by Erin Havoc
Table of Contents
Opening Page
Blurb
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Chapter 08
Epilogue
Epilogue
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Backmatter
Copyright
HUNTER
SHIFTER DATING APP SERIES
* * *
ERIN HAVOC
A BBW Firefighter Shifter Romance
ROBIN
Bad things happen.
But I can’t move on from this one.
I want to forget. Learn to enjoy life again.
Find a nice man to settle with.
I have just one rule. No shifters.
HUNTER
Bad things happen. They’re part of life.
And, sometimes, they lead us to our happiness.
Because of a tragedy, my mate is within my reach.
She’s been hurt, and she would want me…
If I weren’t a shifter.
1
ROBIN
My pinky toe slams against the corner of one especially sturdy cardboard box. Pain shoots up to my brain in a millisecond, and every muscle in my body grows taut.
“Fuck!” I cry out, the curse burning up my throat as I grunt and groan and jump back from the freaking box. My backside hits another as I hop on one foot, cradling the insulted one. “Fucking boxes from hell!”
My apartment is taken by them. All sizes. Some I’ve managed to write with a black sharpie what their contents are. Others were taped up after I lost the pen, so I just put them all in the living room. I’ll have to open and check them out one by one.
You always think you are frugal and have little stuff. This delusion lasts to the moment you have to pack everything you own. That was the moment I found out I had fifteen pairs of jeans. Why the hell do I own so many pants? Half I gave away to charity. The other half stuck with me, too attached to them to donate everything.
Besides, I need the prettiest ones for job interviews. A newspaper beckons me from the dining table, where I dropped it after having lunch in a tiny restaurant down the block. With a sigh, I decide to procrastinate a little longer with the unpacking section. I have a carry on with enough clothes for a week, in case the truck got lost or something. They’ll do.
Plopping down on a chair, I press my finger to my phone to unlock it, pulling the newspaper closer. Several friends have messaged me over the last couple of hours, telling me they’re going to miss me and all that. I don’t care about these messages. Truly, I want to leave that city behind me.
There’s one person I care to keep in contact though. She’s never been anything but good to me. And there’s one message from her.
Meghan: Let me know when you’re settled. xx
Dear Meghan. Such a good friend. She’s always been patient with my long-winded conversations about shifters. I release a tired laugh. And to think I was such a fangirl of them. Shifters. Being a curvy girl that had always been dismissed by human men as not good enough, I crossed my fingers and hoped one of those half-man, half-animal hunky guys would find me hot.
Things took a one-eighty. How crazy. I can’t even bear the idea of being in the same place as a shifter anymore.
Running my hands through my inky hair, I twist it between my fingers to keep the strands away from my face. But they are shorter than they used to be, at the base of my neck instead of my usual long hair. The twist doesn’t hold and my hair falls back to my face, making me grunt and puff.
Robin: I’m good. Procrastinating before I have to unpack everything. Going to look for a new job. xx
With that, I put the phone away and open the newspaper. It’s been forever since I checked one of these. Later tonight, I’ll find my laptop and search for jobs on the internet. But there is something so nice about buying a newspaper in a new town. Not recognizing the names of neighborhoods and not knowing who the big names are.
I flip the page to find a large image that would usually get me drooling. It seems to be in a fire station of sorts. There’s a fire truck to the back of the picture, as well as the characteristic pole to the other. The men in the picture are all impressively built, muscular, and they’re making a point of that. All shirtless, some flexing, smiles across all their faces.
The headline reads “Traditional Firefighter Calendar coming out in a month,” and the sub adds “First All-Shifters Fire Station keeps the tradition going. Pre-release already happening!”
My eyes bulge as I look back at the picture. All shifters? Wow, that’s crazy. So many men. There’s one in the back, the tallest and widest of all, with a sweet smile across his face... He’s handsome. Absolutely handsome, even in this poor print. And he’s a shifter, too. How crazy.
That would have gotten old Robin on fire. I’d possibly be finding an excuse to drop by the station tomorrow. Pretend I was lost or something. But no more. I’m over the shifter fashion, and for good reason.
Shaking my head, I flip the pages to the jobs section. I’m impressed to find some asking specifically for non-shifters. For a city proud of their all-shifters station, they do have some prejudices yet. But I guess that’s people, right? No group is either good or bad. There are always some that sucks.
Another sigh escapes me. I take notes of emails to send my curriculum to. Seller position, babysitter, waitress. I’m lucky I’ve saved up money these past years. Specialized jobs are all right to find even when you’re a curvy girl, but that’s not my case. I’ve never managed college. Never had the money. And I loved my job at the Curvy Boutique so much I thought I’d never leave it.
Things changed, and I’m a bit screwed up now. I’ve heard from headhunters that girls like me are not good sellers since we “scare people away”. Not good with kids because we are not good examples of healthy habits. Not good waiting tables because our large hips may bump into someone.
Yeah. I’ve heard that and so much more.
The Curvy Boutique was great since they were looking specifically for plus-sized girls that would wear their clothes and have the knowledge to talk about them. But the Boutique is in the past. Meghan was already working from home. They couldn’t afford two people working away from the store, and one so very far from the city.
My one desire was moving away. I needed to start new. A fresh beginning somewhere nobody knew me. Somewhere I would never have to face my fears, my anxieties. This town offers me that. I just have to find a job.
My heart aches every time I think of the night everything went to shit. My dreams, my goals, my silly shifter crush. It hurts so much sometimes I can’t breathe. So I avoid thinking about it.
One of the jobs is rather interesting, so I take notes of the email address and put a star next to it. The person requires a babysitter for a six-year-old girl, with urgency. If they have a rush, they won’t look twice at me, will they? They won’t decide I’m a bad influence because I have wide hips. They just need someone asap.
So I find my laptop and start with this one, and I pray to God it works quickly. After sending the emails, I jump to my feet and, slamming a fist to my palm, I grind my jaw and prepare to take on the rest of the unpacking. Or at least a part of it.
I’m dying to get another job. I need the distraction, desperately. Unpacking makes my body move, but my mind drifts. To what happened, and to what might go down in this new place. Maybe I find an escape. Maybe I find some man that treats me well and makes me forget the pains of life.
I don’t care about true mates anymore. Unlike everything I believed before, now I’m afraid of shifters. They’re much too strong. Stronger than me. If I have littl
e chance of fighting a man attacking me, I have even less with a shifter.
Even if there’s a mate out there for me… Sorry, pal, I’m not in the market anymore. Not for shifters anyway. It’s not prejudice. I’ve been through that and it burned me. Badly. It isn’t a girl’s fault if she fears for her life. Even if I know not every person is the same, the risk is too high.
The fear is real.
The man with the job offer answers within the hour. We exchange some emails where we settle an hour for me to show up on his place—tomorrow. With a smile on my lips, I press my hands together and thank my guardian angel. That was way quicker than I expected.
Once more, I drop the unpacking. My mind has wandered too far.
What I need is some pizza and Netflix. Maybe read a book after it. Drown in some fantasy, something with an intricate world-building so I’ll get lost in it and forget my problems. Forget the twist my life took.
Before I go to sleep, I separate some clothes for the next morning and brush my hair. The dark locks settle on the top of my shoulders, my bangs tickling my brows. I sigh into the bathroom mirror as I accept a lonely fate. Curvy girl, half-Asian, half-ruined for men. Sometimes I want to tell myself this gloom will pass.
But some days, it doesn’t feel this way. It doesn’t feel there’s anything after the black clouds. Just more darkness. More pain and getting used to it. Not overcoming, but forgetting there was anything other than this melancholic feeling.
It doesn’t scare me though. I’ve lost hope of ever finding any kind of real happiness. Robin of the dreams and the eagerness to find a forever partner is ready to settle with a nice guy who is not trash. That’s already enough. It doesn’t matter I don’t feel anything special. Any different tug.
What I need is a job. A distraction. And when I’m used to town, I’ll look for someone like this. Someone that finds me all right.
Because I know I’m never finding the one true guy. And even if I did, I don’t want him. Not if he’s a shifter.
2
HUNTER
The blond head darts off from one side of my living room to the other. Damn, she’s fast for a six-year-old kid. I had no idea they could be this quick.
“Brianna,” I call, following the blond head popping up from behind the couch across from where I sit. “Have you showered, darling?”
She presses her hands to the top of the couch and brings her body up, peeking at me with a smile. She’s missing one of her front teeth, and the grin endears the little girl to me even more. She’s the cutest thing. All cheeks, golden hair flowing to her shoulders, eyes bright and alive.
“Of course I have, uncle Hunter!” She rolls her eyes as if that’s been the stupidest question in the world. As if she hadn’t tried to skip shower yesterday and I almost had to shove her into the bathroom.
“Let me check!” I motion for her to approach. Already knowing what’s coming for her, her grin turns into a barely-held-back laugh as she intertwines her fingers on her back and takes a couple of steps in my direction.
I grip the girl and pull her closer, pretending to sniff her armpits and tickling her sides. She wreathes and guffaws, thrashing away from me.
“Uncle Hunter!” She cries. “You have to believe me!”
“Fine, fine.” I sigh dramatically, letting her go. She presses her arms to her body, grinning her toothless smile. “Then let’s get your hair done, monkey. Or you’ll make us get late again.”
She tilts her chin up. “I never get us late!”
“Sure thing,” I say, reaching out to tickle her again, but she waltzes away. “You didn’t even take thirty minutes changing clothes two days ago. Go on, grab your hair ties. I’ll braid your hair before the nanny gets here. Your uncle has to go to work so he can finance your addiction to pizza.”
Brianna giggles and darts from the living room, a trail of laughter pealing behind her. I flop back on the couch, pulling my phone. Yesterday, before I picked Brianna up from school, I visited the post office to drop my DNA sample.
Yeah, a DNA sample. The world has changed, hasn’t it? Now we suffer much less to find mates. We send spit in a tube and this app finds your mate for you. You still have to woo the woman, of course. But it’s so much easier than crossing the country after her. I check the app but, as expected, nothing changed. It’s too soon.
Checking the time, I call Brianna to hurry her up. The babysitter should be here anytime now. Robin Smith, I check once more. I’ve been lucky she responded to my ad so soon.
What a pity my sister didn’t have such luck. A car accident. One false turn on the road and both she and her husband were gone. They were still alive when they got to the hospital, but neither of them made it. The day it happened is forever ingrained in my memory. How my heart skipped when I received the news she had been in an accident. Our parents have been dead for long, so we were the only family for each other.
Striding into the hospital, it all felt like a dream. I half-expected to wake from it. The words from the doctor as he told me they didn’t survive filtered through a haze in my brain. It took me some time to even be able to cry.
But the time for crying is over. Brianna, my sister’s kid, is an orphan now. Her parents went out for dinner and left her with a nanny. Then they never came back.
She has me. And I have her. Thank God I have the means to bring the kid to live with me. She’s easy enough, lively, and funny, and we share pizza and watch movies and I take her to school. But now I have to get back to work, and she’s too young to stay home the entire day by herself.
The doorbell rings. My thoughts summoned the babysitter. I laugh at my humorless joke as I get to my feet and stride to the door. She’s early, but that’s even better for me. I’m dying to get back to work. I miss the life I’ve built for myself, the job, the saving, and managing the other guys. These days away, holding back from grief so I could care for Brianna, have been tough.
“See?” I call over my shoulder in the direction of the rooms. My place is a two-dorm apartment. The second room was my gym, but I had to get rid of the apparel in one afternoon so I could bring Brianna’s stuff. It’s hers now, unrecognizable when I think about the man cave I had in there. The walls are pink and lilac, the comforter is always a shade of yellow, and her furniture is white. She’s in a pony phase. Never seen so many horses inside one room. “The nanny’s here and your hair is not ready!”
“My hair is fine!” She peeks from her door, several ties around her wrist as she chooses a color. Never seen so many kinds of hair ties, too. “She can do it for me so you can go to work!”
“But then your first impression will be that of a disheveled monkey!” I smirk at her, and she sticks her tongue out at me, pressing her tiny hands over her tresses to settle them down.
Grabbing the doorknob, I turn it, a smile across my face as I seek the waiting babysitter. When our eyes meet, I almost lose my shit.
Not in a bad way. Hell no.
My cock twitches inside my pants, hardening. Quick. I look down at it, taken aback, then back up at the woman standing on my porch.
Wow. Just... Wow. My heart jerks inside my chest, my entire body having this crazy reaction to her proximity. She’s curvy, large hips, heavy breasts, and I’m drooling even if she’s dressed in sensitive shirt and jeans. Her features are perfectly well drawn, something akin to those old portraits we see in history books. She’s a muse. Dark, deep eyes, her inky hair draping to the top of her shoulders in smooth strands.
My fingers itch and curl to rope along her hair. Pull at the roots. I want to taste her, feel her lips on mine.
Never had a reaction like this to a woman. Never felt so fast, so intensely...
She doesn’t move. She just stands there, staring at me like an apparition. Hot as sin. Beautiful as spring.
Finally, I notice my bear thrashing inside of me. Feeling caged, he throws himself against the fences of my control, commanding me to let him be. To free him. He’s always been more on the quiet side, bu
t he’s damn out of his mind.
One word repeats in the back of my mind.
Mate mate mate
He repeats it. Her smell reaches me in waves, and I confirm what my bear has been telling me. She’s the one. Somehow my mate has just knocked on my door. My mouth dropping, I open the door wider so she can walk in. Into my place, into my life.
“Hi,” she greets, and her voice is music to my ears. “I’m Robin Smith. The babysitter.”
I nod, my brows shooting up in comprehension. “Oh.”
She nods, and I nod too. Still staring. Can’t stop staring at her. God, I need to see her ass. It must be the plumpest, finest ass in the world. I’m dying to have her legs around my head, locking me tight to her delicious cun—
“Hi!” Brianna voices from behind me and a cold shower drops over my body. I shut the door as Robin sways in and I half-turn to my niece, digging a hand into my pocket to hide the absurd erection I can’t get rid of.
“Hello there,” Robin says with a soft smile. “I’m Robin.”
“I’m Brianna.” The girl approaches and shoots a hand out. Robin laughs and takes her hand, shaking it.
Even her laugh is perfect.
I’m going to have some trouble flirting with my niece around, but this is my mate. She entered my life in the most unexpected way. But it doesn’t matter. The way she comes in doesn’t matter. What matters is that I have to make her stay.
3
ROBIN
The luck I have been missing in life, I found in this new job.
Literally, I’ve never, ever been a nanny before. The bus travel to the place was filled with anxiety. I may have chewed my nails to the root. What would the employer expect of me? He mentioned in the email he was raising a six-years-old by himself and his job took the majority of his time. I wondered if he was some kind of rich man who had a baby out of wedlock. The romances I used to read flicked across my mind. The idea would be strangely attractive to the old Robin.