by Sophie Stern
“She needs to go!” Lester points at me.
Ronan just rolls his eyes and turns to Sam. “Lester has filed harassment charges against Lara for being a human in shifter country. I’ll be representing her in court next week.”
Sam glances at Ronan’s wrist and raises an eyebrow.
“We’re also newly mated.”
“Mated to a human!” Lester spits on the ground. “Despicable.”
“Hey!” I shout because this has gone on long enough. Ronan looks like he’s too deep breaths away from murdering Lester in front of all of these people, and the last thing I want to deal with is my mate going to jail for something like this.
I march over to the crowd and squirm my way past Sam and over to Lester. He glares at me, but he doesn’t say anything, which I guess it good. I move close to Lester and lower my voice. What I’m going to say doesn’t need to be heard by anyone but us. I’m sure the shifters will be able to hear if they really try, but I’m going to pretend they’re giving us privacy.
“Lester,” I whisper. “I know what happened to you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t do it. I wasn’t here. I wasn’t responsible, but I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through or what it must have been like to have to live next to me, but I’m really, really sorry.” I shake my head and wish I could stop crying, but I can’t.
I’m crying for Lester.
I’m crying for me.
I’m crying for all the pain this ordeal has caused everyone involved.
“You don’t have to take me to court next week,” I tell him. “I’ll leave, okay? I’ll leave and you can be in peace. I wish you had just come and talked to me instead of trying to scare me away. I’m not easily frightened, Lester, but I do have a heart. If you had just talked to me, I’m sure we could have come to an understanding. As it is, you didn’t have to burn my house down. You could have just communicated.”
Lester looks at me like he’s shocked, like he can’t believe someone spoke to him without screaming, like he can’t believe a human could have compassion, like he can’t believe I’m actually saying the words that I am.
“I know that words don’t make up for what you lost,” I say. “My apology will never be enough. You were hurt by a human and now you hate them. I understand. I’d probably feel the same way. As it is, I can’t fix what happened, but I can stop the past from haunting you every time you see my face, so as of right now, I’m moving in with my mate, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
By the time I turn and start to walk away, I can hear sniffles in the crowd and I know that the other shifters heard the discussion, too.
Sam grabs my arm, “Are you going to press charges?” He asks. “The police are here now if you want to.” He jerks his head toward a couple of officers who are standing in front of my house.
“Press charges against who?” I ask innocently. “As best as I can tell, this was the work of hooligans, Sam. Maybe parents need to watch their kids better,” I shrug. “It’s certainly not something I can press charges over.”
I start to walk away when I feel a gentle touch on my arm. I turn to see Lester with tears streaming down his own face.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
Ronan is growling, but another shifter is trying to calm him down so Lester and I can speak. For the first time, we’re having a real conversation, and I hope we can come to an understanding after all of this is over.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” he shakes his head. “I’ve been angry for a long time and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for what I did. I was wrong. I understand if you want me in jail.”
“The only thing I want for you is peace, sir,” I touch his arm briefly, and then I look at the shifters who are holding Ronan. “I’d like my mate back, please,” I say, and they instantly release him.
Ronan growls at Lester again, but comes to me and wraps his arms around me. Then together, we walk back to my house where the fire department is dousing the flames.
“You were wonderful,” he says. “Very patient, very kind.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself, wolf.”
“Did you like seeing me shift?” He asks excitedly, nervously.
“Ronan, you’re the most beautiful wolf I’ve ever seen,” I tell him honestly. “And I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”
We turn back to my house. The fire department is doing their best, but I know this place can’t be saved. Honestly, maybe that’s for the best. Maybe it’s best that Lester gets a fresh start with no neighbors for awhile. Maybe it’s best that he has some time to heal. Maybe it’s best that he has some space where he can mourn in solitude.
And maybe it’s time for me to let go of my old dreams and cling to the new ones.
I’m no longer just some girl, no longer just a schoolteacher. Now I’m Ronan’s mate. I’m Mrs. Casa. I’m his bride. And when I think of the circumstances that brought us together, I realize I can’t be upset with Lester. He made poor choices, terrible choices, but in the end, everything worked out.
In the end, I found my mate.
In the end, I got to fall in love.
In the end, I got to be happy.
And that’s the best ending of all.
Epilogue
Lara
Three Months Later
I’m practically jumping up and down as I wait for Ronan to finish meeting with his client. He’s not going to believe the incredible news. He’s not going to believe what I have to tell him.
The last three months have been incredible. We’ve spent all of our free time making love, making love, and making love. Since we’re living at his place now, along with Fee and Lyon, we’ve been driving them absolutely crazy with our incessant sex.
That’s fine.
They’ll understand when they have mates.
Although after I tell Ronan the news, he might suggest we move to a bigger place. I’m not sure.
What I am sure of is that I’m the happiest woman in the world.
What I am sure of is that even though our relationship was forged in a time of darkness, things are really looking up.
Lester called me last week to apologize again and to tell me that he’s seeking grief counseling. After all of this time, he’s finally deciding to get some professional help. I couldn’t be happier for the man. I know a lot of people think I should have fought harder to have him imprisoned, but everyone deserves a second chance.
Besides, I think it’s what his wife would have wanted.
“Thank you for coming,” I hear Ronan’s voice as his office door opens. I’m sitting at the top of the stairs and I watch as he leads his client to the door and sees him off. Once the front door is closed, he turns around and smiles up at me. “Been waiting long, baby?"
“Not long at all,” I say, scurrying down the stairs.
I wrap my arms around him and kiss him sweetly on the mouth.
“I have some news for you,” I whisper, and Ronan smiles. I wonder if he has any idea what I’m about to say. I wonder if he has an inkling.
“Tell me, princess,” he says.
“You’re going to be a daddy, Ronan.” I touch my belly and smile up at him. “We’re going to have a cub.”
He grins and kisses me. Then he lifts me up and spins me around as I laugh and laugh and laugh.
I’m going to be a mother.
And I’ve never been happier.
THE END
Bearly Legal
Shifters at Law
Sophie Stern
For my mate
Landon Fee is a bear who doesn't take "no" for an answer. Whether he's winning cases or tutoring kids after work, he pours his heart and soul into everything he does.
And then he meets Tina.
She's delicate and sweet, kind and open, but there's more to Tina that meets the eye.
When Landon finds out she's in legal trouble, he'll do anything to help her. He'll do anything to win the case. He'll do anything
for the woman he's convinced is his mate.
Even if his actions are only bearly legal.
Chapter 1
Tina
Once upon a time, the world was a beautiful place. My life was filled with hopes and dreams and promises, but the problem with fairytales is that at some point, something goes terribly wrong. Maybe the prince and princess fall out of love. Maybe the knight fails in slaying the dragon. Maybe the sleeping darling doesn’t actually wake up.
It could be anything.
But at some point, there’s a problem, and it’s one that can’t be solved with big dreams and high hopes. At some point, something happens that changes everything.
For me, that was when I came home and found Chester in bed with Wendy Brown. Everything about her is plain: even her name. I couldn’t understand why he chose her over me. I couldn’t understand why he picked her instead of our family. I couldn’t understand any of it, and then I didn’t have to because he was gone.
He was gone, but that wasn’t the end of it.
Oh, no. Although Chester didn’t give a rat’s ass about our child while I was pregnant, now that the baby is born, he wants custody. He wants full custody and he wants me to pay him child support.
The letter arrives on a rainy day when nothing else is going my way. I still have my job and my friends and my parents, but the one thing I don’t have is a father for my child. The one thing I don’t have is a husband. The one thing I don’t have is a mate.
The one thing I don’t have is someone to take care of me.
I’m a strong, independent woman. My parents raised me that way. My Papa taught me that no matter what happens, I’ll be okay. He showed me that even when the world seems cruel, even when the world is harsh, I can fight through it. I can get through anything.
I’m a Miller, and Millers are tough.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by bills, and I stare at the letter in front of me. Somehow, it doesn’t seem real. Nothing about the divorce seems real. Not if I’m honest. No, if I’m honest, it seems like I’m living in some sort of nightmare, like I’m stuck in a land where nothing goes my way.
If I pinch myself, maybe I’ll wake up.
If I poke myself, perhaps the nightmare will end.
Only it doesn’t.
A cry from the living room lets me know that Blake is awake. I set the letter down, take a deep breath, and hurry to the living room to get my son.
“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay,” I murmur as I pick Blake up from his bassinet. I’ve taken to sleeping on the couch lately, so I moved his bassinet next to it. Somehow, I just can’t bring myself to sleep in the bed where Chester and Wendy were fucking. That’s what they were doing: fucking.
They weren’t making love, they weren’t being sweet. They were having a dirty, raw, hard fuck while I was at the clinic having a prenatal checkup.
And I sort of hate Chester for it.
I change Blake’s diaper and swaddle him in a blanket. Then I settle down on the couch to nurse my little guy. He coos as he eats and his eyes close: a sure sign he’s going to fall back asleep before he finishes eating.
These moments are precious to me.
My entire life, I’ve wanted to be a mother. I just thought that I would be a wife and mother. I thought I’d be baking pies while my husband was at work. I thought I’d be cleaning the house and doing laundry and making sure our home was perfect before he got back. I thought we’d spend our nights together playing board games or reading books around the fireplace.
I didn’t think my world would end because my spouse wanted to leave me for someone else.
And I didn’t think he’d come back after our child was born and try to get custody.
In my heart, I don’t think Chester has a chance. Our divorce was final before Blake was actually born, and during the divorce, Chester made it clear he wasn’t interested in parenting.
So why the sudden change of heart?
Why wait until the baby is two months old and then try to sue me for custody?
None of it makes any sense.
I don’t believe for a second that Chester actually wants to be a dad or that he’ll be good to our son. He’s never even come to see Blake. Not once. Not once has he asked if he could stop by and hold his baby. Not once has he asked for pictures or updates on how he’s doing. Not once has he asked if I needed anything.
Not once.
Blake finishes nursing and I reluctantly wake him up so I can burp him. If I don’t, there’s a chance he might start feeling gassy or uncomfortable in his sleep. Besides, I want him to feel happy and healthy. I don’t want my little guy to get a tummy ache. There’s so much about mothering that’s hard, so much people don’t tell you when you decide to have a child, but I’m doing my best.
I’m doing my damn best.
Finally, I get Blake back to sleep in his bassinet and I head to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine before I pass out on the couch. I glance at the clock on the wall, but it’s only 8:00pm. It’s not even late. It’s not even dinnertime for my single friends.
I sip at the wine and look at the letter, wondering what the hell I should do, but then I remember something.
I remember my friend Joyce works for a legal firm and I think one of them deals with divorces and family law. Maybe they’ll be able to help me. Oh, I can’t afford a damn lawyer if my life depended on it, but this is my child we’re talking about.
I’ll sell my right kidney if it means I get to keep my baby.
I scroll through my contacts and find Joyce’s number. I should probably text her first to make sure she isn’t busy or doing something, but I don’t. This is urgent. I need her advice. I need to know what I should do.
She answers on the first ring.
“Tina?” Joyce’s sweet voice sounds through the phone. “What’s up, sweetie?”
“Hey, Joyce, sorry to just call you without asking first.” Talk about the texting generation. When I was a kid, I used to call my friends on the phone all the time. Now, calling people seems weird and socially awkward. It’s much easier, much more normal to text.
“Not a problem. I’m just hanging out. I haven’t talked to you in a little awhile. What’s it been? A couple of weeks? What’s up?”
“Oh, you know, nothing much. The usual.”
“I have a feeling that if nothing was up, we wouldn’t be talking right now.”
“You’re very observant.”
“It helps me in my line of work. Spill your guts, Tina.” Joyce is firm, but not mean. She doesn’t scare me when she tells me to start talking, and to be honest, she’s right. I need to woman up and explain the situation. I need to let her know what’s going on so she can help me.
She’ll never be able to help me if I don’t tell her what the problem is.
“You remember when you visited me in the hospital?”
“Oh yes!” Joyce screeches. “And I got to play with that sweet little baby. He’s so damn cute. Those Facebook pictures you posted were so adorable. The ones with the balloons? I loved them.”
“Thanks. Those were his newborn photos.” A friend took the pictures for free. I really lucked out because they’re incredible.
“What about the hospital?”
“Well, remember how much of an asshole my ex-husband turned out to be?” Chester was a major contributor to the fact that I needed to be hospitalized at the end of my pregnancy. I couldn’t handle the stress of the divorce and my blood pressure was through the roof.
Joyce visited me a few times while I was on bed rest and listened to me cry. She brought me my favorite foods and spent time binge-watching trash TV with me. She was an anchor during a time when I felt like my whole life was a storm. She visited again after Blake was born and we spent an entire morning dressing him up in all of his new outfits.
“I remember…Tina, is everything all right with the baby? Did you ex come by or something?”
“Well…well, that’s what I wanted to talk t
o you about. See, um, it’s been a few months since the divorce was finalized.”
I don’t talk much about my failed marriage. I know most people don’t refer to their relationships like that. I know I’m not supposed to say the marriage “failed.” I’m supposed to say it “ended.” I think I’ll always feel like it failed, though. I think I’ll always feel like I screwed things up somehow.
It’s not fair or right, but it’s how I feel.
“I know. I’m sorry, Tina. That totally sucks. He was a total dick.”
“He was,” I admit, still sorely embarrassed that the whole world knows I’m a divorcee. “But that’s not the problem. The problem is that my ex suddenly wants custody of my son.”
“What? But he should have specified that during the divorce.”
“I thought so, too. I was pregnant when we got divorced. It wasn’t a secret or a surprise. Chester made it very clear he was uninterested in parenting, and I was fine with that. Now, it seems he’s changed his mind. Joyce, I don’t know what to do.”
“You want to maintain full custody of your son, I’m guessing.”
“Absolutely.”
I look at Blake sleeping in the bassinet. He’s so quiet, so peaceful, so calm. He has no idea about the war raging in my heart. He has no idea what I’m about to go through in order to keep him.
“I would do anything for my son, Joyce. Anything. The problem is that I don’t have a lawyer and I’m not sure what to do. I received the papers today. There’s a court date on them. Should I just go? Do I bring Blake? How do I know what to do?”
Joyce hesitates before she responds. For a second, I think she’s going to tell me she’s sorry, but she can’t help. For a second, I think she’s going to tell me I shouldn’t have bothered her, and I feel embarrassed. Reaching out is never easy. Feeling helpless isn’t easy. It’s the most wretched feeling in the world.
