The Bear’s Blind Date: A Howl’s Romance

by Bowlin, Chasity

She shook her head. “Nothing really… I mean, there have been a few weird phone calls.”

  “Define weird,” he demanded.

  “Just long silences and hang ups. I thought it was telemarketers or spam calls. But I only get them when I’m alone… and there’s the car.”

  “Car?”

  “There’s been a black car that I’ve seen outside my shop… it’s been there a lot but I just thought it was someone who worked on that street. But then I saw it when I got to the bar tonight. I’ve also seen it other places. But Cupid’s Point is such a small town, it’s not uncommon to see the same people and the same vehicles over and over again.”

  Jack cursed. “I think this might necessitate in change plans, Lacey.”

  Her face fell, a look of disappointment flittering across the quiet prettiness of her face. “What? Why? I thought… I mean, I guess this is more than you bargained for, isn’t it? I mean, this kind of drama on a first date would be the death knell for anyone!”

  His tone was grim when he replied, “It is more than I bargained for but that’s not it. I’m still going to be your date for the Ball, and I’m still going to be your date tomorrow. But I’m not going back to Asheville tonight. Until we figure out what’s happening, I’m not leaving you alone. I’m your new shadow, Lacey… I’m your new bodyguard.”

  4

  Thursday

  Jack woke up on the couch in Lacey’s living room with more than just a stiff neck. The whole house smelled like her, that sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent that made him want to walk right into her bedroom, lay her back on the bed and show her exactly what he wanted from her. But as far as distractions, that was the biggest one possible. He wanted her, but not just to make love to her. He wanted to mark her, to make her his mate, to make her his. And touching her while fighting the urge to do that was too much. Not too mention that he needed to be focused on who was trying to hurt her, not on his overwhelming urge to get her naked.

  Sitting up, he winced and carefully adjusted himself behind the fly of his jeans. Yeah, it was bad. Any shifter in the throws of mating lust would not find relief until they finally claimed their mate. And until he could do that safely, without worrying about who might be lurking nearby waiting to hurt Lacey, he would just have to deal with having a perpetual hard-on.

  The scent of coffee hit him suddenly, permeating the apartment. Getting up, he followed it to the kitchen and found her there dressed in a pair of yoga pants that did truly delicious things for her ass. She wore a ragged Duke t-shirt that hurt him to his soul, and her red hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail.

  “Going somewhere?” He asked.

  “Over to the main house to make use of the gym,” she said. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  He would be joining her, but not to work out. He luckily didn’t have to worry about those sorts of things. But he certainly wasn’t about to let her go over there by herself. Not after what had happened the night before. Reaching out, he touched one of the dark bruises that had formed on her upper arm, where the attacker had grabbed her. “We actually need to talk about some things this morning. I need a description of this black car. Make, model, old or new. Anything distinctive about it?”

  Lacey poured two cups of coffee and passed one to him. He started sipping the dark brew even as she added cream and sugar to hers. “There’s nothing that sticks out,” she said. “It’s a Nissan, I think. About ten years old, maybe? The windows have a dark tint that can’t possibly be street legal, but there were no scratches or dents on it. No busted headlights or taillights. It’s just a car. There’s nothing distinctive about it.”

  “North Carolina plates?” He asked.

  Lacy frowned. “I’m not sure. Now that I think about it, I can’t remember seeing any plates on it at all. Maybe it has one of those dark covers on it?”

  Jack leaned back against the kitchen counter. “With the margaritas out of your system and the shock from last night hopefully worn off, talk to me about what he said to you.”

  Lacey put her coffee down and sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. It was clearly an uncomfortable topic for her, one that brought back all the fear she’d felt the night before. “Do we have to talk about this?”

  “Yes,” he said. “We do. I promise you, Lacey, I’ll keep you safe. But this targeted and specific. This wasn’t someone looking to boost a TV or something to pawn easily. This was someone looking for something… and they believe you know where it is.”

  She nodded, her expression tight and the tension evident in her posture. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I still don’t know what he was talking about. I’ve wracked my brain and I can’t think of anything.”

  “So maybe this isn’t yours. Maybe it belongs to your grandparents or to your former fiancee,” he suggested.

  “It wouldn’t be my grandparents. They’re the most straight-laced people ever. It could be Brandon, but everything I took from the condo is here… well, almost everything. I had this huge desk that we just couldn’t get up the stairs. It’s in storage.”

  Jack nodded. “Then we’re nixing your morning workout and going to your storage unit.”

  “Are all bodyguards this bossy?” Lacey demanded.

  Jack put his cup down and stared at her. “The sooner we sort this out, the sooner I can stop being just your bodyguard. Damn straight I’m bossy.”

  * * *

  Lacey stared at him, taking in his heated gaze and sleep rumpled appearance as the deep rumble of his voice resonated with sensual promise. Her lips parted on a soft ‘o’ of surprise. “Well, what would you be if you’re not my bodyguard?”

  “It would still very much involve bodies… yours and mine.”

  A shiver raced through her. Memories of the kiss from the night before stirred in her mind. The rough texture of his beard, the firmness of his lips, the hard press of his body, the wicked ways he’d moved his tongue against hers. All of it came rushing back and she wanted nothing more than to feel it all again.

  What was happening to her? Why did he have such an intense effect on her? No man had ever sparked desire in her the way that he did, though to be fair, the only one who’d ever had the opportunity was Brandon. It had to be more than that Jack was simply good looking, that he was wonderfully, ruggedly alpha male. Being near him made her feel breathless and filled her with anticipation. It wasn’t a matter of if it would happen between them, but when.

  Lacey looked up at him from under her lashes. “We could always have another preview… couldn’t we?”

  “That would be a bad idea.”

  “But a fun activity,” Lacey answered. “And I’m perfectly safe right now, aren’t I?”

  “You are,” he agreed.

  “Then maybe you could kiss me again now that I can’t blame my enthusiasm on the margaritas.”

  He moved so quickly she wasn’t even prepared for it. His arms closed around her, pulling her close and then his lips settled firmly over hers. Somehow, they wound up pressed up against the refrigerator, her legs wrapped around him, his hands cupping her bottom.

  Lacey raised her arms, locking her hands behind his neck and holding him closer. The slight scruff of his beard was rough against her skin and that friction along with the soft stroking of his tongue against hers lit a fire inside her. Without conscious thought, Lacey arched against him, moving her hips in a blatant invitation.

  When he pulled his lips from hers, Lacey made a soft sound of protest. But then his lips and tongue and teeth were moving over the sensitive skin of her neck as he rocked against her. She lifted one leg, hooking it around his lean hips and drawing him even closer. He let out a groan, a harsh, guttural and almost animalistic sound that e

  And then the doorbell sounded. The slightly discordant tone ringing through the apartment and forcing them apart. They were both breathing hard; his hair was even more mussed than before ad she didn’t doubt that hers was just as bad.

  “I should see who that is,” Lacey
offered, her voice breathless and sounding much more like Jessica Rabbit than she ever had in her life.

  “No,” he said. “I should see who that is. And they can wait a minute.”

  “It might be important,” Lacey said.

  Jack’s expression firmed. “It’s also someone who has the access code for the gate. And that makes them a suspect. So they can damn well wait a minute so that I can walk to the door without maiming myself.”

  At that comment, Lacey’s gaze dropped to the very prominent bulge that strained the aging denim of his jeans. “Oh,” she said, feeling her face heating with embarrassment and lust.

  “You’re not helping,” he pointed out. Then with a muttered, “Fuck it,” he turned and headed toward the front door.

  Lacey stayed behind in the kitchen aroused, embarrassed, uncertain, impossibly confused and wishing whoever was at the door straight to hell. She had no way of classifying all the different things she was feeling. All she knew was that they’d been dry humping in her kitchen like horny teenagers and she hadn’t even done that when she was a teenager. Jack, by virtue of his hunky presence alone, had unlocked something inside her that she hadn’t even known existed.

  “What the hell has Zoe Hawkins gotten me into?” she murmured.

  “I’m looking for Lacey.”

  The sound of Brandon’s voice hit Lacey like a ton of bricks. Dread was followed immediately by suspicion. What was he doing there? Exiting the kitchen, she walked out into the living room. He was standing at the door dressed in a suit despite the fact that it was Saturday morning. She wasn’t surprised. He always wore a suit. His tie was loose and deceptively casual. She knew that he had practiced that slightly loosened knot in the mirror for months to perfect it.

  “Brandon, what are you doing here?”

  He smiled at her, his expression sympathetic. “Is this your realtor? I know you’ve got to be tired of living in your grandparents’ garage.”

  Lacey swept her hand around the living area with its gas fireplace, hardwood floors, custom lighting, French doors and intricately carved millwork. “Yes, clearly, this dump is starting to wear on me… and no. Jack isn’t my realtor.”

  “Then who is he?” Brandon asked with a tight smile. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally hired a trainer!”

  “I’m not her realtor and I’m not her damn trainer!” Jack snapped. “Who I am is none of your damn business.”

  “Well,” Brandon said, sounding for all the world like someone’s scandalized maiden aunt, “It’s awfully early for a visit.”

  “He spent the night,” Lacey offered.

  Brandon’s face fell instantly, his jaw going slack and his eyes widening. “He spent the night? Lacey, I can’t believe your grandparents would allow such things—.”

  “Whoa!” Lacey interjected. “First off, my grandparents don’t allow or disallow anything. They recognize that I’m an adult and accept that I’m going to live my life accordingly. An interesting fact, Brandon, is that the only decision I’ve ever made in my life that they questioned was when I agreed to marry you. Luckily for both of us, you and Brittany have rendered that a moot point.”

  He was still blinking rapidly, looking back and forth between her and Jack like he’d never heard of premarital sex before. It wasn’t like she and Jack had premarital sex, at least not yet, but still. He had a hell of a lot of nerve to look scandalized, as if she she were the one doing something wrong.

  “Why are you here, Brandon?”

  He cleared his throat nervously. “Well, I just… the thing is, I wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any awkward scenes at the Valentine’s Ball on Saturday. I’m planning to propose to Brittany and I would hate t have something ugly happen.”

  “Then maybe you should talk to your girlfriend,” Jack said. “She’s the one who tried to create a scene last night.”

  “Brittany can be a little high strung at times, but she’s just very self conscious,” Brandon said, making excuses for her. “She’s always been very intimidated by you, Lacey.”

  The hell she had. Brittany was like Regina George in Hulk Smash mode. She was mean, vindictive, petty, and wasn’t above having her ‘squad’ do her dirty work for her. “I won’t make a scene. I don’t have any reason to, Brandon. I don’t care what you do or who you do it with. I’d appreciate it if you’d return the favor and kindly mind your own business.”

  He puffed out his chest, clearly offended. “I see. Well, it’s obvious you still harbor some hostility toward us. I hope you find the closure and the healing that you need, Lacey. I really do.”

  Lacey didn’t have to reply to that. Jack did it for her. He grabbed Brandon’s shirtfront, including his meticulously loosened tie and hoisted him up until they were eye to eye. “She’s made her self clear. Now I’m going to make myself clear,” Jack warned. “Get out, stay out. If you see Lacey on the street, turn your damn head. You, from this moment forward, will act as if you have never even met. Is that clear?”

  Brandon looked at her pleadingly. “Lacey, call off this neanderthal!”

  Lacey shrugged. “I don’t think I can. And even if I could, I don’t think I would. Chalk it up to my lingering hostility.”

  Jack shoved Brandon out the door and closed it firmly in the other man’s face. Then, to add insult to injury, he lowered the blinds as the other man stood there sputtering. “Self important dick,” Jack muttered. “What the hell did you ever see in him? Why would you have gone out with such a douche?”

  “Because he asked,” Lacey admitted. And that was really it. Brandon was good looking, successful by Cupid’s Point standards, and he’d been single and interested in her. He’d asked her out and she’d said yes because everyone kept telling her how limited her options were. And she’d believed them.

  “That’s a piss poor reason.”

  Lacey nodded sadly. “It really is.”

  5

  It was a later start than they’d intended, but fresh from an ice-cold shower and full of hot coffee, Jack eased his SUV through the gates of the storage facility.

  “It’s the last row,” Lacey said. Near the back.

  Of course, it was. Eyeing the cameras affixed to the light poles, Jack questioned whether half of them were even in working order. He highly doubted it. Driving the short distance, he parked the vehicle and then got out. Scanning quickly, he didn’t see any signs of anyone hiding or lurking nearby. That didn’t mean they weren’t there, only that they were good at it.

  Lacey pulled the keys from her purse and unlocked the unit. He reached in and hit the lights. It was dim but better than nothing as they stepped into the poorly lit interior of the small storage unit.

  There wasn’t much in there. An old tanker desk that weighed a ton, a dressmaker’s dummy shrouded in plastic. Those were always creepy as hell, Jack thought. In one corner was a Christmas tree and some totes that likely contained decorations.

  “There was probably room for all this stuff at my grandparents. They offered me space in the garage… but moving all my stuff there made it feel—.” She broke off abruptly, not finishing the sentiment.

  “Permanent?” He asked.

  She shrugged, a gesture that lifted her breasts against the fabric of her t-shirt and reminded him of just how heated things had gotten in her kitchen that morning. “Something like that,” she said. Walking over to the desk, she opened the top drawer. “I don’t know what anyone thinks I have that’s worth anything.”

  “I don’t think it’s you. I think they think it was something of Brandon’s that you’ve wound up in possession of,” he surmised. “Something tells me he’s not exactly a straight arrow.”

  “He’s a small-town attorney,” she protested. “He’s hardly involved in some grand criminal scheme!”

  “You’d be surprised,” he said. “Is he a good attorney?”

  Lacey shrugged again. “I mean, Brandon has always taken the path of least resistance. I’m pretty sure he paid someone else to get him through law
school.”

  Jack nodded. He’d suspected as much. “And does he win in court?”

  Lacey frowned. “Almost always. But I just thought it was because he picked cases that he couldn’t lose. When I worked as his secretary, he’d turn clients away like crazy if it was too tough.”

  “Those don’t exist,” Jack said. “Judges are capricious and vindictive as fuck, at least in my experience. If he’s in the same courtroom, again and again, and he’s winning every time… there’s something shady going on… These cases he turned down, was there anything else they had in common?”

  Lacey tapped her fingertips on the desktop. “Yeah… They were out of jurisdiction. They would have been held in the courts in the next county over. With a different judge. You think he’s blackmailing the judge, don’t you?”

  “I think it’s a plausible explanation,” Jack replied. “So we need to search that desk the right way. If they’re looking for something that might be in that desk, it’s not just going to be laying in the drawer.”

  “Then what do you suggest?” Lacey demanded. “I didn’t bring any tools to take it apart.”

  “Leave that to me,” Jack said. He moved past her and leaned down, fiddling with the track of the drawer until he found the catch. Pressing it in, he wiggled the drawer out and laid it on the concrete floor of the storage unit. He did that systematically until all the drawers were out. Then he went over them one by one. He checked the sides, the bottoms, he looked for false bottoms or hidden compartments. In the end, he found nothing there.

  “I’m not being very useful,” Lacey pointed out. “If there’s something in that desk that doesn’t belong to me, I’d be the most likely one to identify it.”

  Jack nodded. “And that’s why you get to go through the contents while I search the body of the desk.”

  Pulling a flashlight from his pocket, he moved closer to the desk and set about doing just that. He went over it top to bottom, side to side and front to back. There was nothing. Getting to his feet, he slapped his palm on the top of it. “Dammit. I was sure we’d find something.”