plans after you leave Blue Moon Junction?” he asked.
“I guess go back to New York, work on a big newspaper. I don’t know. What about you?”
“I don’t know. Originally I was sure I’d go back to Seattle, but I do miss being close to my family. They’re asking me to stay here.”
Coral felt a sharp tug of longing. Was he hinting? What did he want her to say?
“They’re wonderful,” she said. “I can understand how you’d want to stay close to them. “
She took another sip of brandy and shuddered in pleasure. “Mmmm,” she murmured. “Delicious.”
Flint set down his cup of brandy.
“Do you know what it does to me when you do that?” he demanded.
“Do what?” she asked innocently.
“The way you look when you’re drinking that brandy…I’m actually jealous of a glass of liquor right now. I want you to look at me like that.”
The fire crackled and popped, and she felt a wave of warmth sweeping over her. She squirmed in her seat and tugged at the neckline of her shirt. “Is it hot in here?” she murmured. She set down her glass of brandy next to his.
“Is it? Maybe we should get some of those clothes off of you,” he growled. Before she could protest he’d pulled her to him and bent down, claiming her mouth in a devouring kiss.
She found herself kissing back, pressing against him. She couldn’t help herself; she loved the feeling of his strong, muscular body. She’d always felt so big and ungainly next to her dates. She should have realized the solution long ago: date a bear.
He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her up against him, and she found herself flattened against the wall with his tongue swirling around hers in an intimate duet.
Hot desire washed over her, and an urge to know once and for all what his cock tasted like.
She pulled away from the kiss slowly, and sank down to her knees onto the fluffy sheepskin rug that was spread out in front of the sofa. His huge erection was straining at the fabric of his jeans, and she ran her fingers along it, tracing the outline of it as he yanked open his belt.
Hard To Bear Page 10