A Wife For The Bear: BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (Bear Brides Book 3)

by Natalie Kristen

  “Yep. No happily mated guys here to spoil the fun,” Connor added gleefully. The twins chortled and hi-fived each other.

  Brad laughed but shook his head. “I've had too much to drink already. I'd better get myself home or I'll be a bear with a sore head in the morning.”

  “We've all had too much to drink,” Curtis grinned. “Oh God, listen to them.” He whipped his head round and bellowed, “Will you guys stop your God-awful singing? You're scaring the neighborhood dogs!”

  There were guffaws and a few colorful expletives, but the din died down. The dogs stopped howling their protests, and Brad could hear himself think again. “Run along now,” Brad shooed the group off before they tried to wear down his defenses again. “The strippers are waiting!”

  “Damn right!”

  “Woohoo! Here we come!”

  “Booze and boobs! This is heaven...”

  “You—are going straight to hell, Jason!”

  “Shut up!”

  Brad watched the guys jostle and jab at one another as they rumbled down the street. He stared at their broad departing backs until they turned the corner and disappeared from his view. Unfortunately, they'd started up their singing again and he could hear their terrible warbling even from a few blocks away.

  His clan members were mouthy and boisterous, but they were solid, good guys. It had been a long week. They'd completed two landscaping projects, and would be starting another huge project next week. Business was good for Nightfire Landscaping, the landscaping company owned by the Nightfire clan. Brad's elder brother, Cole was the founder and Alpha of the Nightfire clan, and his cousin, Dalton was the Beta. Dalton's younger brother, Tony, and Brad were third in command in the clan. Tony was just two years older than him, and they used to hang out together all the time after work. But Tony had just gotten mated to Terri Quinn, a recently Turned werebear. Tony used to hang out with them on Friday nights, but tonight Tony had rushed home after work to be with his mate. So had Cole. Cole's mate, Abby, was human, but she was tough. Brad loved his sister-in-law. She made his big brother happy, and if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Cole. Cole and Dalton had been barely eighteen when their entire clan was massacred by a rival clan. Only the four of them made it out of the bloodbath. At just eighteen, Cole had become the head of what was left of the Jameson bears. He had led them away from the fire, away from the ashes of their family and herded them towards Moonstone Creek, a small, rural town where they'd managed to make a life for themselves.

  Brad rubbed absently at the ache in his chest. The pain of losing his family never ever went away. It just became more bearable with time. Brad had been a mere lad of ten when he lost everything—his childhood, his home, his entire clan. All he had left were his elder brother and his two cousins.

  And that was more than what most people had.

  The four of them were tight. They had gone through so much together, and they had achieved so much together. They were family, clan and blood.

  Cole had founded the Nightfire clan in Moonstone Creek. Cole was a good Alpha, and he recruited loyal, young werebears into the clan and the business. Once a werebear joined the Nightfire clan, their extended families, including mates, parents, siblings, even great-grandparents, became part of the clan as well. Their numbers grew, and so did their landscaping business.

  Brad was proud of everything they'd accomplished. He loved his family and his clan members. The boys were loud and fun, but every single Nightfire bear would fight to the death to defend the clan.

  The strains of garbled singing finally faded away. Brad smiled. Those boys sure were having the time of their lives. And so they should. They worked hard and they played hard. And they were single and young, most of them in their twenties.

  Brad blew out a long breath. He was thirty. He wasn't old, but he just felt...like there was a void in him. And the void had only yawned wider now that Cole and Tony was mated. Brad knew that he could drop by at Cole or Tony's place any time, but he didn't want to play gooseberry and interrupt their love fest. He glanced at his watch. When he knocked off work with the rest of the guys, Dalton was still stuck in a long meeting with a new supplier. The poor guy was probably dead beat at the end of the day.

  Brad sighed and turned around to head back up the street. He would just get himself home and have an early night. Perhaps he should have taken the boys up on their offer and gone to the strip club with them. But...he wouldn't be enjoying himself. He used to enjoy these weekly jaunts with the guys, but recently he found himself yearning for something more, something real and permanent.

  Brad strolled past the flickering streetlamps, hands stuffed in his pockets. He'd left his car in the parking lot near the pub, but he wanted to take a walk and clear his head. They'd had a drinking contest, and he'd won, but right now he wished he hadn't. He had drunk too much, too fast and now he was feeling a little light-headed.

  Brad forced himself to increase his pace. He should get himself home quickly and throw his stinky body under the shower. The smell of cigarette smoke, barbequed food and beer clung to his skin and shirt. Brad put one large foot in front of the other, and was pleased to see that he could still walk in a straight line. He wasn't that drunk then.

  A streetlamp went out just above him. Brad jerked his head up and frowned. With the streetlamps spaced widely apart, the street was not that well lit. It didn't bother his shifter senses. His bear could see well enough in the dark. But the humans in this neighborhood might find the darkness intimidating and hazardous. They could trip and fall, and all sorts of unsavory predators might lurk in the shadows and prey on them. Robbers, rapists, rogues.

  Brad's frown deepened when he glanced around the neighborhood. He had clearly taken a wrong turn. This wasn't the way home. If anything, he was even farther from home.

  The street looked largely uninhabited. There were only a few squat, crooked houses along the street, and most of them were boarded up. Overgrown weeds covered the front yards and he didn't see any lights in the windows. Brad blew out a breath. This was probably a part of town that was waiting for demolition and reconstruction. He had heard the announcement that some older neighborhoods would be torn down and rebuilt in the next couple of years. Moonstone Creek was getting a much needed facelift. It was good for the town's image, good for tourism.

  Brad was about to turn his back on the sad, shadowy street when he heard an anguished cry.

  It was a human cry.

  He lifted his nose and found the scent. The scent of fear and anger from a human female.

  Brad barreled towards the scent. The muffled sounds of a struggle grew louder, and the woman's rising terror enraged his bear. Without warning, his bear burst from him and thundered towards a low walk-up building at the end of the street.

  He saw the woman, on the ground. She was struggling with a skinny man wearing a hoodie and wielding a knife.

  Although the man had her pinned to the ground and had a dangerous looking knife in his grip, the woman clearly wasn't letting the thug intimidate her into submission.

  She was trying her best to wrestle the weapon out of the man's hand. The blade swished dangerously close to her face as they fought, and Brad could hear her grunts and curses.

  She was scared, but she wasn't letting her fear show.

  With a roar, Brad swiped the man away from her and flung the thug a few meters out onto the road. The man yelled and scrambled up to face the raging brown bear. He held his silver knife out in front of him like a talisman, waving it in Brad's face.

  “Silver, it's silver,” he hissed.

  Brad narrowed his eyes. Did the little shit think that he would run away screaming like a girl at the sight of silver? Sure, silver would kill him if it found his heart. But Brad doubted this useless human male had the aim and strength required to stick the silver blade in his heart. He was just a worthless piece of shit who thought that a poor woman living alone on a deserted street would be easy prey. Brad should ju
st finish him off. He was nothing but a waste of oxygen. And a waste of his time.

  Brad turned back to the human woman. He wanted to make sure she was okay. The woman was clutching her bag protectively in front of her, her eyes showing too much white.

  Her bun had come loose and tendrils of silky, black hair fell across her pretty, heart-shaped face. Her long-sleeved blouse was ripped, and her slacks were torn at the knees. The woman was petite and curvy, and she had a beautiful, exotic face.

  As Brad stared at her, her eyes grew even rounder and her arm shot up suddenly. “Look out! Behind you!”

  Brad jerked as he felt a searing pain in his side. He twisted round and saw the hilt of a knife sticking out from his body. The hooligan had taken a run at him and buried his silver knife in his side. Brad bellowed. The silver hadn't hit his heart, so it wouldn't kill him. But it hurt and the pain made him mad as hell.

  Brad gritted his teeth and bore the burning pain in his side as he prowled towards the thug. The man stared at the knife buried in Brad's side and gulped. He was probably wondering why Brad hadn't keeled over and died. The look of bewilderment and dismay on his face was almost comical. Brad would have laughed if he wasn't in so much pain.

  With a growl, Brad lunged at the man. The man screamed and fled. Brad had never seen anyone run so fast, arms flailing and screaming bloody murder.

  He was about to give chase when he felt a tiny hand at his side. “Y-you're hurt. I have to get this out. It's a silver blade, and...you're a shifter.”

  Her voice was like silk, soft, gentle, caressing.

  Brad turned to growl at her but she didn't flinch. “Thank you for saving me. Now let me repay you and save you right back. I'll get the knife out.”

  Before Brad could respond, she braced her palm against his shoulder and wrapped her fingers round the knife handle. Her touch was warm and comforting, and without realizing it, Brad found himself leaning into her, wanting to get closer to her.

  He inhaled her lush female scent and closed his eyes. As far as he could tell, this woman was human. Yet, there was something beneath her human scent, a whisper of a predator…

  Brad tried to identify that strange scent but it floated away on the breeze and vanished.

  He shook his head hard. He hadn't imagined it. It was there, just for a moment…

  The woman was counting under her breath. “One, two, three!”

  She stumbled back and staggered a few paces before regaining her balance. Blinking up at Brad, she gave him a small smile and held something up for his inspection.

  It was the dripping, silver knife.

  She had been true to her word.

  The little human had yanked the knife out and saved him right back.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lisha held the bloody knife in her hand and stepped back. The imposing bear in front of her shuddered violently and dropped to its knees. The brown fur rippled and vanished, and the bear shifted suddenly to its human form. A tall, muscular man with tanned skin and tawny hair knelt on the ground, panting and wincing. There was a deep, ugly wound in his side, and he looked a little pale from the blood loss.

  Lisha ran forward to help him up. “Let me help you back to my apartment. I can wash your wound and bandage it,” she said, slipping under his heavy arm to support him. The man made a guttural sound of pain, and she heard him suck in a sharp breath as she hauled him unsteadily to his feet.

  The man started to shake his head, but Lisha persisted in dragging him towards her building. “Let me dress your wound. It's the least I can do. You saved my life.”

  The man closed his eyes as he dragged more air into his lungs. Lisha knew the man was sniffing her. He was a shifter, and shifters used their sense of smell to detect danger and enemies. He was probably trying to ascertain if she was a threat. Would she twist the silver blade in his gut now that he was injured and vulnerable?

  “I won't hurt you,” she told him. “You're safe.”

  He chuckled then. “You're not scared of me?”

  “Should I be scared of you?”

  “No.” His eyes widened in alarm. “No. I will never hurt you. What's your name?”

  “Lisha.” He growled and repeated her name in a whisper. The sound of her name on his lips sent a delicious quiver through her body. She glanced at his toned physique and let her eyes wander lower. With a start, she caught herself and stiffened, appalled at her own dishonorable intentions towards an injured, defenseless man. She swallowed and said quickly, “I will never hurt you either, um...”

  “Brad. I'm Brad Jameson.”

  “I'll take care of you, Brad Jameson,” she said and started leading him up the stairs. “My apartment is just on the second floor.”

  He laughed softly. “You're a brave human. Like my sister-in-law.”

  “Your brother married a human woman?” she asked, just to make conversation as she unlocked her front door.

  “Yep. They met on a dating site. My brother signed my cousins and me up for the dating site too.”

  “Oh? Any luck so far?” Lisha flicked on the lights and staggered towards the sofa. Brad still had his arm draped around her shoulders, but it felt like he was holding her even tighter than before. The poor man must be in a lot of pain.

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah. I just met the girl of my dreams.”

  “Hmm,” Lisha replied absently. She steered him towards the sofa, but he resisted.

  “I don't want to get my blood all over your nice furniture. I'll wash up in the bathroom, if you don't mind.”

  Lisha was about to retort that her furniture wasn't that nice, and a little blood wouldn't bother her. She had seen much more blood than that, and had come across humans who were way scarier and more savage than any shifters she'd known. She blinked away the terrible memories and nodded towards the bathroom.

  Brad was staring at her, so she turned away quickly. “I'll get you some clothes,” she mumbled and rushed to her bedroom. His gaze was direct and assessing, and she felt as though he could see right through her. Did he already sniff out what she was? Did he suspect who she was?

  Lisha took a deep breath and shook her head. No, of course he didn't know her past. She had only just met him. He was simply a good Samaritan who'd rescued her from a lowlife.

  She changed quickly out of her ripped clothes and pulled on a t-shirt and track pants. When she emerged from her room with an old, cherished shirt and a pair of faded jeans in her hands, she found Brad standing in her living room, staring round her tiny, threadbare apartment. She saw that his wound had knitted shut and he was already starting to heal. That was the advantage of having shifter genes. Your body regenerated and healed faster, even though the scars would always remain.

  He spun round at her footstep. He glanced at the clothes she held out to him and asked gruffly, “Are these your boyfriend's clothes?”

  “No. They are...were my dad's.”

  His throat moved. “I'm sorry,” he said softly. “And thank you. I'll have them cleaned and sent back tomorrow.”

  She averted her eyes as he dressed quickly. The clothes were a size too small and he had to leave the shift unbuttoned. Not that she minded. It gave her a very nice view of his toned, ripped torso. She might not be able to touch, but she could certainly look. And that was enough for her. She couldn't possibly hope for more.

  “Would you...like some tea?” she asked tentatively. What she really wanted to ask was: Would you like to stay—for the night?

  It would be nice not to be alone for a change.

  But it couldn't be helped.

  This was her life. And she would hold on to it, God damn it.

  She would not be killed by some evil syndicate which kidnapped and sold their own kind into slavery and prostitution. Humans trafficking in humans.

  The world was full of predators. They were highly dangerous, brutal and cruel. And they didn't even have fangs and claws.

  “Yes.
I'd love some tea,” Brad said, breaking into her thoughts.

  He returned her smile and followed her into her bare little kitchen. When she handed him her near empty biscuit tin, he opened it and carefully arranged the few biscuits nicely on a plate without comment.

  When the tea was ready, he carried the two steaming mugs to the dining table and pulled out a chair for her.

  Lisha smiled. He treated her like a princess, and behaved as though they were dining in a fine, fancy restaurant instead of sipping weak tea and eating stale biscuits in her cold, bare kitchen.

  They drank their tea in companionable silence for a while. Brad leaned back and glanced around. Lisha was sure he noticed the glaring lack of ornaments and photographs in her apartment. Her apartment was just a roof over her head. It wasn't a home and there weren't any personal touches anywhere to be seen. But Brad was a perfect gentleman and a most polite guest. He didn't pass any comment that might make her feel uncomfortable or self-conscious. Instead, he chatted amiably about the new restaurants and shops that had just opened in town, and spoke a little about his landscaping work. Gradually, she began to relax and told him more about her work in the library. She had just moved to Moonstone Creek about three months ago and the library was hiring at that time. Her colleagues were great, and she was getting to know some of the regular library users. “I used to be a web designer,” she told him. “I was thinking maybe I could do some freelance work.”

  “That's a great idea,” Brad encouraged. “You could design our website!”

  “I'd love to.”

  He held out his hand. “Then we have a deal.”

  Laughing, she let him shake her hand even though she still thought he was joking.

  Brad began to talk about his family and clan, and she saw his eyes light up with pride and love.