Bear's Christmas Bride: BBW Werebear Holiday Romance (Shifter Grove Brides Book 8)

by Anya Nowlan

“This is Mayer,” Cisco said gruffly as the call connected.

  “Hey, honey. It’s me. I made it to Shifter Grove,” Christine said, then biting down on her lower lip as she silently prayed that the gear would change without incident.

  It didn’t. Well, at least not before making a few sounds like it was going to rattle off the car first.

  “What is that damn racket?” Cisco asked, his tone accepting no nonsense and allowing no one to waste his time.

  Interruptions weren’t welcome in his daily regime. Not even from his fiancée.

  “Just the car. They gave me a stick shift,” Christine said with an apologetic sigh as she made a left turn onto what could be called the main street of Shifter Grove.

  “You can’t drive a stick?” he huffed, the amount of derision in his tone easily twice what that werebear had shown her.

  Which wasn’t to take anything away from Finn, but simply to illustrate how… difficult her fiancé could be at times.

  “Never mind that,” Christine started. “We have bigger problems. They’re screwing up the house, Cisco!”

  “Well, take care of it, then,” he said, sounding like he was barely listening.

  That was likely because he was.

  Cisco Mayer owned two banks and going against the grain of what was common for men in his field of work, he chose to operate out of Los Angeles. Christine could bet that the weretiger executive was either watching a hockey game right now, a rerun of a hockey game, or that he was putting her on mute whenever he wasn’t speaking just to yell at an employee.

  Sometimes, he did all three of those things at the same time.

  He was an impressive multitasker.

  “But the wedding,” Christine started tentatively. “I mean, there’s a lot to do here and a lot to plan for the ceremony, and-“

  “Don’t we have people for that?” Cisco asked. “You know, to deal with the wedding… stuff? You take care of the house and come back a day before and it’ll be fine. Everything will be great. Better than great.”

  “Well, I was going to stay for a couple of days, but… my bachelorette party is supposed to be next weekend and-“

  “Christine, you know how important that house is to me,” Cisco said, his voice dropping an octave and growing more serious.

  Christine pursed her lips, letting out a breath.

  “I do know how important the house is for you, yes.”

  “Then do as I ask you to. We are going to spend our honeymoon in there and that’s that. If I have to fly you out of that damn nameless town ten minutes before the wedding and right back there before I can come up, then that’s just how it needs to be.”

  There was a pause in his monologue, timed perfectly so Christine could fill the silence with another moaning gear shift.

  “You better be treating that house with more care than you are that vehicle, Christine,” Cisco said.

  Christine could imagine her fiancé checking his watch, counting down the seconds he was wasting on this conversation. She barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Of course I am. Talk to you later, honey.”

  “Sure,” came Cisco’s curt response, and then the line went dead.

  “Sure,” Christine echoed, shaking her head.

  What else had she expected from the man she was set to get married to in two weeks, anyway?

  It was dark now, and Christine was well and truly fed up with the day. Not only had she suffered through impossible roads, driving from Idaho Falls to Shifter Grove, in a car that would not cooperate with her, but all her plans had been completely destroyed in the span of a couple of hours.

  Shifter Grove, despite being what one could refer to as a booming hockey town now that the Shifter Grove Shovelers were a thing – a major National Shifter Hockey League team -, seemed to think that providing accommodations for people was so last century. The one place that operated as an inn was completely booked solid and she couldn’t find so much as a spot on the floor to sleep on.

  The rental cabins had also been booked due to a big home game with the team in a couple of days. Ultimately, that left Christine with only one option.

  Sleeping at her soon-to-be house.

  Which barely had a roof over it.

  She made it up the low hill that led to the build site and breathed out a sigh of relief as she saw the formerly crowded yard devoid of all signs of life. All the cars were gone and as she brought her little red hatchback to a stop in the snow, uncertain if she was going to get it out the next time, she felt the tiniest bit of hope in her chest.

  I just need a good night’s sleep. Then everything will be fine. I’ll have this place fixed up and it’ll be great and I’ll get home, have my party, deal with the wedding planner and-… Has she even called me today?

  Does it matter?

  Blowing a lock of hair out of her face, she clambered out of the car, throwing her purse over her shoulder. She trudged through the snow, which seemed to never stop falling in this neck of the woods, and by the time she made it up to the porch she felt more like the abominable snowman than an architect and the soon to be Mrs. Cisco Mayer.

  Curious how that last bit didn’t make her swell up with pride half as much as it had a year ago.

  With her nose in her phone, trying to will some life into it because she was getting zero bars, she literally walked into something thick, strong and solid, right in the middle of the porch.

  “Spirits above,” she gasped, clutching at her chest with one hand and nearly dropping the phone.

  His scent hit her nose now and as much as it filled her body up with a purr of anticipation, it also made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

  Him!

  “Didn’t we already have this conversation once today?” Finn Themps asked, looking down at her from his impossible heights.

  She could just make out the way he was cocking his brow at her in the dark and that alone made her blood boil and her insides twist. Or at least that was her interpretation of the reason her core seemed to pulse and her breath seemed to catch a little in her throat as she looked up into his dark brown eyes.

  I just can’t catch a break today, can I?

  3

  Finn

  I just can’t catch a break today, can I? Finn thought with a muffled sigh, though it came with equal parts ignoring the somewhat unexpected happy grumblings of his bear at seeing little Miss Difficult again.

  “Come to make my life difficult again, Miss Landry?”

  He reached behind him and flicked on the newly installed porch light that the guys had put in just before they left. Worked like a charm.

  She was bathed in light and he could see the snowflakes on her nose and coating her hair and that fur-lined hat of hers. He wanted to take the silly hat off of her head, as well as wipe the snowflakes off of her nose. Of course, he did neither.

  “What are you still doing here?” she asked with not a little bit of exasperation, elbowing past him and disappearing into the house in the span of the same sentence.

  “I work here,” he protested with a growl, turning around and walking in right after her, turning on the lights for the house along the way. “And I might as well ask you the same thing.”

  “Didn’t your boss talk to you? Tyler?” Christine called, not bothering to look back at him as she wandered through the rooms, making little huffs and disapproving noises every now and then.

  “Well, obviously he did, because how else would I know your name?” Finn said with a sigh, resigning himself to walking after her.

  Every now and then, he’d sweep a handful of loose wires out of her way, or steer her physically to the right or left of where she was going by grabbing her shoulder again, because she came dangerously close to stepping into holes that would come with a ten-foot drop right into the basement.

  She didn’t even seem to notice, studying the house instead of paying attention to where she was going in terms of her own safety.

  What an odd little
cookie, Finn mused, trying to get over the fact that he kept taking deeper breaths around her, because she smelled so damn good.

  Like cinnamon and tangerine. Like Christmas. It might have been the first time he didn’t mind those scents.

  “Are you going to answer my question or what?”

  “Hmm?” Christine asked, finally bothering to glance back at him with those expressive blue eyes of her.

  She had the longest lashes to go with those baby blues. She really was a sight… but she was also a pain in the ass, and as things stood, Finn was determined to deal with the latter and ignore the former.

  “Why are you here, Miss Landry? You shouldn’t be wandering around here in the dark,” Finn pressed out through clenched teeth as Christine ran a hand over a particularly delicate piece of carving that was going to be the bottom panel of the kitchen island.

  “This is beautiful,” she said, ignoring him once again. “Who made it?”

  The carving that she was admiring depicted a scene between a large cat and a bear fighting, with another feline stalking above them in the trees. It wasn’t finished yet, but it was getting there.

  “I did,” he said, stepping up behind her and looking at his handiwork.

  It was coming along nicely, if he did say so himself. When he wasn’t busy making sure everything else ran as smoothly as he could, he’d wile away his time with the carvings. That was exactly what he’d been doing when Tyler arrived to sit him down and have a talk about Christine Landry and being as accommodating as he could with her.

  A task which seemed to be meant for a bigger bear than Finn Themps at the moment.

  “It’s gorgeous,” she gasped, looking at him with newfound interest. “You’re an artist.”

  “I’m a foreman, and you’re trespassing,” he said, before biting his tongue. “I mean, it’s late and this site is dangerous. If you want to get a tour, I’ll be glad to give you one tomorrow, Miss Landry.”

  “My name’s Christine,” she said matter-of-factly, some of that admiration disappearing from her eyes, to Finn’s great disappointment. “And I’m afraid that won’t work. I’m going to stay here. If I understand correctly, one of the back studies is supposed to be pretty much done, right? The one next to the secondary downstairs bath? It should be right through here.”

  Christine took off again and before he could catch her, she’d disappeared into the building.

  Damn, she’s fast, he thought with a growl.

  Without him really noticing, the corner of his mouth hitched up in the slightest of smiles.

  “Christine!” he called, rushing in after her.

  Secondary study, he thought, running through the schematics of the house mentally.

  He found her about a minute later, standing in the middle of a room that was, as she’d predicted, mostly done. The hardwood floor was laid down and sanded. The insulation was put in, but the wall boards hadn’t been nailed in yet. At least it had windows, and a roof.

  “This will do,” she announced, looking like a mother staring down a particularly filthy child. “We’ll make it work.”

  “We?” Finn asked, only to find the curvy, but entirely too fast woman blaze past him again.

  This time, he wouldn’t lose sight of her.

  “What exactly are you intending to do?”

  “I’m going to stay in that room until the bunch of you get my house built to my standards,” she announced, rummaging through the trunk of her car when Finn caught up with her.

  She loaded his arms up with what appeared to be an inflatable mattress, a portable electric heater, and more blankets than Finn could count. When she was done, Finn could barely see over the top of the pile.

  “You can’t!” he said, more hearing than seeing when she pulled out her suitcase and slammed the trunk shut.

  “Why not? There’s nowhere else to stay and as far as I’m concerned, you can’t yet be trusted with my house anyway. So I’m going to stay here until I’m satisfied with it. Now get going, I don’t have all night.”

  Finn wouldn’t budge. It was a good thing she couldn’t see his face, because he was fuming behind that pile of blankets.

  “What’s the magic word?” he ground out.

  “Oh for spirits’ sake… please? Is that what you want? Please, pretty please, help me carry things inside the building that should be further along than it is so that I can go to sleep before your crew shows up. Please and thank you.”

  Despite his worst intentions, Finn budged and walked forward, mumbling under his breath about all the things he thought about this little upstart of a woman and her controlling ways.

  “Watch your step,” she said, as he stomped up the three steps that led up to the porch.

  “I will.”

  Not only was she fast, and incredibly sexy, and entirely off-limits, but she was also bossy and with more fire to her than most of the women Finn had ever met put together. He wasn’t sure yet whether that was a good thing, or a bad thing.

  Why not both?

  “You can put them down here,” She said as they made it back to her would-be bedroom and he carefully put down her stuff with Christine’s help.

  He stood up straight as Christine threw off her hat and coat and started fussing with the blankets and heater. Finn was certain he was supposed to say something, but he completely lost his capability of speech as he watched the furious little tornado whisk around the room.

  He’d been right. There was plenty of curve to her. Her hair was a cascading waterfall of honey gold down her back and the way she moved was power and grace combined.

  He was, for maybe the first time in his life, speechless.

  “Thank you, Finn,” Christine said suddenly, having caught Finn still standing in the middle of the room with a slightly baffled look on his face.

  That shook him out of it. Well, literally, because he shook his head and took a step back.

  “Alright. I’m behind the house, in the trailer. You can’t miss it. The boys come in at six in the morning so I suggest you get up before that, unless you want a lot of curious onlookers commenting on your morning routine. There’s no water yet.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Good night,” she called after him and then continued her fussing.

  Finn couldn’t help but chuckle as he tracked through the house and went out the back door.

  What a weird woman.

  And that was putting it lightly.

  4

  Christine

  Christine was up at the crack of dawn just like Finn had told her to. Though she wasn’t entirely certain why she was listening to anything that man said to begin with.

  That’s unfair. He helped you with your stuff, she reminded herself as she blazed through the house, clutching her schematic-filled tablet to her chest.

  It wasn’t like she’d given him much of a choice, but still. He’d shown some bigness of character, as far as Christine was concerned, and she figured she might as well return him the favor.

  By only telling him to rebuild half of the house.

  “You want me to do what?” Finn asked, staring down at her like she’d just grown an extra head or two.

  Checking both shoulders, Christine could determine that she had, in fact, not done so.

  “You heard me,” she said, spinning the tablet around and pointing at certain spots on the second floor ceiling schematics. “This is all wrong. You know it, I know it, whoever built it knows it. It needs to be changed.”

  It was early enough in the morning that Finn still had that groggy look of a night well slept in his eyes, but it seemed to be disappearing with a vengeance. As far as Christine could determine, that only gave her a couple of minutes to ram her changes through, before Finn could really put up a decent fight.

  The Warfangs had made themselves expressly clear to her. Anything she wanted changed had to go through Finn and Finn alone. So through Finn it would go.

  “Let me see that,” Finn grumbled, grabbing the ta
blet and glowering up at the ceilings.

  Christine had envisioned sloping curves there, and the work that had been done was all hard angles and strict lines. She wasn’t going to have any of it, and this was just the first of many changes she was determined to talk to Finn about.

  “Okay, so, you see here,” he said, pointing at the outer corners of the large dome she’d designed. “If we keep that in, that means the roof ends up having to be a foot higher in the middle. Why we didn’t do that, is because getting a roof through the building commission that’s a foot taller than the one that was signed off on isn’t going to work.”

  “So why were we not informed?” Christine asked, glowering at Finn as he gave her back the tablet.

  This time, they didn’t have too much of an entourage or a paid viewership to listen in on their conversation – Christine could only assume it was because of Finn having talked to his crew before they could make a fuss of her being on the site – but she could tell that anyone in the near vicinity was still keeping their ear on the conversation.

  “You were. Your partner-“

  “My fiancé,” Christine rushed to correct him.

  “Your whatever got an e-mail and he confirmed it. It’s because of the building codes we have in this county. We get a lot more snowfall than most anywhere else and that means the roof has to be able to hold more weight. It makes sense that you wouldn’t know about it, though. Your technical consultant should have pointed it out before the schematics came to us.”

  Finn shrugged his shoulders. Christine could recognize an attempt at soothing her feathers when she saw one.

  The question was, why was Finn doing it?

  She pursed her lips, pushing down the very real flutter of warm excitement that bloomed in her from the thought of him going out of his way for her, and got back to business.

  “Fine,” she said, quietly tucking away the realization that Cisco hadn’t so much as bothered to tell her that the Warfangs had sent any sort of an update on the house, let alone that her schematics had to be altered. “But I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to excuse all of them away this easily.”