by Marie Mason
HER BAH HUMBUG BEAR
COPYRIGHT 2016 BY
MARIE MASON
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
FIND ME/FOLLOW ME
BOOKS BY MARIE MASON
CHAPTER ONE
“I’LL TAKE THAT one.”
Dirk Stockwell turned around at the softly whispered words. Almost immediately, the bear inside him rose up and a muted roar sounded inside his head. He barely resisted putting his hands over his ears to drown out the noise. It wouldn’t help. The bear was a part of him, something he’d had since he was born. Didn’t mean he had to like the mangy creature.
Especially when it was forcing Dirk to feel things he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Hunger, cold, loneliness and all in the space of a heartbeat.
Or maybe it wasn’t his bear that had suddenly flicked on his emotional switch. Maybe it was the woman with the sunset hair and chocolate brown eyes standing before him.
“Umm, are you okay?”
He saw her lips move and lowered his hands, somewhat embarrassed by the reaction he’d had.
“I’m fine, what can I do for you?”
She tucked a strand of that beautiful hair behind her ear, her hand wrapped in a pink mitten. “Is that one taken?” she asked.
“No.” Even if it had been, Dirk would have made damn sure this woman went home with the tree and not some other shopper. There was something about her that immediately made him want to go out and kill a buck and lay it at her feet. An animalistic impulse he had never felt before.
It was flashing through him as quickly as the urge to push her to her knees and mount her from behind. Fuck her until neither of them could stand.
He felt the surge of power of his animal as it tried to push forward. That surprised him almost as much as the other sensations suddenly flooding him. Except for the primitive need to eat and sleep, he’d felt separated from his bear for years. Ever since…
No, he wasn’t going there again. He’d made what peace he could with that time in his life.
Stepping forward he grabbed the tree and started toward the front of the tree lot, trying his damnedest to ignore the woman who had suddenly appeared in his life.
Mercy Thompson didn’t know what had given her the courage to speak to the intimidating man on the tree lot. Yes, the tree he was standing by had captured her attention but there were other trees just as interesting. Just as beautiful. She was not a forward woman, having been raised by an aunt who had yet to join the twenty-first century when it came to love and sex and all things illicit.
And the man before her definitely made her think of illicit things.
As she watched, the man picked up the tree she wanted and walked away, his broad shoulders blocking out the breeze that had started to blow about the same time Mercy had stepped onto the lot. It was wintertime in Riverton, Colorado. A time when the thermometer barely made it past freezing some days. She felt every one of the low digits today.
The wind ruffled his brown hair, tossing it over his forehead in wicked disarray, making him look dangerous, exciting, and handsome. Three things Mercy had no business even thinking about.
The man in front of her was big, bigger than any other male she’d ever seen. Even the sheriff who had, upon occasion, felt it necessary to give her a warning about her lead foot. Mercy might be on the shy and awkward side when she was standing on her own two feet, but put her behind the wheel of a car, and she became a different person. Maybe it was because she knew, should she ever decide, a car could take her away from this small town. Take her away before it became her final resting place, just as it had her aunt’s, not even a week before.
Some might have spoken harshly at her behavior today in purchasing a Christmas tree when her aunt hadn’t yet turned cold in her grave, but Mercy was done living her life under the harsh rules her aunt had insisted that she follow. Her aunt hadn’t been a bad person. Just one unwilling to take chances. Mercy hoped she hadn’t left it too late to take her first chance.
Her breath caught in the back of her throat as the man looked at her. His eyes were gray, a rainy day gray. A sad, melancholy color that tugged at her heart because that color perfectly matched the aura surrounding the man.
Or bear shifter, she should say. Before her parents had died and she’d moved in with her aunt as a teenager, Mercy had never known any type of shifter. Riverton tended to attract bears more frequently than any other kind. But, she’d gone to school with a fox and a cougar and more than one wolf.
She took a step backwards. Bears were usually the easiest going of the shifters. They were also the fiercest when angered. She couldn’t tell if this bear’s expression was due to anger or resignation at having to wait on her. Something inside of her said it was the latter.
“Could you help me put that in my car, please?”
“Sure, that’s what I’m here for.” He stopped walking and allowed her to proceed in front of her. Mercy tried not to think about what he was seeing. Her large thighs rubbing together, the coat that barely covered her bottom, and her short stature. Combined, they did not present a picture of attractiveness that she was sure this bear was used to seeing.
She stopped by the folding table in front of a camper where customers were expected to pay. Henry, the man running the tree stand, used the old camper to get out of the wind and the cold when business was slow. “Hi, Henry.”
While she had never been a regular customer at Christmas time—her aunt had firmly believed that commercialism had destroyed the meaning of Christmas, so they never celebrated it—she had seen the older man around town throughout the year.
“Looks like you picked out a good one there, Mercy.”
She pulled her wallet from her coat pocket. It was an old-fashioned coin purse that her aunt had given her years ago. It was one of the few presents she’d ever received from her aunt. There had been no birthday parties, Christmas gifts, or graduation celebrations, even though Mercy had earned two degrees. The last one had been her master’s degree in library science that she’d received four years ago. She was now in charge of the children’s section in the county library. She’d volunteered at the library for years, books giving her a healthy escape from her rather ordinary life.
“Thank you, Henry. How much is it?”
“Now, Mercy, you know I can’t just give you a price—”
“I’ll take care of it.” The man holding her tree spoke behind her.
She spun around on her heel. “What! You can’t do that. You need your money.” Mercy gasped at her comment as soon as she made it. Reaching out, she laid her hand on his arm. “That was unbelievably rude of
me. I apologize.”
Dirk’s body stilled when the woman touched him. It brought back so many memories. Memories of a family, love… the desire for a mate.
No, he shook his head to clear. No mate. Not now. He wasn’t worthy of a mate. Not after what he had done. Or failed to do.
Dirk’s hand tightened on the trunk of the tree to the point that he almost snapped it in half. What the fucking hell was the matter with him? He’d long since passed the point where he needed to hook up with a woman. He and his bear had decided what seemed like eons ago, that the release he found in a female’s arms wasn’t worth the effort of being around others, humans or shifters. He picked up the tree and started for the graveled parking lot. It didn’t take a genius to figure out which of the vehicles was hers. The lot held a green compact car and two trucks, one of which was his. He heard her hurrying behind him. Opening the gate of his truck, he tossed in the tree as if it weighed nothing. Which to him, it didn’t. “I’ll follow you home.”
The wind had picked up, blowing her long hair around her shoulders. He frowned. She needed a hat and a thick scarf he thought, noticing how she flipped up the collar of her coat. Not any of his concern.
Mate, his bear rumbled inside him. For a moment he didn’t understand what the animal was trying to say to him. It roared again. Mate!
No, fucking way.
“Okay, that would be great.” She bit her lip as if she wanted to say more.
“What?” His tone was gruff but he couldn’t help it.
“Umm, you don’t have to deliver it. If you’d just help me tie it to the roof of my car, I’ll be fine.”
Dirk snorted. “The thing is two feet taller than you.” He paused, a thought making him step close. “Unless you have a husband or boyfriend at home to help you?”
He drew in a sharp breath. No, no other man’s scent lingered on her hair or skin. His bear butted against his chest, wanting out. Wanting to mark her. Rub himself all over her, preferably skin to skin.
Dirk couldn’t blame the animal. He suddenly wanted to do the same thing.
“No, no husband. Or boyfriend.” She ducked her head shyly.
“Okay then.” He couldn’t help but give her a small grin since the news brought a flash of happiness. The unaccustomed feeling felt strange. And good. All at the same time.
“My name’s Mercy, by the way.” Another one of her smiles and he felt the cold inside him lessen just a little more.
“Dirk.” He watched as she walked to her car, waiting until she started it before he got into his truck. She gave him a small wave as she pulled onto the road and he put his truck in gear and followed behind the small compact, wondering what the hell had just happened.
****
Mercy told herself to drive slowly even as her heart was beating out of her chest. Glancing in her rearview mirror for the hundredth time, she saw the big, black truck was still behind her. She could barely make out the shape of the man behind the wheel through the tinted windows. Not that she needed to see him in order to recall every feature on his handsome face.
She’d been surrounded by shifters almost half her life and she still couldn’t get over how beautiful they were. Dirk was no exception. She turned into her driveway, pulling to the side so that his truck would be closer to the door. She worried her bottom lip, wondering if she should offer him coffee after he was finished. She’d never had a man in the house, which was a very sad commentary of her life. Her aunt would never have allowed it. She was already at the door when he pulled in behind her and got the tree out of the bed of the truck.
“Thank you so much for doing this.” She smiled at him as she held the door open, shutting it quickly behind the big tree and even bigger bear. He grunted and she grinned. In just the short time she’d known him, she’d already figured out he wasn’t a man of many words.
“Where do you want it?”
Anywhere you want to give it to me, big boy, Mercy thought to herself licking her lips. Images of him naked in front of the firelight, his big brawny body ready for hers, his co—
“Mercy?”
“Umm,” she struggled to find words she’d been so lost in her lust-filled fantasy. She felt a twinge of guilt that was quickly brushed aside. She was twenty-nine years old, long past the stage of blushing faces and giggles behind a cupped hand in the face of a man’s sexiness.
“In front of the window.” Being her aunt’s only relative Mercy had inherited the older woman’s home, a two story Victorian that didn’t really blend in with the local architecture. Most houses on the block were one story ranches or larger family homes with modern lines. The gingerbread trim, large gabled porch and bay windows on her house made it stand out like a sore thumb most of the time. Christmas, however was not one of those times. The old-fashioned look suited the season well.
He leaned the tree against the wall by the window and looked around. “Do you have a stand?”
“Yes, it’s in the trunk of my car. I bought one before I came to the tree lot.”
“Go get it and I’ll put the tree in it.”
“Oh, no,” she protested. “That’s not necessary.”
He turned to look at her, his liquid gray eyes making her feel all gooey inside like a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie.
“And how exactly are you going to get this tree in a stand by yourself?”
“I’ll manage.” The one bright side to living with a maiden aunt was that Mercy had learned to be very creative when it came to taking care of herself.
He folded his arms over his chest, the pose straining the fabric of his coat over his biceps. Dang, but the man was big. Against her will, her gaze dropped down his body. Despite the width and breadth of his shoulders, his waist tapered in. Unlike some men, he had a fantastic ass. Along with his tree-trunk like thighs and his other obvious large endowments, he was a big man. A very big man.
Her pussy clenched thinking about all that maleness. Luckily, between the thickness of her coat and the sweater underneath, there was no way he could tell how her body was responding to his presence. It looked like it was time to get out some of her erotic novels and her purple play toy, she thought, another wave of desire washing over her. Or… he’d been here less than ten minutes and already she was trying to think of ways to convince him to stay… and pleasure her. It was as if some other being had taken control of her senses.
“I’ll just go get the stand.” She turned sharply on her heel, heading outside. The cold air hit her full in the face, but she welcomed it. Hurrying, she opened the trunk and took out the brand new tree stand. Mercy realized she’d have to go shopping for Christmas decorations later. She’d make some, but she wanted lights and ribbon and sparkling ornaments for her very first Christmas tree. Something she’d never had before.
Just like Dirk.
“Here you go.” She handed him the box and he quickly assembled it. She watched closely so she’d know how to take it apart when the holidays were over. If there was anything her aunt had taught her, it was to be independent. Not to say, Mercy didn’t long for a man to do those things for her. She was just realistic. A curvy girl like her rarely got the guy who was thoughtful, loving, and caring.
Heck, a curvy girl like herself rarely got the man.
“I need a saw from my truck. Why don’t you get some water ready?” Dirk moved out of the living room and was out the door before she could answer. Going into the kitchen, she retrieved the large watering can she used for her outdoor plants during the summer months.
She watched as Dirk cut off the lower branches of the tree and sawed the end off the trunk, mesme1rized by the play of muscles under his long-sleeved t-shirt. He’d discharged his coat when he’d returned from his truck.
“Do you work for Marcus?” Marcus was the owner of a multi-acre Christmas tree farm right outside of Riverton. She’d only met the man a few times and then only long enough to exchange pleasantries. As with most bear shifters, he tended to keep to himself. He had set up the lot in to
wn each Christmas since Mercy could remember. She still thought it odd that shifters aged so slowly. The man looked the same way today that he had when Mercy was in high school. She knew Marcus employed Henry every year, but this was the first year she’d ever seen Dirk. In fact, today was the first time she’d ever seen the bear shifter. She really did need to get out more, she thought. Just look what she was missing.
“Yeah. He needed some help this year.” That didn’t exactly answer her question. Was he doing Marcus a favor or was it the other way around? Mercy didn’t claim to know everyone in the county, but she was pretty darn sure some of the more talkative, gossipy, patrons of the library would have mentioned this man to her. He was too dark and too silent not to have been the subject of gossip in the small town of Riverton.
“He’s a very nice man. He donates a Christmas tree to the town every year. This year he’s giving one to the library because our budget has been cut.”
She gave him a perfect opportunity to ask about her work. He didn’t take it. She sighed. Within minutes, the tree was in the stand and watered. He got up and dusted off his legs of his jeans, indicating he was done.
“It’s going to be beautiful,” she said, dragging her attention away from the man and concentrating on the tree. She drew in a lungful of air, inhaling the pine scent.
“Beautiful,” he echoed. He gazed at her, his hooded eyes making it very plain that he was talking about her and not the tree. Mercy felt her cheeks burn.
“What do you want to do with these branches?” In a minute, he had the branches he’d cut off stacked together in his arms.
“I’ll take them.” She covered the distance between them in a couple of steps, holding out her arms.
He refused to give them to her. “You’ll get sap on your clothes.”
Her arms fell to her sides. This was the closest she had been to him, except for those few moments on the tree lot. “If you could put them on the hearth, please.” She hurried over and moved the empty wood box out of the way. He frowned as she moved it and she wondered if he thought it was too heavy for her. Again, the feeling of being protected washed over her.