Double Bear Chase: Werebear BBW Menage Romance (Hockey Bear Season Book 3)

by Anya Nowlan

  “Ms. I-don’t-like-to-dance,” he clucked his tongue, taking his time getting reacquainted with that lovely face of hers. “That sly dog,” he muttered to himself, realizing Foster could have told Finn what he was walking into, and chose not to.

  “Um, what?” Hanna asked, and he waived a hand in response.

  “Never mind. So you’re the girl from Rico’s. I have to admit, I did not see that coming.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Foster didn’t tell you?”

  “Of course not. I bet he’s giggling to himself like a little girl right as we speak,” Finn smirked.

  Short enough to barely reach his shoulder even with the heels she was wearing, Hanna looked up at him, her expression a mixture of annoyance and surprise. Her short, blonde hair grazed her collarbones artfully, with not a single strand out of place.

  The outfit she was wearing, a long pencil skirt and a button-up and sweater combo, was modest by most standards. But the way it fit her like a glove, hugging her lush curves, made her look downright indecent to him.

  His bear reacted immediately, excitedly clawing at him in an attempt to get closer to this woman he was so inexplicably drawn to. She blinked at him with her round, hazel eyes, a faint blush on her full cheeks. Her nose was straight and thin, leading to a pair of plump lips he couldn’t help but focus on.

  With the cup still hanging from her fingers, she stared at him, grimacing at the mess all around them.

  “Is this how you greet all your clients?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from her and glancing at the front of his shirt, soaked in brown liquid and sticking to his chest. “Because I don’t feel very welcome.”

  Hanna pursed her lips, her concern about the coffee spill suddenly gone.

  “You’re late,” she stated in a clipped tone. “I don’t like my time wasted.”

  “Well, I don’t like getting coffee spilled on me, so I guess we’re even,” he countered gruffly, but then rushed to smooth it over a little. “Sorry. I got stuck in traffic,” he replied, throwing her a smile.

  She didn’t seem to be buying it.

  “Mm-hmm,” she just said, arching a brow at him. “Well, at least you’re here now,” she added, putting on a more friendly expression.

  Looking him up and down, something flitted across her face, an expression he couldn’t place until it was gone, replaced by a look of detached professionalism.

  “You can get cleaned up over there,” she announced, pointing to a small door at the end of the hall. “I’ll get you something to wear. You’re not getting away from me now,” she warned, as if she knew he had been ready to bolt any second.

  Until I laid eyes on her, that is.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned, letting his appreciation slip into his voice.

  Hanna just tugged on the hem of her sweater with a determined look on her face.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, turning on her heel and walking away.

  The sway of her hips was mesmerizing, and Finn spent more time than he’d have liked to admit just standing there, watching her leave.

  Okay, time to stop perving on the hot therapist, he told himself, shaking his head and making his way to the bathroom.

  Locking the door after him, he pulled off the wet shirt and turned on the sink. With the help of some paper towels, he got himself cleaned up, despite the fact he could barely turn around in the cramped little bathroom.

  He almost couldn’t believe the sexy little thing from Friday’s salsa night was going to be his therapist. If that wasn’t a sign his luck was about to turn around, he didn’t know what was.

  There was a knock on the door soon after, with Hanna’s somewhat hesitant voice coming from the other side.

  “Hello? You okay in there?” she asked.

  Finn opened the door, stepping outside with his crumpled shirt in his hand. Hanna was standing there, holding a blue sweatshirt with the counseling center’s logo on it. Smiling to himself, Finn noted how she took just a second too long to hand the clothing over to him, her eyes fixating on his bare chest.

  “Like what you see?” he couldn’t help but ask, flexing before pulling the sweatshirt on. “Maybe spilling coffee on me wasn’t an accident, after all.”

  “Can we finally get to our session now?” she sighed in response.

  But he caught the way her cheeks flushed for a moment, and the way her heartbeat sped up. Perks of being a shifter, it was hard for humans to hide their physical reactions from him. And he enjoyed every second of catching Ms. Radley flustered.

  She looked like a woman who wasn’t easily shaken, which only added to Finn’s sense of victory. He had gotten under her skin, and that excited him enough to forget all about how he actually didn’t want to be there at all.

  I can’t believe Foster actually called her ‘nice’. Spirits, is that an understatement or what? Finn thought, following Hanna into her office.

  The office looked like it was made to seem comfortable and reassuring. Soft tones and fabrics, neat but not bare. There were a couple of pictures on the walls, but not your usual crashing waves or sunsets. These pieces actually looked cool, capturing different elements of bodies in motion.

  Hanna gestured toward a pale blue sofa at the back wall and he sat down, watching her fold herself into a matching armchair opposite him. Picking up a notepad, she fixed him with an assessing look, but Finn wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation.

  Even though spending time with Hanna was a welcome surprise, he would rather do that somewhere else, and in a much less professional capacity. Like maybe back on the dance floor, with her curves pressed against him. He was perfectly certain that she would love dancing, she just hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy it before.

  He considered himself a great teacher and this particular case was one that was right up his alley.

  “Let’s just get one thing straight. I don’t belong here,” he said, before Hanna could get a word out. “I don’t have anger issues. If the glass hadn’t broken on those barriers, no one would even have made a big deal out of that fight.”

  “Sorry, let me get this straight. I’m not that into hockey, so excuse my ignorance,” she replied, with a slightly embarrassed smile.

  Finn relaxed on the sofa. Hanna seemed reasonable enough. Maybe they could actually get this all cleared up faster than he’d thought? Get all the necessary paperwork signed, get back on the ice, maybe ask Hanna out on a date…

  “So,” she began, tapping a finger on her chin. “You almost choked a guy out for doing his job, basically caused an all-out brawl in the middle of the game, and your brother smashed a guy’s head into Plexiglass hard enough for it to break and shower the bystanders.

  “Let’s not even mention the downright reckless behavior that preceded this incident. But hey, you say you’re fine. You don’t belong here. Who am I, a licensed therapist, to say differently?” she finished, still with an unassuming smile on her face.

  She stared at Finn, now momentarily stunned into silence, batting her eyelashes at him.

  “Did I get that about right?” she asked sweetly, her hands folded in her lap.

  Damn. I was not expecting that. This is going to be a lot tougher than I thought.

  Seven

  Hanna

  He looks so much like Foster, Hanna thought, looking at her reluctant patient.

  Finn managed to look like he was on the set of a photo shoot, even with that hideous sweatshirt on. He had the same square jaw and blue eyes as Foster. But his hair was longer, swooping to one side on the top of his head, and he was clean-shaven.

  The overhead lighting cast shadows on his face, accentuating the same cheekbones she’d seen on Foster. Yet there were differences, too. His nose was a little thinner, and his brow a little heavier. Overall, she could only conclude that the brothers had to have some great genes, because they were two of the most handsome men she had ever seen.

  Or the most handsome shifters, a part of her said, reminding he
r neither Foster nor Finn were exactly regular men.

  “You’re not pulling any punches, are you?” Finn asked, raising a brow at her earlier tirade.

  “Based on your brother, I thought the silk gloves approach might not do much,” she shrugged.

  One thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to let Finn tell her what kind of help he did or didn’t need. These men would walk all over her if she let them, and she had no intention of allowing that.

  “A fair assessment,” Finn nodded.

  “So, you want to tell me about Nash Cavanaugh?” she asked.

  “What about him?” Finn asked with a shrug.

  “You tell me. Seemed you were pretty upset with the man,” she countered.

  “We were in the middle of a game and things got heated. It happens,” he said, avoiding her gaze all of the sudden.

  “Sure. But not to that extent. Not with you and your brother. At least not until… three months ago?” she prodded.

  The timeline had been easy to construct by skimming articles about the games the Savages played. Foster and Finn had never been teddy bears, but they’d never picked a fight for no reason, either. And certainly not to the extent they were doing so now.

  Something had to have triggered this behavior, and the way Finn’s eyes snapped to her when she mentioned the three-month mark told her she was right.

  “Me and Foster… We stick together,” Finn remarked, avoiding Hanna’s real question. “Nash was running his mouth. It wasn’t anything that bad, really…” he trailed off, seeming to replay it in his head. “But it got to me, nonetheless,” he said softly, under his breath.

  Hanna was listening quietly, somewhat surprised Finn was opening up at all. It was clear the altercation was weighing on him more than he’d like to admit. He looked like he was going to say more, but caught himself.

  That confident smile she had already seen on Foster appeared, creating a wall between them. The moment of vulnerability was slipping away, even as she tried to grab onto it.

  “The two of you are going through something together, am I right?” she asked softly, leaning forward in her chair.

  “He’s my brother,” Finn replied. “My twin brother, at that. I’m always going to be looking out for him.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” Hanna said firmly.

  “Wasn’t it?” he asked all too innocently.

  “No. But it’s alright. You’re not ready to talk about it. We can work our way up to what’s really bothering you.”

  Finn sighed, letting his eyes sweep over her.

  “I meant what I said. I don’t belong here. I don’t see how talking about my feelings or whatever is going to help anything. Coming here, I didn’t have a choice. But I’m telling you right now, I don’t need to be fixed,” he stated.

  “That’s not what this is about. And anyway, I can’t fix you. You’re not broken. If you want to work on yourself, that’s your decision. I’m here so you have someone to talk to, to help you figure out what’s keeping you from being the best version of you.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I like talking to you,” Finn grinned, shooting her a look that made her fidget in her seat.

  The brothers definitely shared a talent for making her feel unsettled. There was nothing subtle about the way Finn looked her up and down, with a smile that she was sure would make most women hop out of their seats and onto his lap.

  But that wasn’t Hanna. He could use flirting to avoid her questions all day long, that didn’t change the fact that she was a professional. She was going to stay cool, calm and collected, and not let him distract her.

  No matter how difficult that is, she thought, unable to help it when her eyes wandered over his perfectly sculpted frame.

  The small tattoo she had caught a glimpse of before was hidden now, but she still remembered it vividly. Like everything else about Finn’s shirtless chest. The tattoo had looked fresh, and depicted what looked like an oak tree. She didn’t spot any other tattoos on him, but she hadn’t really been looking for them either.

  Too busy gawking at his hot body, she chided herself.

  Hanna was curious about what the story behind that tattoo might be, but this was not the time to ask. It could be deeply personal, and her questioning him about it could make him shut down even more. He was already avoiding talking about anything that actually mattered, and turning everything around to be about her, instead.

  “But I’d much rather be talking about you than me,” he finished with a wink.

  “You two really are brothers,” Hanna couldn’t help but mutter.

  “Oh, did my little brother already try to charm the good doctor and fail?” Finn smirked. “Guess I’m going to have to try harder.”

  “I’m not a doctor, just a therapist,” Hanna quickly amended, trying to steer the conversation away from Foster.

  And I’m not some prize to be won over. Least of all by a bear…

  She shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. They were brothers, but they still had a right to their privacy. That meant not commenting on what she had or hadn’t discussed with Foster during his session.

  “Are women a competition for you and your brother?” she asked.

  Maybe Finn would be more open about his conquests, leading him to reveal more about his relationship with Foster. Clearly they were close, but perhaps there was something going on between them that was affecting their behavior? If they were having problems, they could be burying the anger they had toward each other and taking it out on the ice.

  “No, not a competition. We’re more of a team,” he said, voice so low and smooth it made a shiver run down Hanna’s spine.

  He fixed her with a look and she could feel her core pulse. She didn’t know what Finn meant exactly, but just looking at the dangerous gleam in his eye got a reaction from her. Everything about Finn oozed confident sex appeal, and while she could outwardly try and pretend it didn’t affect her, she had to be honest with herself. She was clearly attracted to him on some base level.

  There was nothing wrong with acknowledging that. Now that she had acknowledged it, she could start pushing those feelings aside and focusing on trying to help him. You know, like functioning grownups had to do.

  “So you’re each other’s wingmen, aside from being teammates and siblings. Does it ever get tiresome spending so much time together?” she asked, scribbling down some notes on the pad in her lap.

  “That shade of lipstick looks great on you. Sophisticated, yet bold,” Finn commented, his voice echoing right through her and making the word she was trying to write down come out as nothing more than a squiggle. “But then again, I bet every color would look great on lips like those.”

  “Somehow I get the feeling you’re not taking this very seriously,” Hanna remarked, tapping her pen against the paper.

  “Would you look at that, our time’s up already,” Finn smiled in response, looking at the clock behind Hanna’s head. “I better go. Wouldn’t want to delay your next appointment.”

  “Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing,” she replied, standing as Finn got on his feet.

  Finn just ignored her, and she could feel her annoyance grow. She knew this had to be difficult for Finn, and he was handling it the best he could, but that didn’t mean she had to like being treated like her words didn’t matter.

  I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.

  “Should I give this back, or…?” Finn asked, tugging at the hem of the sweatshirt he was wearing, giving Hanna another glimpse at his six-pack.

  “You can keep it,” Hanna blurted out, the words rushed as Finn made to take it off.

  The vision of his half-naked body would have been just the delicious insult that would have added to the injury this whole session had been.

  “Alright. See you,” he said cheerfully, seemingly not a care in the world as he strolled over to the door and left, giving her a little wave before closing the door after him.

  What frus
trating patients the Caldwell brothers were turning out to be. Not that she hadn’t expected that, with getting a taste of what they were like at Rico’s. With their overconfidence, they probably thought they could handle anything and everything on their own.

  Wouldn’t hurt them to take these sessions a little more seriously, though.

  It wasn’t unusual for people to be reluctant at first when they came to her, but these two seemed more stubborn than most. With such strong personalities, she knew she would be fighting an uphill battle.

  Then, as she was going over her notes about both of them a few hours later, something sparked in her mind. A way to maybe throw the brothers off guard, and get them talking beyond what it took to hit on her.

  Yes. That just might work, she grinned to herself.

  Eight

  Foster

  “How was practice?” Foster asked, sitting at a small coffee shop with a full cup in front of him.

  Eli, the Savages’ goaltender, sat opposite him, draping himself over the back of his chair and crossing one leg over the other. The caramel macchiato, topped with a healthy serving of whipped cream, looked entirely out of place in his hand as he casually sipped his drink.

  “Is that really what you want to talk about? The practice you couldn’t come to?” he asked with an arched brow.

  Eli was as burly as they came, with a wide, heavy-set frame and a mop of unruly, dark hair. His eyes looked almost black in the dark corner of the shop as he studied Foster closely.

  “I don’t know what I want to talk about,” Foster sighed in response.

  “Come on, man. We’re friends. You can talk about whatever.”

  “You want to be my therapist, too? Sorry, I already have one,” he scoffed.

  Having Eli act like everyone else – the sympathetic looks, the worried questions – made his mood sour. But then, his thoughts drifted to Hanna, and he could feel himself perk up a bit. There was something about her that was entirely irresistible, and also more than a little exciting. He even found himself looking forward to his next session, even though he loathed the thought of having to talk about himself in that capacity.