Desired by the Bear - Book 1: BBW Werebear Shifter Romance

by V. Vaughn

  “You probably haven’t. It’s rare,” she says. “Do you know where it comes from?”

  I shake my head as I clutch the treasure in my hand. It’s warm, and I swear I feel a faint vibration humming in it.

  “Old signal lanterns were made of red glass,” says Grace.

  Izzy says, “Like the ones that are in the boathouse.”

  “Right,” says Jean Luc. “They haven’t made them out of glass since some time in the fifties. That is quite the find.”

  I say, “How fascinating. Are you sure you want me to have it, Grace?”

  She nods. “It belongs to you. I may not be a witch, but I was thinking about you when I found it. No.” She frowns. “It found me.”

  I tilt my head at her, because Grace has never indicated she has any powers. “What do you mean?”

  Grace trains her gaze on me. “I had no reason to go look over at the rock where it was, but I did because I couldn’t shake the feeling I had to. I think this is supposed to remind you to watch for the signs.”

  She does have some sort of otherworld power. “Have you been holding out on me?” I ask.

  She smiles. “I have a healthy level of women’s intuition and do my best to tap into it. That’s all.”

  I rub my thumb over the sea glass, and now I’m sure it’s vibrating, because energy travels up to my hand. I close my eyes to focus on what it might be, but I’m distracted by the clatter of a bowl set in front of me. I glance at Grace and say, “Thank you. I’ll keep it close and remember the message.”

  Jean Luc and Grace join Izzy and me at the counter, and we all dig in to steaming bowls of chowder. The creamy goodness fills my mouth, but the underlying fear of danger steals my joy of a good meal. I reach over for the grinder and glance at Jean Luc to give him a hard time. “Needs pepper.”

  Isabelle chuckles next to me, and peppercorns scratch as I twist the grinder. I watch tiny black flecks land on the innocent ivory cream landscape. I’ve spent years teaching clan members to use their powers so they can remain safe. But now I’m the one facing peril. My peaceful life is about to get complicated.

  10

  Kelsey

  My bag thuds when I drop it on the floor of my new home. I didn’t bring much with me for my summer internship. I figured all I needed was my sturdy work clothes, a few casual outfits, and my tools. So when Jean Luc offered to help me move my stuff into my new apartment I declined. I smile as I walk over to gaze out the window over my kitchen sink. It looks out at the cove, and I imagine I’ll spend a lot of time standing here gazing at the boats.

  My stomach growls, and I tear myself away from the view to check out the stove. Jean Luc had Meg stock my fridge with a few essentials, and she went ahead and made me a couple meals to have until I got settled in. The heat element ticks as the oven warms up, and I pull out the container marked macaroni and cheese. I decide to go retrieve my other bag while I wait for dinner to be ready.

  I live in a building that houses a few of the single employees. It used to be an old house, and I live on the third floor, which I access by a set of stairs added on to the side of the home. My feet tap lightly as I jog down the two flights, and when I’m almost at the bottom my jaw drops, because coming my way is the super-sexy Val. Dare I hope he lives here too?

  He offers me a toothy smile that makes my knees weak as he asks, “Getting settled in okay?”

  I nod because my tongue is tied. Val removed his outer shirt at some point today, and he’s sporting a tight T-shirt and loose work pants. I have to force myself not to groan at the vision of his massive chest and arms that tempt me to touch them. I pause when I step onto the asphalt to say, “Just one more load.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I say. “It’s only one thing.”

  “I’m trying to get in your good graces so you don’t torture me at night.”

  Whoa. What? I frown as my heart flips as I imagine the ways I’d like to cause him pain. “Wh-What do you mean?”

  Val chuckles. “I live below you. And the floors are thin.”

  “Oh.” I smile as I give myself a mental eye roll. “Got it. I promise no loud music or wild parties after nine.” My stomach flutters with nerves. I’m going to be one floor and only a few decibels away from a man who is sure to monopolize my fantasies. Could this job get any better? I practically skip beside Val as we walk to my car.

  He asks, “What do you have planned for dinner?”

  Oh my god. Is he asking me-- Whoa, Kelsey, he’s being nice. I conveniently push the mac and cheese in my oven out of my mind and say, “I hadn’t thought that far.”

  I stop at my car, and the hatch groans as I lift it. Val says, “Then come down to my place and let me cook for you.”

  “Really?” I ask. Val leans in my car to grab my bag, and when he bends over I check out his butt. Squeezable. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “You won’t be.” He slams my car door. “I’d like the company.”

  “Well, in that case, what are you making?”

  “I’ve got a nice piece of salmon I was going to grill.” He hoists my bag over his shoulder as if it’s a pillow. “Do you like fish?”

  “Love it.” The wood stairs creak as we climb them, and I automatically ask, “Can I bring anything?” I catch myself because it’s not as if I’ve got a stocked pantry. “Oh. Ah--”

  Val says, “Why don’t you bring the mac and cheese in your oven?”

  My jaw drops as his eyes twinkle in amusement, and I fight my flush. “Busted.” But how did he know?

  We’re at my door, and Val winks as he hands me my bag. “Come down when you’re ready, and I’ll put the fish on.”

  “Thanks.” I close my door behind me as a grin covers my face. I have the best apartment ever, the coolest job ever, and the way things are going, I might arguably have the hottest neighbor ever too. I let out a tiny squeal, mindful that anything too loud Val will hear, as I hug myself and twirl around the room. I want to call my mom, but then think about how upset she was I wanted to come here. I’m afraid we’d end up in another argument, so I ignore the urge and go freshen up instead.

  Fifteen minutes later, I make my way to Val’s. He opens his door before I get to it, and I’m grateful, since I have a hot dish in both hands. I say, “Wow, the walls must be really thin if you heard me coming.”

  Val took a shower, and his hair is still wet. It’s combed back from his face, and I notice he’s got a solid square jaw to matches his brawny stature, and the combination reminds me of a Viking. When he takes the hot casserole from me I catch a whiff of a woodsy scent that makes me immediately recall the bear dream I used to have. This isn’t the guy who was in them, but it doesn’t stop me from imagining Val taking his place.

  He says, “The stairs are noisy. Be glad you live on the top floor.”

  When I step inside his apartment I notice it’s bigger than mine, and a small table is set on the left in a small area that has French doors leading to a deck. He has the same amazing view of the ocean I have, and I envision sitting out in the morning sun with a cup of coffee while gazing at the water. His kitchen is on my right and set in between two countertops, and past it is a living room.

  The pasta dish rattles on the stovetop as Val sets it down and asks, “Would you like a glass of white wine?”

  “That sounds lovely.” I glance at the small dinner table to notice it’s set and even has candles. I don’t want to assume this is a date, but I can’t help but smile because he’s going for ambiance. I ask, “What can I do to help?”

  Val drizzles olive oil over asparagus that’s on a metal platter. He says, “Grab the Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge and open it for us.” Two wine glasses clink on the countertop when he sets them down, and he hands me a wine key. “I’m going to go turn on the grill.”

  As I work on the bottle I gaze around to find Val has a love for things nautical. Vintage lanterns and brass boat fixtures clutter shelves along
with sea urchins, shells, and pieces of driftwood. A boat’s old steering wheel has been turned into a coffee table set before a worn leather couch. There’s a strong bachelor feel that makes me think he’s definitely single.

  When Val returns from the deck he asks, “Where are you from, Kelsey?” He walks over and takes his glass.

  The countertop is cool on my back as I lean against it and say, “I grew up in a small town in Maine. I went to boat-building school in Kennebunkport before coming here.” I ask, “What about you?” I sip my wine, and the tart flavor fills my mouth before I swallow.

  “Mostly I’ve always lived here. I did go to McGill University to get an engineering degree, but Safe Harbor will always be my home.” A drawer scrapes open, and Val pulls out a box of matches.

  I walk over to the glass doors that lead to the deck and gaze out at the ocean. “I can see why.” The acrid odor of sulfur fills the air as Val lights the candles, and a tiny shiver passes through me. I get pulled away for a second as I remember my grandmother saying that sensation means someone is walking over your grave. I never quite got what it meant, though. I let it pass and return to the moment to say, “I know it’s probably foolish of me to hope, but I’d like to stay for longer than my summer internship allows.” I turn to face Val. “What do you think my chances of getting a permanent job are?”

  He smiles. “He’s taken on interns who stay. Prove your worth, and Jean Luc won’t want to let you go.”

  I lift my glass and smile as I bounce on my feet a little. “Good, because that’s the plan.”

  Val grins at my display of happiness as he walks toward me holding the asparagus and fish in his hands. The brass handle of the door is cold in my hand as I open it for him. While it’s a bit cold outside for just a sweater, I say, “Let me get your wine, and I’ll keep you company while you grill.”

  Fish sizzles over the fire when I get outside, and the smoky scent is mixed with the briny air of low tide. I inhale it and sigh. “I might be in heaven.”

  “You like the smell of the mudflats?” Val takes a sip of his wine.

  I nod. “I suppose it’s disgusting to some, but to me it brings back memories of clamming with my grandfather and searching for sea glass with my mother and grandmother.”

  “Oh, I get it.” I notice the tiny lines by his eyes when he smiles and wonder how old Val is as he says, “I love the smell too.” I tug my sweater closer as the breeze chills me, and Val frowns. “You’re cold. Go inside.”

  I shake my head, because I want to find out more about my sexy neighbor. “I’m fine. Tell me about your family.”

  “I’m a twin, and my sister lives in town with her husband. They have triplets.”

  “Multiples must run in your family. How fun.”

  “It’s a cl--common thing around here.” Val turns to the grill and flips the fish as he asks, “Do you have sisters and brothers?”

  “No. It’s just me, my mom, and my grandparents.” A shiver runs down my spine, and Val scowls. “You are cold.” He begins to rub my arms with his large hands, and I gasp as what feels similar to an electric shock runs through me. Although there is nothing unpleasant about it. He pauses as his eyes widen, but his face breaks into a smile quickly, and he says, “Let’s get you inside. Dinner is done.”

  Now I’m trembling, but it’s not from the cold. It’s as if every cell in my body was awakened and they’re all clamoring for Val to do more than touch me. I reach for the door to let us in, and my mind flashes to the bear that used to visit me in my dreams. Only this time, I’m not scared.

  11

  Nadia

  I place my hand on my distended belly and sigh.

  Darin asks, “Did you get enough?”

  “I think so, but four mega meals’ worth of fries might have been too much. I’m kind of queasy.”

  He chuckles as I glance out the window of the Hummer we ended up in after two car changes, and I notice the state of Massachusetts welcome sign. We’re still hours away from home, but the distance between the hunters and us is great enough that now I can relax. I say, “I need to use a bathroom at the next rest stop, please.”

  I flash back to the sweet man who showed me the tunnel to the bus station, and now the food in my stomach feels like a lead ball. The hunters were waiting for me at the top of the stairs from that escape route, and I can’t fathom any way they could have found me without talking to the cook. The flush of rage surges in me as I remember the blood that coated the handcuffs they put on me. Nothing pisses me off more than when innocent people get hurt because some ignorant group of humans is convinced werebear are evil. I have the men’s faces memorized, and I look forward to the time when I might be able to avenge the cook’s death.

  A blue sign announces the rest area is two miles ahead, and a paper sack rustles as I gather the fast-food garbage. I flip the visor down to assess the damage to my hair and makeup. I had a chance to comb through my locks in the limo, but my face could use some work. I retrieve a napkin from a bag and grab a handful of ice cubes from a drink to melt in my hand for moisture. The paper’s rough texture scratches at my skin as I clean off the smeared mascara.

  Once I look presentable I take stock of my dress. The silk is smooth in my fingers as I straighten it out. While the beaded gown appears as if it were wadded up in a ball at the bottom of my closet for a week, it’s only torn in the front, and I can bunch it up in my hands to walk inside. I squirm a bit as the wires in the bodice dig into my flesh. I’d do just about anything for a loose pair of sweatpants right now. But my physical discomfort is a small price to pay for safety, and the sooner I can get back to the clan, the better.

  The rest area is not a major one, and it has a small parking lot near woodlands. The functional building has vending machines and bathrooms. As we walk toward the bathrooms I realize most of the drivers are road weary, and the two we pass barely take notice of the man in the dark suit and me in my rumpled dress looking like a prom date gone bad. The door creaks as Darin tugs it open for me, and he says, “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

  The tile floor of the ladies’ room is cold under my bare feet, and a draft makes me glance up to see a window is cracked open. Tiny hairs stand up on my body as I replay what happened in the bathroom at the fundraiser earlier today when my guard was down. Darin is trained to spot someone following us, so even though I doubt the hunters are here, I still listen carefully for unusual sounds.

  Another woman is in a stall a few down from me, and I’m positive we’re alone. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, and when I’m at the sink two girls come in. Soap is slippery on my fingers as I wash up and listen to their idle chatter as they go about their business. I relax, because hunters don’t tend to make a public scene.

  When I return to the lobby I don’t see Darin. I wonder if maybe he went to the bathroom too, so I wander over to the brochures. Bright colors attract my gaze as I read the covers describing water parks, hiking trails, and quaint inns. I don’t spend too long browsing, because Darin’s absence makes me anxious. I decide to check to make sure he isn’t outside.

  We parked close to the entrance, and when I look out the door, it appears Darin is waiting for me in the car. That’s odd, because I was sure he said he’d wait in the lobby. I sigh and push my way outside. An older woman is approaching me, and she glances at my bare feet with a scowl. The spring temperature is cold, and I’m so used to pretending I have the same needs humans do, I wrap my arms around myself as if I’m trying to stay warm.

  As I get closer to the Hummer I hear Darin ask, “What do you want with us?”

  Crap! While I can’t see anyone, I bet someone’s watching me, and I do my best not to flinch or slow down my steps as I walk. A man I don’t recognize whispers, “Shut up. We know your kind have sensitive hearing.”

  I want to know how many men so I can figure out a plan. I whisper at a level only Darin can detect. “Can we take them?”

  His head bows and he runs his finger
s through his hair with two fingers extended. I almost laugh at the hunters’ stupidity. You’d think after I slipped away twice they’d have sent more men. Squealing tires make me glance over to discover three trucks on steroids heading toward the Hummer. My stomach clenches, because I was wrong. This time I stop moving as the vehicles surround Darin.

  Blood rushes through my veins as my heart thuds in my chest. My instinct is to shift and attack. But we’re in public, and I’m also trained to stay human at all costs. Damn it! Darin stares at me and whispers, “Run.”

  I shake my head. I’d never leave a man alone. A metal door squeaks open from one of the trucks, and the guy I growled at in the bus station walks toward me with a big grin. His partner climbs out to join him, and he says, “You can run, but you can’t hide.” He pats his chest, and I gaze down at my jeweled bodice. There’s a crystal flower in the middle, and realization hits me. I’m wearing a freaking tracker!

  A rumble vibrates through my chest. Oh, I can run. Just watch me. If I can get Darin out of the Hummer, we can get away. The thing about hunters is nobody believes them about werebear, because the groups have cult-like tendencies, which make them less than credible. And even in extenuating circumstances like now, enough of my kind are in law enforcement to make sure no solid proof ever gets too far. I think we have to chance it. I whisper low while moving my mouth as little as possible. “We both run.”

  A woman cuts across the grass to avoid us as she jogs to her car, and one of the hunters I don’t recognize says, “Honey, it’s time to go home. Your mother is so worried.”

  Great. He’s making me look like a runaway. I let out a low growl as more men get out of their trucks. I let my fangs extend and my claws practically snap out as I spread my feet in a defensive stance. I smile when I see six sets of eyes widen. I take a leap of faith any gunshot fired will only wound me, and I hope I provide enough of a distraction that Darin can get away too.