Carrie felt tears fill her eyes. She was going to lose her job. On the very first day too. Her heart sank. How was she going to find a new job on such short notice? The idea of asking her estranged parents for money for rent made her cringe.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” His voice was somehow both gravely and soft, gruff but concerned.
She blinked up at him through tears and nodded, even though okay was the absolute last thing she was. She was going to be fired. Her body was tense, waiting for him to berate her for crashing into him…but he didn’t. He stood up and reached down to her. She was still for a moment. “Take my hand,” he said. “I’ll help you up.” She took his hand. It was incredibly warm.
He was the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life. He must have been at least six a few inches over six feet, and it looked like every inch of him was covered in muscles. It didn’t look like he worked out a lot though; it seemed more like he had a very physical job. He was wearing a flannel shirt, and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows. Almost every inch of his forearms were covered in tattoos. His hair was light brown, and his eyes were a shade of gold she had never seen before.
She realized she was staring and was still holding on to his hand. She blushed and quickly let go, immediately missing the warmth of his large hand.
Jeanette appeared next to them. “Damnit Carrie! This is exactly the sort of thing I didn’t want happening! Clean this mess up.”
Carrie bit back her tears and began to bend to pick up some of the larger pieces of glass. She was upset but she needed to handle things. “Don’t be sore at the new girl, Annie. It was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Bri—“
The man interrupted Jeanette. “Let the guys clean this up. Your new girl is bleeding, and she needs to get cleaned off.”
Bleeding? Carrie looked down at her leg. She was indeed bleeding. One of the broken glasses must have cut up her leg when she fell.
“Shit,” Jeanette drew the word out. “Go get cleaned up. Both of you,” she growled.
The biker, whose name was apparently Brian, turned to the other four men that he was with. “Aiden, Will, Brett, Tyler, some help please!” Four men peeled away from the larger group.
“You’re always getting yourself into trouble, Bri,” one of them said. He was blonde and Carrie thought he was almost as good looking as Brian, but not quite.
“This is the smallest mess you’ve ever had to clean up, Will. Stop complaining.” Brian took the cloths from Jeanette and tossed them at his friends. “Get to work. I have to help a damsel in distress.” Brian turned to wink at Carrie.
“You put her in distress,” one of the other men grumbled.
“And now I’m fixing it, like a polite gentleman.” Brian turned to Carrie. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Carrie.”
“Let’s get that cut cleaned up.” She was about to protest, she could clean up the mess and deal with her leg by herself, but Brian’s hand went to the middle of her back and he began to steer her to the bar. He led her to the bar’s small, single person bathroom and turned on the water. He pulled his motorcycle cut off and let it sit at the edge of the sink. He pushed the toilet seat down.
“Let up, darlin’. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
“It’s really okay, I can deal with it. Go back to your friends; I’ve ruined your evening enough.”
“You ruined my evening? It’s the other way around. Let me handle this as a way to make it up to you.”
Carrie put her foot up on the lid of the toilet and Brian crouched slightly to examine the cut. In the confines of the small bathroom, Carrie realized how truly big Brian was. Carrie wasn’t a tiny girl; she was a bit over average height for a girl, so it took a lot to make her feel truly dainty. Brian managed to do that with his very presence. He stood up and grabbed a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser, wet them, and began to rub the beer and blood off her leg.
His actions were surprisingly tender. He wasn’t the sort of burly guy who never knew where his limbs were. His movements seemed effortlessly controlled. He tossed the soiled paper into the trash. “How’s it look, doc?” Carrie asked.
“It’s not too bad.” Carrie snuck a peak at her calf. The cut was long, but didn’t look too deep. He opened the small cabinet under the sink and pulled out a small box of bandages and some rubbing alcohol. She winced when he applied some of the alcohol to the cut. “Don’t want you to get an infection,” he said sympathetically.
“It seems like you’ve done this before.” It did. Carrie would have thought he was a doctor since he was handling her cut with such a blasé, no nonsense demeanor.
“I’ve patched up some road rash in my time. So a little cut isn’t too big of a deal.” He put the Band-Aid on her and smiled. “You’re good to go.”
Carrie looked down at her leg. He used two large bandages to cover the cut. “Thank you. Let me buy you a drink or something to make up for spilling yours.” Carrie surprised herself. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but she was never one to so forwardly ask a guy out. But something about Brian was…magnetizing.
He laughed, and it felt like velvet against her skin. “I should be the one buying you a drink.” She opened her mouth to protest but he continued. “What time do you get off tonight?”
“Not until closing time.”
He began to wipe the leather cut off. She hoped the beer hadn’t damaged it. “Well, I’ll see if I can convince Jeanette to let you off for a little bit when things slow down.”
Carrie smiled. “Good luck with that.”
“Annie has a sweet spot for me. She’ll be fine with it.”
“If you say so.” There was a moment of silence. “I should get back to work.”
“I’ll finish cleaning up and then come find you. Alright, darling’?”
“Okay.” Carrie slowly left the bathroom. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, or if she felt Brian’s eyes on her as she walked away.
Things finally slowed down around ten. It seemed like all the regulars were in the bar already, and walk-in business wasn’t something that the bar counted on. As Carrie took orders and brought people food and drink, she felt eyes on her. Every once in a while she would look up and she would meet Brian’s eyes. If his friends noticed, they always whooped and hollered at her.
Carrie had a moment to herself after she brought another round of drinks to one of her tables. She surveyed the bar. No one seemed to need anything. She leaned against the bar top and took a deep breath.
She was only alone for a moment before Brian joined her. He waved Jeanette over. She didn’t look thrilled but she walked over anyway. “I’m going to borrow your lovely waitress for a little bit.” Jeanette raised one painted-on eyebrow. “I promise to let her do her job if anyone needs anything.” He put one hand on his chest and raised the other one. “Scouts honor.”
Jeanette rolled her eyes. “You Clan boys are going to be the death of me.”
Brain laughed. “You love us, Annie.”
“I do. But no more trouble or messes tonight. Okay?”
“I can’t make any promises.” Brian’s grin was infectious. “Can I get two beers?”
Jeanette quickly filled two pints and handed them to him. Brian handed one off to Carrie. She took it from him, once again struck by how enormous his hands were.
“How long have you been working here? I’ve never seen you around before.” His eyes caressed her face, and she could feel heat rising. It was almost as if she was prey, but nothing so sinister.
“Today is my first day, actually.”
“Welcome to the only shifter bar in the state.” Carrie raised an eyebrow. Shifters? Carrie had never met a shifter before. She had heard of them, hell, who hadn’t? But never before interacted with one. She supposed even if she had met one, she probably wouldn’t know. Even though the existence of people who could change forms had been common knowledge for more than fift
y years, they mostly just kept their abilities out of the conversation. There were laws that made sure they couldn’t be discriminated against, but if a company didn’t ask, no one had to say anything.
“Oh! I didn’t realize that it was a shifter bar.” She felt naïve. But it didn’t bother her. It didn’t change her attraction to the man in front of her. She inspected him, wondering if there were markers suggesting what he turned into.
He laughed. “You can ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“What I turn into. It’s not like a faux pas or anything.”
Carrie couldn’t help but be curious. She wondered how young shifter kids dealt with everything. Were they home schooled? She wished she had her old job back because suddenly she wanted to put together a program for shifter kids. “Okay, what are you then?”
“I shift into a bear.” At his words, Carrie snorted. She couldn’t help but imagine a bear riding a motorcycle. “What’s so funny, darlin’?” His golden eyes were sparkling, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“I just imagined a bear riding a motorcycle.” Brian grinned at her pronouncement.
“He looks like a bear on a motorcycle even in his human form!” Brian turned to one of his friends, who had come to the bar with empty tankards.
“You’re the best wingman I’ve ever had, Tyler.”
“I do my best, bro. We’re going to head out.” Brian nodded, and Tyler turned to go back to the table. Brian drained the rest of the beer, and turned to Carrie.
“It was good to meet you, even if the circumstances were a bit…wet and sticky.”
Carrie laughed. “I promise not to spill anything on you next time.”
Brian grinned. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when his friends shouted for him. “Until next time.” He fixed her with a look that made her knees weak, then turned around to join his buddies.
Brian showed up at the bar every night she was scheduled to work, which was most nights. He would often be there with his friends, his burly biker gang, but sometimes he would come alone. Those were the nights she liked the most. He would order food and a beer, and watch her. She found herself putting an extra wiggle in her step as she crossed from the bar to the tables. He would sit centrally, so she often had to pass him, and when he did his hand would brush against her arm and he would nod his head towards her and mutter, “Sweetheart.”
She didn’t even have to pretend to smile at bitchy customers, because she couldn’t keep a smile off her face. He was gorgeous and she was a little smitten. Okay, a lot smitten. She had never fallen for the bad boy before, and Brian was the epitome of bad boy: he was in a motorcycle gang, was covered in tattoos, and was a shifter.
It was nearing the end of her shift a week after she ran into Brian, and he was still sitting at the table. Carrie and Jeanette finished cleaning down the bar and turning off the televisions. When she turned back to Brian’s table, he was gone.
Her heart sank a little, but she finished taking care of everything and then let Jeanette know she was heading out. She grabbed her purse, and her keys, and left the bar.
Her car was the only car in the front lot. But there was a motorcycle. And an enormous man seated on it. Her heart thumped uncomfortably before she realized it was Brian. She took a deep breath and headed in his direction, instead of towards her car.
He sat on his motorcycle, his legs wide. When she was close enough, she said, “Hey, I thought you left.”
“Nope, waiting for you.”
She took a step closer. “Why?”
He pulled Carrie between his legs, she stumbled a bit but he kept her steady; his hands settled on her hips. Carrie rested her hands on his shoulders. Even when he was sitting, he was still slightly taller than she was. “To do this.” And then his lips crashed down on hers.
When they finally pulled apart, she was breathing heavily and he looked oh so smug.
“Now what?” she said as she touched her lips. They still felt raw from the kiss.
“You go out with me; I show you an amazing time. You fall madly in love with me.”
She laughed. “Is that all?”
His hand moved up to her hair. The feeling of his fingers moving up the back of her neck made Carrie shiver. “Maybe. But maybe there will be more.”
His lips brushed hers again. He pulled her closer; her chest pressed against his. She could feel the muscles in his chest, in his arms. She felt so safe with him, as if nothing from the outside world could even touch her with him around.
“Tomorrow we’ll go out on a real date,” he muttered against her ear.
“I thought you staring me while I worked counted as dates,” Carrie joked.
Brian rolled his eyes. “Hardly.” He broke away from her and reached into her pocket for her phone. He quickly imputed his number. “Text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe.” She nodded. He brushed his finger against her swollen lower lip. “Goodnight sweetheart.”
She stepped away from the bike as he revved it. He drove away, leaving her trembling with desire.
The next morning she woke up to a text from Brian, telling her what time he would pick her up. She texted her address and rolled out of bed. Time was doing funny things. At first it felt like ages until Brian was going to arrive, but once she started to get ready, time sped by, which left her a little annoyed at the state of her eye makeup.
The doorbell rang and she rushed to open it. He wasn’t wearing his cut, and she couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. For some reason, it made her even more attracted to him. A checked blue and white flannel shirt adorned his muscular chest. The sleeves were rolled to the elbows, revealing his tattooed forearms. Tight jeans clung to his muscular legs.
“Ready to go?”
“Yep!” Carrie locked the door, shoved her keys in her purse, and followed Bri to his motorcycle. She even shamelessly checked out his butt, which was gorgeously displayed by the tight denim. She blushed. She had never been this sort of girl, the sort of girl who ogled attractive men, and rode motorcycles.
Brian handed her a helmet and then helped her put it on. “Put your arms around me, and hold on tight.”
She nodded, and followed his instructions. He started the bike and took off down the street. It was such a thrill! The wind brushed past her, her chest pressed into his back. She was almost sad when they stopped.
Brian got off the bike and helped her with her helmet again. They walked into the restaurant. They ordered quickly, and then Brian turned to her.
“So why are you working at Jeanette’s?”
Carrie picked up a roll and spread butter on it. “I used to work at this really fantastic start-up that worked with schools in low income areas. It was a literacy program. We organized volunteers to tutor kids, we had publishing houses donate books that kids could take home. But then we ran out of money, and I had to find other work. I’ve been applying to other things, but for now I’m at Jeanette’s. What do you do?”
She was curious. She couldn’t quite imagine Brian doing anything but riding a motorcycle. She wondered if he had an office job. “I’m a paramedic. And I help out at Brett’s car shop sometimes.” She remembered Brett from the bar. He was one of the guys in Brian’s motorcycle group.
“What made you decide to be a paramedic?”
“My old man always rode bikes with his buddies, and every once in a while, something would happen and someone would get injured. It was always such a rush to me when I got to help fix people up.” He took a bite of his roll. “Your job sounded amazing though.”
Carrie looked away wistfully. “It really was. I loved it. I just wish I was able to figure out what my next step is.”
“I’m sure you will. You seem like a girl who goes after what she wants.” He winked at her, and she laughed.
Brian’s sense of humor made the time fly by. By the time they finished desert, Carrie was wondering if it would be weird to order another slice of cake just to keep them at the ta
ble. Brian paid for the meal and took her hand as they left the restaurant.
She reached for her helmet, but Brian stopped her. He pulled her in for a kiss that made her toes curl. His tongue slid against hers; his hands cradled her limp body as he made love to her mouth. Kissing him was quickly becoming her favorite activity.
When they finally broke away from each other, Brian tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He climbed onto the bike and she followed suit.
She threw her leg over the bike, but before she could put on the helmet, a group of bikers pulled into the parking lot. Carrie could tell that these guys weren’t part of Brian’s gang. The design on their cuts were different. “Fuck,” Brian muttered.
“What’s wrong?” Carrie leaned against Brian’s back and tried to peak over his shoulder to get a good look at his face.
“Tribe bikers. Anti-shifter assholes.” The bikers pulled up near them, and they took off their helmets. One of the men, a tall good-looking blond, stepped towards the two of them.
“Bear shithead. Is that a human girl?”
Carrie looked at him, surprise painted on her face. How could this guy even tell if she was human or not? Shifters looked exactly the same as other person in their human form.
“Fuck off, Dempsey. It’s none of your business.”
“It is my business if you’re defiling human women.” Carrie had never seen such disgust on anyone’s face. Why would this guy say something like that? He didn’t know her, and he clearly was prejudiced against shifters. Carrie knew people like that existed, just like racists, but she had never encountered anyone who hated shifters like that. And hate was the right word. The man looked livid.
She tugged on Brian’s sleeve. “Bri, let’s go.”
The man looked at her, as if stunned she could even speak. “You don’t have to go with him. We can help you, sweetheart. If you’re under duress just tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”
The word “sweetheart” rang in her ears. Whenever Bri called her that, her stomach did little flips. Coming from this man’s mouth, the word burned her like acid.
John (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 4) Page 62
