by T. S. Joyce
What an asshole. The humor fell from her face as all her old securities came flooding back. She wrapped her arms around her middle to keep from falling apart. Don’t let him get to you like that. She was stronger now. She loved herself. It had been a long road getting here, and Trey the Troll was not going to make her backpedal. Someone was out there who would accept all of her. He had to be. She believed there was a person out there for her, just like Lissa had found Todd and her dad had found her stepmom. It just hadn’t happened for her yet, but it would. Someday.
Stupid Trey for bringing up her scar. It was a low blow meant to hurt her. And it had. Her eyes burned with tears, but she blinked hard and kept them at bay because he wasn’t worth the emotional effort. Determined to avoid the fire station, she stayed on the opposite side of the street as she headed back to the coffee shop, or more specifically to her small one-bedroom apartment at the back of the building where she could regroup and again convince herself the scar didn’t matter.
“Hey!” Aaron’s voice echoed down the street, and Alana jumped.
Quick as a flash of lightning, she dashed her fingertips under her eyes just to make sure she hadn’t shed any of the moisture. “H-hey,” she greeted him.
He stood inside the garage with a heavy-looking box balanced on the palm of his hand. His blond brows were furrowed with a frown. Aaron set down the box with a massive thud, then strode out of the station until only the two-lane street separated them. He dragged his gaze down her deep pink dress, fitted to her boobs and fuller from waist to hem. “You look pretty.”
And then she lost it, eyes burning, lip trembling. Mortification swept over her. Her face fell, and she couldn’t meet his gaze. Trey had been awful, and Aaron had just picked up all the pieces that were breaking apart and put them back together with those three words. You. Look. Pretty. Damn straight, and screw Trey for making her forget that for a moment.
She could hear Aaron’s boots pounding on the pavement, and then he was there, hugging her shoulders. And holy mushrooms, he smelled divine. Masculine soap and body spray. Even his deodorant smelled good and, hell yeah, she was sniffing his armpit and crying and she would remember to be embarrassed in the morning when he wasn’t hugging her and making her feel all warm and safe inside.
“The date?”
She nodded. “You called it. He was a total doucheface.”
“Was he rude?”
Another nod.
A low, feral sound vibrated through Aaron’s chest, and when she looked up, his eyes were on the man scarfing dessert at Dante’s. “You want me to kill him?”
“Are you serious?”
Aaron’s eyes locked with hers, and a tremor of terror zinged up her spine. They were so light, glowing almost, reflecting oddly like an animal in headlights.
“Yes or no?”
“No,” she whispered through an accidental huff of laughter. “No, I don’t want you to become a murderer because my date was an idiot.” Her entire body was pressed against his, but she arched her neck all the way back to meet his eyes better. “You’re really tall.”
“Maybe you’re just short,” he said, the hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.
She giggled and sighed, thankful that Aaron had the ability to erase Trey with a little teasing.
Aaron rubbed her shoulders gently and cocked an eyebrow. “You’re a very aggressive hugger, woman. I think you wrinkled my shirt.”
“Passionate, not aggressive, and your shirt is weak if it is going to wrinkle so easily.”
“I think you scratched me with your claws.” Now she could see the white of his straight teeth as he drew her hand up and studied her nails. She wouldn’t admit it, but she’d told the woman who did her manicure today she wanted sparkly gold. It was the same shade as his eyes when he got riled up. She’d imagined those pretty gold-green eyes in a big brown bear, and secretly hoped she would get to see his inner animal someday.
“You’ll heal.” Alana wiggled her fingers at him. “Do you like them?”
Aaron smirked and dropped her hand. “Fishing for compliments so early in our friendship.” He tsked and shook his head.
Alana pushed off him and laughed. “Don’t make me fish then!”
“I like your nails, your hair, your make-up, your dress, and you smell like vanilla. You look sexy as hell, and if Doucheface let you go, it’s on him.”
And just like that, Aaron had her remembering her tough skin. “Yeah, fuck him.”
“That’s right.” Aaron’s smile stretched wider. He grabbed her hand as they took a few steps down the sidewalk, bumped her shoulder, and muttered, “Fuck him.”
Alana stared down in shock at their intertwined fingers, his fair skin against her dark. There was something so beautiful about that connection. Aaron stopped walking and drew up in front of her. When she glanced up, he was staring at their hands, too, with such an intense look in his blazing gold eyes. His chest rose as he breathed in deeply, and when he lifted his attention to her face, he stopped on her lips.
Drawing closer to her, taking his time, Aaron cupped her neck with his giant hand and brushed his thumb gently over the scar on her lip, then across her cheek. A tender smile lifted and fell in an instant on his face.
Alana stood frozen, so hopeful that he would kiss her, but so scared because this thing growing between them felt huge now. It was one of those moments that had the potential to change her from the inside out. To make her look at the world differently.
How terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
Aaron leaned down slowly, and this was it. His lips were inches from hers, and Alana closed her eyes and leaned into him. And right as she could feel his body warmth seeping into her, a jarring alarm sounded.
Aaron tensed and jerked his attention to the firehouse as a woman’s voice came over the intercom. “Truck forty-eight, ambulance forty-eight, automobile accident, possible fire, highway nineteen and eleven-sixty-eight.”
Aaron pulled away and bolted for the flurry of chaos in the fire station. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he called over his shoulder.
Alana stood there stunned as she watched him disappear into the turnout room and then emerge with his crew, talking low and serious as they loaded up. The ambulance left the station just seconds before the fire engine blasted onto Main Street. Aaron was speaking into a radio from the front seat, but he locked eyes with her for a moment before he was gone.
A tsunami of worry washed through her middle. She’d never given a single thought to his job. Sure, she and her friends had joked about how hot firefighters were, but she’d never considered that someday she would have a stake in a firefighter’s safety.
Up the road, the fire engine’s blaring lights disappeared, and Alana wrapped her thick wool cardigan more tightly around her shoulders to ward off the chill that had suddenly taken her body.
He would be fine. This was what he did, and he was a Keller. A bear shifter. He was good at his job and could survive a lot more than a normal human. So why couldn’t she shake this sudden fear that had her paralyzed on the sidewalk of dark Main Street?
Caw!
Alana startled hard at the jarring cry of a bird and looked up at one of the trees along the street. A giant raven was bending a young branch under its weight and seemed to be looking right at her. Farther up the tree sat a snow-white owl, even more massive than the raven. Gooseflesh rose across her arms. Oh, hell no. She’d seen this movie before and was not about to get pecked to death.
Alana speed-walked down the street, daring a single look back at the strange birds in the tree before she escaped around her coffee shop and into her apartment.
Tonight had turned out weird. Disappointment over what a bulbous anal gland Trey had turned out to be, relief at Aaron’s sweet compliments, safety in his embrace, the almost-kiss, and then the jarring alarm that had flattened her world in an instant. She was crushing hard on a man with a dangerous job. Alana was falling so hard, so fast, it left her unsteady. And no
w, as she stood in her living room thinking of the ominous birds in the tree, a trill of fear expanded in her chest. She got this strange sensation of being a rock, tumbling down a mountainside, faster and faster, and soon nothing would be able to stop her from hitting the bottom.
What was she doing?
She’d planned to move away from here and start over. To get out from under the shadow of her twin sister and find her own sense of self. But with every second she spent with Aaron, he put all of her plans in jeopardy and tempted her to grow her roots deeper into this little town.
He made her feel differently, but she couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or a very bad thing. In just three brief meetings with him, Aaron already wielded the power to make her reconsider her future.
Falling for a dangerous man like him was terrifying for a safe person like her.
Chapter Six
Deep inside of Aaron, the snarl of his grizzly was constant. A man had fallen asleep at the wheel and crashed into a ditch. The civilian who had made the call to 911 had pulled him and the man’s six-year-old niece from the old SUV before it went up in flames. The man didn’t make it. What kind of idiot didn’t wear a seatbelt? Aaron was pissed. The entire thing could’ve been avoided if he wasn’t toting his niece around late at night and had strapped the damn belt over his lap. It took one second to do and could’ve saved his life. It could’ve saved that little girl from going through all of this. She would be scarred inside for the rest of her life because she was the survivor. Watching her uncle die would be a part of her story.
Aaron had held the girl, Annie, while Aric worked to save her uncle with a couple of paramedics. Annie had cried against Aaron’s shoulder until her mom drove up, frantic and sobbing. And all the while, the fire engulfed the car in the background while Bryant and Mark worked to put it out.
He was supposed to save people.
Aaron shook his head hard at the memory of Aric’s grim expression as he radioed in to request permission to call time of death on the scene.
The girl would have some bruising from her five-point harness car seat but would be fine physically. At least her uncle had strapped her in, or tonight could’ve gone much worse. And thank God for the man who happened to pass the wreck and pulled her out before the fire caught in the engine. The what-if’s piled up too high, and Aaron buried his face in his hands and squeezed his eyes closed. These shifts were the worst, when someone didn’t make it. These were the ones where Bear felt out of control.
He grunted at the pain of his animal trying to claw his way out of Aaron’s skin. He had to get out of the station before Chief saw him lose it. At least Aric wasn’t around. He only worked night hours, on account of being undead and all. He would’ve slit his throat from behind if Aaron ever offered him a vulnerable position like this with the back of his neck exposed. By now, Aric was long asleep in whatever dark crevice he lived in.
Aaron glared at the sunrise through the back window behind him and sighed. Stalling wasn’t going to help anything. His animal would be a monster all day until he could force last night from his mind.
Throwing the strap of his duffel bag over his shoulder, Aaron smoothed the bedding from where he’d sat and made his way out of the station with nothing more than a nod of the head for the guys on the new shift.
Outside, he revved the engine of his Harley and blasted down Main Street. He shouldn’t stop at Alana’s. He’d told her he would, but he wasn’t safe to be around right now. He wasn’t stable, and everything in him balked at the idea of letting Alana see him teetering on the edge like this. She would see how messed up he was and pull away.
Things had gotten about ten times more complicated between him and Alana after their almost-kiss last night. He’d been serious when he’d told her he wasn’t looking for a mate. She was human and fragile, and he saw loss of life on a weekly basis. He’d also seen what happened when a shifter lost a mate. Most of them never recovered. Hell, most of them had to be put down when the insanity took their animals. If he was this riled up over the lost life of a stranger, he would be a brute about Alana being safe. He would never want her to drive, turn on the stove, swim, or take any risk that could somehow result in her getting hurt. And what kind of life was that for her? No life at all. She was strong and independent and deserved a man who wouldn’t stifle her. Aaron’s protective instincts weren’t an excuse to drag her down with him.
But…
He couldn’t just pass her coffee shop and break his word.
At the last second, Aaron pulled into the small parking lot, shoved the kickstand down, and cut the engine. She was inside serving coffee to a family of four, her face transforming into that beautiful crooked smile. She said something and laughed, and he couldn’t just barge in there and ruin her day with his moody bear.
He growled and scratched his head in irritation. He couldn’t figure out how his dad and uncles had done it. They’d been firefighters for years, and he’d never seen a single crack in their hard exteriors. They just managed.
He crossed his arms over his chest and heaved a frozen breath into the morning air. The same thought that had plagued him since he was a boy struggling to control the brute bear cub in his middle flashed through his mind again. Maybe he was broken.
Alana looked up, her dark skin practically glowing in the muted light from the sunrise behind him. Today, she’d curled her hair and left it down except for a few pieces she’d pinned back from her face. She was about seven levels out of his league, and yet here she was, catching his eye, a slow, greeting smile spreading across her lips.
Damn, he was in trouble with this one. He should leave. He should give her a shot at happiness with someone normal.
It was too late for escape when Alana pushed open the door to her shop, steaming coffee pot in her hand and a questioning quirk to her dark, delicate eyebrows. “I thought for a minute you were standing me up.”
Aaron ran his hand along the back of his head and ducked his gaze. The thought had crossed his mind. “I’m maybe not the best company right now. Can we meet up when I’m more…?”
“More what?”
“In control.” Nope, he wasn’t showing his eyes right now. They were likely damn near gold, the color that usually terrified small children and protective mothers. And he couldn’t stomach the idea of scaring Alana.
“Hey,” she murmured, approaching slowly.
Aaron winced and angled his face away from her. “Don’t.”
He thought she would say something, pop off maybe, but she didn’t. Instead, she slid her hand around his waist and rested her cheek against him. Chest heaving, Aaron closed his eyes and prayed for control as he settled his open palm onto the lower curve of her back.
He owed her some sort of explanation, but hell if he knew how to explain Bear to a human. “Someone died. A man.”
“Last night?”
He jerked his chin once.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head slowly as she ran her nails lightly up and down his spine.
“Okay, we won’t talk about it then. But let me feed you before you go back to Nantahala.”
He leaned back and frowned down at her. “How do you know I live there?”
Ignoring his question, she said low, “I like your eyes this color.” As she searched his gaze, she didn’t look or smell terrified. She looked awed.
And little by little Bear settled. Baffled by his animal’s reaction, Aaron explained, “They get like this after bad shifts at the station.”
“Understandable.”
It was?
Alana tugged his hand and led him into the coffee shop. The patrons were staring, but she clipped out, “Get on back to eatin’,” and her customers did just that.
There were three full tables on one side, so Aaron sat in a booth on the far wall to make the humans more comfortable. Even if they didn’t have the instincts he did, they could tell when a predator shifter was worked up. He’d learned that
over the years. It was in their subtle behaviors when he got too close to a Change in public. Even if they didn’t realize they were afraid, they would shift their weight away from him, or cross to the other side of the street with confused frowns on their faces.
But then there was Alana. He could feel the heaviness of his own dominance thickening the air around him, but she’d approached him slow, like she knew what he needed, and hugged him. Settled him.
He inhaled deeply as he watched Alana pile pastries onto a plate and pour a cup of fragrant coffee, and on the exhale, he felt lighter, relieved almost. The scent of vanilla was strong and relaxing in here. Maybe that’s why she smelled like that, from baking.
Under her breath, she hummed softly as she bustled over to him. Today she was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans that clung to her curves, a pink button-down blouse and matching apron with the logo for the coffee shop.
“I was thinking about not coming,” he admitted as she set down the plate of frosted strawberry pastries and the mug of hot coffee. Keeping anything from her felt wrong.
“I could tell.”
She didn’t sound mad, though. When she made to move off again, Aaron lost his damned mind and reached out, grabbed her hand, pulled her back slowly to him. Her reaction was perfect. An easy giggle, and then she ran her nails through his hair, smoothing it back from where it had fallen in his face. She cupped his cheek, rasped her touch down his unshaven jaw, and prettily arched her eyebrows. Her full lips turned up in the corners. Alana wielded magic. What else could explain just a touch of her hand offering him such salvation from the bad night he’d had?
Aaron angled his head and rubbed his cheek against her hand in an affection only shifters would understand the importance of. As Alana slipped away and sauntered off to help a customer who’d just come in, she swished her sexy hips with each step, as if she knew he was watching her leave.
Done. Aaron was done for. Heaving a breath, he relaxed back against the bench seat and shook his head in disbelief. If Alana even knew how much Bear had settled under her touch, or how he was slowly devoting himself to her, she would run away and never look back.
