Bear in a Bakery

by Liz Paffel

  Dax’s fingers curled into fists. “Which pack is he from?”

  “What?”

  All traces of lust were gone from his face. His eyes were hard, wicked. “The shifter who hurt you. Which pack, Allie?”

  “Hey, Allie?” Her dad popped his head through the doors. “I need you out here.”

  She glanced down at herself to make sure her dress was back to normal. “Be right there.”

  “Allie.” Dax lightly gripped her hand, but she pulled away.

  “I have to go.” She turned and hurried to the restroom. Closing the stall door, Allie leaned against it and closed her eyes.

  She couldn’t do it, not after so much heart break and so much longing for the one thing that never seemed to work out. All the years of her life she’d invested in men, both shifter and human, just hoping to find The One, only to have it all go to waste? This is how the universe was going to play its hand, by throwing a man at her feet and deciding he was Mr. Right, right now? Screw that.

  It didn’t matter what he said; she wasn’t getting involved with him.

  No matter what.

  Chapter Six

  Dax gave another swing of the axe and welcomed the jarring discomfort that rippled up his arms and through his back. He needed the pain.

  What he really needed was to shed his human skin, free his bear and hunt in the forests of his father’s land. His father had gone inside his massive log home, a perk of so many years of hard work and persistence in the uncertain construction industry. He’d looked a little ashen while operating the log splitter, and Dax was glad he’d gone to rest. At one-hundred twenty-five in human years, his dad was officially in a shifter’s “golden years.” It was hard to see his father as an old man, but that’s what he was. And soon he’d be handing down Mitchell Corp to his sons, with Dax first in line. Unless of course, he made good on his promise to cut him out.

  Dax pondered how easily his father had been tiring lately. He was slowing down; getting closer to the day he just couldn’t keep up anymore. He’s not been the same since mom died, Dax thought. In the three years since, his dad had been aging noticeably by increments, each year making it more obvious. No wonder he was so insistent that Dax take a mate. Rowan was growlingly aware of his mortality, and wanted things buttoned up as much as possible before he kicked the big one.

  “Up for a challenge?”

  Dax gave a sideways look to his younger brother Jett who pulled off his tee shirt and tossed it on the ground. He slung an axe to his shoulder and kicked over a few logs. Standing one upright on the extra chopping block, Jett wagged his eyebrows, waiting for Dax’s response.

  “Don’t you have bees to sing to or something?”

  Jett smiled his big, extra-white grin. You’d never know he was a farmer by looking at him; he was too clean cut and remarkably un-dirty and un-farmer like. Maybe that explained his crazy theory that playing classical music through outdoor speakers around his beehives made the bees produce sweeter honey.

  “Nah, I sang them a lullaby and tucked them in for the day.”

  Jett nudged his log into place, stood back and squared his stance, then swung the axe down. The log split with a resounding crack and filled the air with the scent of fresh pine. Dax nodded to the pile he’d already chopped, nearly as high as he was tall.

  “You must have something on your mind if you’re splitting that much by hand.” Jett inquired with an expectant look.

  Dax was about to ignore the question in that sentence but turned it around instead. “I could say the same of you. There’s a perfectly good hydraulic log splitter sitting right here that will save your back.”

  “My back doesn’t need saving.”

  Jett picked up another log and split it in the blink of an eye. Dax didn’t press. He didn’t have to. Anyone close to Jett knew what caused his sudden and random depression and anxiety. It had been two years since Jett lost his mate and baby daughter in a freak accident, but to Jett, it probably felt like mere minutes.

  First, they’d lost their mother and then Jett lost his family. Dax glanced back at the house. They couldn’t lose Rowan, too. His father’s insistence that he take a mate had been an aggravating thorn in his side for years now. Dax didn’t know how to explain that he was holding out to find the kind of love his mom and dad had had. In a romanticized way, he knew that real love like that existed.

  He thought of Allie and his middle tightened up.

  He wanted her. If she continued to reject him, he’d have to take a mate at the gathering. Maybe it was time to consider what his father had been requesting.

  Take a mate. Any mate.

  The thought of any other woman made his heart sink.

  Jett had quit the family business, putting even more pressure on Dax to step up. He’d bought a small farm on the outskirts of town, raised bees and made crazy good things out of the honey. Dax jokingly called him Honey Bear, something Jett took to heart and used to name his brand of creations. His sale pitch was easy. Who didn’t want to buy honey from an honest to goodness bear?

  Their younger brother, Desi, was a Marine and hadn’t been home in years. They all kept hoping he’d wrap up soldier life and get his ass back to the pack. If Rowen continued to decline, Dax just may have to go get his baby brother himself and drag him home.

  Jett ran a hand through his black hair. “You gonna race me or not?”

  Jett split another log and kicked the pieces away. Well, his brother obviously had some demons to work out today, so who was Dax to deny him? With a sigh, he whipped off his own shirt which was already soaked clear through on the back. They each gathered logs and put one on their chopping blocks.

  They raised their axes, and without an official start, began splitting the logs one after the other. kicking the split pieces off and putting a new one on. It was easy work, considering they were both pushing six-four and had bodies harboring the strong efficiency of a bear. Jett blew through his pile first and took his time gathering new logs to slice.

  “You’re slowing down, big brother.” Jett razzed as he finished getting logs first, and gave the first whack of his axe.

  “I’m going easy on you.”

  “Yeah, fuck you.” Jett put two logs on the block and split them one after the other, his blade moving so fast, if you blinked, you’d miss it.

  “Show off.”

  Dax went about the rest of his pile steadily, without the frenetic pace of his brother. Jett would wear himself out eventually, and if history was any indicator, Dax would need to make him stop before he literally collapsed in exhaustion.

  “How’d that bourbon infused honey ever turn out?” Dax prompted as he eyed his brother to monitor his progress. Jett was sweating now, his massive chest and shoulders slick with a sheen.

  “Man, it’s so good. Tried some on toast today, and it was amazing. Would be even better on Frannie’s apple cream cheese muffins...”

  Dax’s gut fell as his brother’s voice trailed off and he kept swinging, dropping the topic. Just when he thought they’d find another rhythm in chopping, Jett turned to him and set the axe against his shoulder.

  “Tell me about this woman.”

  Dax paused. “What woman?”

  Jett scoffed. “The one I smell on you. Her scent is rolling off you like you took a bath with her.”

  Fuck, he wished. “I’m doing some work on her bakery, Sticky Sweet, where dad gets those rolls he loves.”

  Jett looked Dax up and down, the humor in his eyes saying he knew there was more to it.

  “You don’t smell like you’ve just been in the same room with her. It smells like you had your hand in her — “

  Heat raced down Dax’s spine and he straightened to his full height. “Watch yourself, Jett.”

  His brother’s eyes narrowed at the implied threat in Dax’s posture. A low rumble came from his throat, but his grin widened. “Good for you, big brother. I hope she’s the one.”

  With that, Jett dropped the axe and bent to get h
is shirt. He wiped his face on the wadded-up material before slipping it back on. Dax wanted to talk about it, but he was hesitant to bring up anything about mates when his brother had lost his. Shifters only had once chance to take a mate, one chance to produce cubs. Jett had had his, and now faced a life exactly as Rowan predicted Dax would: single, childless. Alone.

  “Let me guess. She wants nothing to do with you.”

  Dax set his axe aside. “Sort of. How did you know?”

  “Your face. You look like a love-struck cub.”

  “Yeah, well.” Dax shrugged off the conversation. He didn’t really want to talk about this after all. Jett ran a hand through his thick, black hair and pierced Dax with violet-blue eyes.

  “You think she’s your mate?”

  Without a doubt. “Yes.”

  Jett spread his hands wide as if he didn’t know what the problem was. “You’re a fucking bear, Dax. Deep down, you know how to get her to cooperate. What do male shifters resort to when their women are being stubborn?”

  Dax shook his head. “That only works on shifter females. This one is human. She’ll kill me.”

  Jett rolled his eyes and walked past him toward the house.

  “Guess you’ll be one lonely son of a bitch like me, then.”

  Dax softened at his brother’s words but doubt just multiplied. He couldn’t just... he’d never heard of a shifter doing that to a human woman. He couldn’t.

  Could he?

  Chapter Seven

  Allie drowned her guilt with a second glass of wine.

  Her dad was on a “date” with Marybeth right now because of her little make out session with Dax. Every time she thought about it, Allie wanted to kick herself for being so dumb! Marybeth had made it very clear that Ben accompany her to dinner tonight if Allie wanted to keep her massive bakery order or she was giving it to Bella Blu.

  The order she’d made bigger by adding fifty cherry almond pastries. Christ, MB and her blackmail.

  It was getting late. She and Becks had spent the day fixing the last of the superficial raccoon damage, and aside from the claw marks in the wall, chewed up trim and the broken ceiling, the store was looking back to normal. Dax had sent her a text that he’d bring her a quote on the repair costs soon. She was ready to get back on schedule and open up her damn store. Trying to ignore what she and Dax had done, she sterilized the entire kitchen and all it’s contents, getting it ready to produce baked goods for sale.

  Allie laid each recipe out on the counter and started writing an ingredients list. Nothing could be made too far ahead of time, but she could get all the prep work done so the baking could begin two nights before Marybeth’s party. She’d have to bring one of her staff back, including Becks, and probably her dad, too, to get done in time.

  Especially if Dax had been serious about his order.

  She huffed a laugh. His order had been a tactic to get under Marybeth’s skin, that’s all. The way he stepped up for her was both impressive and annoying. She didn’t need him standing up for her, but on the other hand it was kind of nice. Dax wasn’t the kind to take shit from anyone, she could tell. She was very attracted to that. The dominance, the what would you call it? Alpha attitude? Sure, he was cocky, but the primal feminine in her was satisfied with his dominate nature. She’d be protected by him, cared for.

  The feeling of security she had when she was around him was refreshing, and not something she knew she needed until now.

  Allie tried to focus on her list, but her mind was other places. Dax.

  Dax.

  Dax.

  Damn, Dax.

  With a sigh, she resolved to not bother going home tonight. It was only seven p.m. and she wasn’t a lick tired. Her cell phone buzzed. Pulling it from her pocket, Allie hesitated before checking the screen. She suspected it would be Blake before she even looked.

  I’ve had enough of your silence, Allie.

  Her brow knitted as a blip of fear bubbled inside her chest. Was that a threat? She hadn’t responded to any of his past messages. She didn’t owe him a damn thing! Their breakup hadn’t been exactly clean, with him texting and calling her repeatedly for weeks afterward and driving past her house at random times. Then he’d moved, and the harassment had stopped just as she was considering a restraining order, of course.

  Tightening her jaw, Allie responded. Leave me alone, Blake. I’m not interested in speaking to you.

  She watched the screen, knowing Blake well enough to figure he’d have an immediate response to her rejection. A minute or two passed with nothing. Glad that she was wrong in her assumption, she moved to put the cell in her back pocket when a loud knock came from the front door.

  She froze. She had a single light on behind the counter as she always did at night, and the front shades pulled down. Blake wouldn’t... would he?

  “Allie? It’s me. I’m coming in.”

  She let out a breath at Dax’s voice.

  The door opened, and he stepped inside. He moved effortlessly, with a kind of manly grace that made it hard to look away. His body was in perfect coordination, the sleek muscles and supple skin definitively masculine. He held a paper bag in the crook of one arm. It crinkled as he made a half turn to close the door, and heaven help her, his jeans fit him perfectly!

  “Didn’t want to scare you by just coming in.” His eyes narrowed, and his face carried a tension she’d never seen on him before. “You do look scared. I’m sorry.”

  Allie waved him off. “It’s nothing. What are you doing here?”

  The tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders all day melted away as she drank up the sight of him. Honestly, she’d been like a teenager with a hard crush trying to stay busy to keep her mind from wondering when she’d see him again. Having a lot to do hadn’t worked in keeping the nervous energy at bay.

  Now a different kind of tension replaced it. Allie grew warm between her thighs, with an ache that was becoming a familiar byproduct of Dax’s presence.

  His blonde hair was wavy and tousled, as if he’d been running his long, sculpted fingers through it often.

  “Saw the back lights on. Thought I’d stop by.”

  He carried himself like he was expecting a blow at any moment. His upper body appeared tense, and he stood completely straight which made his impressive height and build even more intimidating.

  And delicious.

  “Okay.” Allie smiled faintly. “But, why?”

  What was wrong with him? He was staring at her like he was about to devour her or do something illegal. Maybe both. Now that she thought about it, he did have an air of nervousness about him that seemed out of place. He was normally so cocky and sure of himself.

  “Is everything okay?” She asked carefully.

  Despite her relationship with one, she didn’t know much about shifters. Maybe he’d just been in his animal form and was transitioning back into his human state of mind. A shudder went through her at the thought. She’d love to see him morph into his bear. All that power and strength and wildness. He was deadly, but he was also gentle. The two traits together were almost more than her ovaries could handle.

  His gaze bore into her so intently, Allie had the urge to step back. But she didn’t. He’d never given her a reason to believe he would be dangerous toward her. Just yesterday, he’d had her half naked on the counter while he gave her an orgasm. She’d been completely vulnerable to him and lived to tell the tale. If he’d meant her harm, she’d know it by now.

  He wasn’t Blake. She had to remind herself of that.

  “Everything’s fine.”

  Allie wasn’t sure how much more tension she could take. Her entire body was getting warmer and the pulsing ache between her legs was a hundred times worse. He’d mentioned before that he could smell her arousal.

  She was probably saturating him with it now. How did he affect her like this?

  Allie fidgeted with a pencil and looked at her list to try and center herself.

  “Well, I have a lot to d
o tonight, so is there something I can help you with, or...?”

  If he was going to stand there and be slightly creepy, and amazingly hot, while staring at her, he could get out. She really did have stuff to do. And thanks to him, she was going to have a hard time keeping her head on her work and not thinking about his dick and how mouth-watering he looked in that blue tee shirt.

  Dax shoved his hands in his front pockets, another move that surprised her. He liked to use his hands for expression when he spoke. She didn’t peg him as the more submissive, hands-in-pockets type. She hitched an eyebrow. Maybe he was trying to keep from touching her.

  “You have plans for tonight.”

  What was wrong with him? His expression had a predatory shadow to it, which made her wonder again if he’d recently shifted.

  “No... not aside from getting started on your chocolate cupcakes. You really wanted those, right?”

  “It wasn’t a question. I’m telling you that you have plans tonight.”

  Allie put her pencil down, trying to feel out that statement. Why did she feel so excited? Frustrated by the mixed signals, she picked up her list. He could stand there looking all angsty and tortured if he wanted to. She had a pot of coffee to brew and start drinking if she was going to pull an all-nighter.

  “I appreciate the caveman thing you have going on right now, but you can show yourself out.”

  Dax looked slightly amused. “Caveman thing?”

  “Yeah,” Allie said as she reached for her apron and tied it on. “I feel like you’re going to throw me over your shoulder and carry me off somewhere.”

  “You could tell?”

  She did a double take at him, confounded. “What do you mean, I could tell?”

  Whatever fog had been hanging over him faded off, leaving behind the playful and self-assured man she was getting accustomed to. Talk about a person having two sides! He sauntered over and put the bag on the counter.