by Amanda Jones
"I'm Calan, Calan Winters" he offered, holding out his hand though he wasn't surprised when she ignored it.
"So you work for the sheriff's office here in Bear Bluffs?" He was impressed even more, it took smarts and guts to be a sheriff in a shifter town, though he did worry a little for her safety.
"No." The single word was forced out through gritted teeth he could tell. Still, Calan was not a man to give up, so he pressed on.
"Well, what station did Jeb mean then?"
"I work in the fire department, okay?" She finished her drink and slammed the glass down with more force than was necessary before gathering herself to stand up.
As she did, the front door opened, admitting several more bodies to the mix. He had no idea who, but the tension in the room instantly ratcheted up several notches. The low growl that emanated from his mate was all the warning he needed to watch his back, even though it wasn't directed at him.
"Oh ho-ho, what do we have here boys? If it isn't the baby bear? Get it? Cause she's definitely not goldie-locks!"
Three distinct hoots of laughter could be heard as footsteps grew closer.
"You better shut your trap Dusty, before I do it for you," Harley growled at him, taking a menacing step towards the intruder.
"Oh come now babyface, we ain't done nothing wrong, so keep a lid on it." That was the leader, Dusty, speaking again Calan noted. He still hadn't turned around, sipping slowly on his beer as he waited for the inevitable to happen. He could practically smell the booze dripping off of these jerks.
Although shifters were no longer hidden in the shadows, there was still a lot of mistrust from normal humans. Calan chalked most of that up to jealousy, but that did not prevent the ones with lesser intelligence from occasionally causing trouble with a shifter. It appeared this was not the first time his Harley had encountered them.
"Just leave Dusty, okay? I don't want any trouble." That was Jeb behind the bar. He played nice now, but the scars and rippling muscles in his arms told Calan he wasn't about to back down from this, just like he hadn't from numerous scraps before. That was something he could understand, defending ones territory. Perhaps Jeb was a bear shifter as well he mused idly.
"You know, I don't think I will. I'd like a beer, please."
"I'm not serving you Dusty, now get out."
"I said," the man repeated, slower this time, "I would like a beer. Please." It was a fake politeness, doing nothing to diffuse the situation.
"You heard him, clowns, get the hell out of here." Harley was shaking next to him, one of her hands already closing into a fist.
"What are you going to do about it, sweetheart? Why don't you be a good girl and go get us some beer if he won't?
It was getting a little too close for comfort now, which meant it would be a good time for him to get involved. He set his beer down on the counter with a sigh of approval at the last taste of it. Smoothly, so as not to startle anyone, he stood up to his full height, towering over everyone.
"I believe," he growled deeply, the sound clear to the bar as a whole, "that the lady asked you to leave."
The men looked between each other, each seeing if the other was willing to go to bat with this unexpected giant amongst their midst. Tiring of the antics, Calan took a step forward to which they stepped back. After that, it was over, as Dusty gathered up his loyal followers and exited the bar.
"You didn't have to do that," Harley growled from his side.
"I know," he replied simply.
"I had that under control, I could have handled them."
"Yes, but you didn't have to," he said, turning to face her, putting out a hand to grip her shoulder as he looked into the twin blue seas of her eyes.
"Just like you don't have to walk to your car alone. Are you ready?"
"I can handle myself." Shrugging off his hand she grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. Sighing, he tossed some money on the bar, enough to cover his drink and a large tip, as a thank you for the name, and went after her.
His long strides brought him to her side and past her just before she reached the door. She was going to have to accept that she needed to be treated like a lady starting with having him hold the door. Without saying a word, he pushed the door open and held it for her.
Harley gave him a weird look before exiting the bar, heading towards a faded, dirt-covered jeep on the other side of the road. Dusty and his friends were nowhere to be seen thankfully. After safely escorting her to her car, he held the olive green door open as she tried to close it.
"Does Jack Hammond still live around town?" he asked.
The reaction she gave him could not have been more unexpected. Shock, anger and terror all ran through her face before she clamped down on her expressions.
"Yes, he is."
"Could you give me any clue as to where I might be able to find him?"
"If you let go of my door." He did so, stepping back so she could close it. The top was off the jeep though, so he could still hear her reply as she gunned it down the road.
"He's the fire chief."
***
Harley
I am so fucked!
The thought rocketed around in Harley's head as she flew down the road towards the fire station. With no roof, the wind was causing her neatly brushed hair to fly around wildly. She looked up at the sky, wondering if the rain would actually arrive and reduce the humidity. The clouds moving in made it seem like it, but she knew better than to trust them. All too often the sky would look like it did now, before the clouds either passed on by or broke up over the valley. She would just have to wait and see.
The firehouse was on the outskirts of town, close to a campground that saw a lot of tourist traffic. The tree's began grow larger and closer together as she approached. All Harley wanted at that moment was to pull over, shift into her bear and roam amongst the giant oaks. Unfortunately for her, she was going to be on duty in twenty minutes.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get past her reaction to the giant bear who had rolled into the Quencher. She had been pissed that someone was in her usual spot, but the heat of her temper had quickly morphed into heat from her throbbing cunt as she had made eye contact with him. It had taken all of her own bear's willpower not to throw herself at him. She had felt her nipples harden as his gaze travelled her body, evaluating all of her many curves.
Harley almost wanted to thank Dusty for coming into the bar. He and his ridiculous friends had given her an excuse to let off a little steam, focusing her attention elsewhere. Of course Calan had gone and stolen the show again by making them leave, but it had given her enough time to recover.
There was also that bullshit about walking her to her car, holding the door open and his desire to protect her. She wasn't sure what his game was, but nobody ever did that for her, she had learned how to do it all on her own. She was independent and damned if one suave move was going to turn her into quivering jelly.
Her clit ached for attention the more she thought about Calan, forcing her to take a deep breath and focus on the day ahead. She was going to see him again, and likely in a short period of time as well. Not because she wanted to, but because it was inevitable. He had asked about Jack Hammond. The man who happened to be not only her boss at the fire station, but also her father.
Three years ago Harley had come to town, looking to escape the world at large after several run-ins with the anti-shifter crowd that tended to crop up in larger cities. She had never met her father before, but he had turned out to be a kind man who had made some mistakes in his younger life.
The first little bit between them was fraught with tension and distrust, but she had soon come to love him, and had finally taken him up on his offer to become a member of the Bear Bluffs Fire Department. She was immensely proud of that, having aced all the requisite testing to prove that she could do the job.
Now Calan wanted to meet with her dad. Did they know each other? Why was her dad associating with big, muscular men lik
e Calan Winters? She was so wrapped up in questions about what the hell had just happened that she almost drove by the stationhouse.
She pulled in, killing power to the jeep as it coasted into her spot. A quick tap on the brakes and she slid out, not bothering to lock it behind her. There was no theft in Bear Bluffs, for it was far too easy to use the scent of an animal to track down whoever had done it.
"Afternoon Paul, hello Ben," she called to the two men wiping down one of the trucks as she walked in through the open vehicle door in the front. Because there was so much forest surrounding the town, the city actually had two fire trucks at its disposal. Thankfully they rarely needed them, but the few times they had, it had not been pretty.
The two vehicle bay had high, lofty ceilings with arched windows at the top that let sunlight stream in. Off to the right was the equipment area, filled with suits, special situation gear and spares for just about everything they could ever need. Her dad ran a tight ship and everything was kept in clean, serviceable order.
At the very back of the place was a set of stairs leading to the second story loft. They were old and creaky, giving the place some character to match that of its inhabitants. The entire place was painted a stark white, a bland color, but one that was easily touched up if ever necessary. Which it was, once a year every year according to her father.
Reaching the stairs, she grabbed the railing and vaulted them two at a time to the second level. That was where the offices and common room were kept. The only person up there was her father, whom she went to see.
"Hi Dad, how's it looking today?"
"Good sweetheart, no calls yet. If nothing comes up, please ensure that you and Sam get truck two cleaned before the end of your shift."
That was that with her dad. When he was on duty, it was all business, which suited Harley just fine. With a smile that he couldn't see with his head buried in reports, she walked over to the small table against the far wall and poured herself a coffee. Mixing in a shot of milk, she walked back to lean against the wooden frame of the door.
"Dad, do you know a Calan Winters? He was at the Quencher today"
"Calan? Ah that old rogue, I wondered if we would ever see him around here again." He looked up from his reports, a smile beaming across his face.
"Say, do you think he'd take up Jamie's job?" The force was down to five at the moment, not including her father, after Jamie's retirement. It was ideal to have six people on staff in case someone ever fell sick or got injured.
Harley was shocked at the simple effect one name was having on her father. It was as if his best friend had walked into town, the one he had never mentioned. The same one that caused her panties to be soaked with warm honey.
Good lord, do I want this loser?!
She knew nothing would ever come of it. Nothing ever did with average-looking Harley the bear shifter. The way men looked at Sandra, the waitress at the Quencher, was not the way they looked at her. In fact, most men seemed to look at her almost like the way they did one of their friends, not a woman they would take home. She shoved those thoughts to the side, intent on learning more about this man.
"So you know him then?" She couldn't keep a sliver of anger from showing through.
"Absolutely! His parents, may they rest in peace, were good friends of mine. He grew up in town, though he left, oh, probably fifteen years ago. Told me he'd be back when he was ready. He's a good man Harley, a good man."
"Well, he's likely to be coming by to say hello," she muttered, turning to leave her father alone, not wanting to think about Calan anymore.
She wandered down the stairs and out the doors, moving around to the side of the building. The adjoining small house, with its rooms for the firefighters to stay if they desired, effectively cut her off from view of the street.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," the deep, gravelly voice sounded from behind her.
She jumped in surprise, her face going red with embarrassment at how badly he had snuck up on her. Her bear was already hovering near the surface, urging her to relent, to let him get close. Harley wasn't listening though, pushing her bear aside and ignoring its desires.
"What the hell Calan? Leave me alone, I can handle myself."
She tried to push past him, her little area of serenity melting with the heat from his presence. As she moved past him though, he grabbed her arm gently but firmly, pushing her up against the wall. She could feel his hard cock press into her stomach as he stepped close, a small whimper escaping from her as embers roared into flame between her thighs in response.
She wanted him, right here, right now. His muscular chest was inches away from her while his strong, gorgeous jaw and slight, stubbly beard were at perfect eye height. Just above that his beautiful plump lips made her want to reach out and kiss him. The flutter in her heart as his voice echoed in her ear almost made her climax on the spot.
"I'm not doing this because you can't. I'm doing this because I don't want to see you get hurt. I'm not sure I could handle that. So please, stop getting upset with me over it."
He let go of her arm then, stepping away from her, his presence leaving as swiftly as it came. She felt a brief, intense moment of abandonment before her senses came screaming back to her.
"Yeah, whatever," she brushed it off, moving away from him towards the front of the station. It was still early, but she may as well start her shift now. There was no better way to work off the tension than cleaning the truck from top to bottom.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as Calan ascended the stairs to go speak to her father. Anger building at his presumptive attitude towards protecting her, she turned that into elbow grease, beginning to clean the big tanker truck from top to bottom.
Soap suds flew as she angrily scrubbed into the crevices, taking off the big streaks of dirt along her sides. Even when she wasn't working herself into a fury, cleaning Matilda, as they had named her, brought her a sense of accomplishment. The roads around Bear Bluffs tended to get dusty, and that gunked up the fire trucks something fierce.
Before long, both the truck and her were covered in dirty water and soap. Breaking out the hose, she used the cool jet of water to begin cleaning both parties off as best she could. Job complete, she looked up at the office suspiciously. Neither Calan nor her father had come down in that time, despite it taking her the better part of an hour to do.
"You alright now?" Sam's voice came from behind her cautiously. He was normally quite jovial, which meant she had been showing her anger just a little too clearly while cleaning. With a sigh, she wiped her arms dry on the towel and turned to face him.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine now Sam, thank you for asking. Just been an unexpectedly stressful day so far."
"Understood, I heard about Dusty, what a dick."
Sometimes it still shocked Harley to realize how quickly word managed to travel in such a small town. Barely five hundred people lived in and around Bear Bluffs, and yet in less than two hours it seemed they likely all knew about her encounter with Dusty at the Quencher. She hoped he didn't mention, or know about Calan.
"So who's this new guy anyways?"
So much for that hope.
"I'm not sure Sam. My dad seems to know who he is. Says he used to live here up until about fifteen years ago. I've never heard of him though. His name is Calan."
"Calan? Calan Winters?”
"Wait? How the hell do you know him as well? Does everyone but me know who this guy is?" Her anger was back, her bear roaring at the situation as well. Sam backed away from her, keeping some room so that he could escape as necessary.
"Hey, calm down Harley."
Sam was a shifter, and he knew how ill-tempered some of them got, so he was doing the smart thing and giving her some space to breathe. Still, he didn't deserve that, least of all from her. Sam had a heart of gold, willing to help just about anyone.
"Sorry, it just feels like I'm in the dark about him, while everyone else knows who he is." She rolled her shoulders, letting
the tension bleed off. Going around freaking out on anyone who mentioned his name would get awkward really quickly. Harley knew she would have to contain her emotions, because it seemed like he wasn't going anywhere fast.
"He lived here with his parents until they passed away. Good kid." Sam didn't say any more, for he was distracted by the phone ringing. Moving away to answer it, he left Harley with a moment to consider everything.
Pushing open the rear door, she leaned against the faded red brick wall and sank to her knees. Sure, she thought, he might be nice and chivalrous. But if his parents died here, there's no way he's come back to stay. He's probably just in town to grieve for an anniversary before he packs up again.
She had seen the markings on him, various tattoos, likely indicating some sort of gang allegiance or something. He was definitely not the type for her, not at all. Like her dad had said, he was a rogue. Those types were by the very definition roamers and unlikely to settle in any one place.
Least of all with me.
A man like that would want a skinny, big-titted bimbo on their arm, someone who screamed sex, with piercings and tattoos of her own. Although Harley had a marking of her own, carefully hidden where only a few would ever see, she did not qualify in that department. Nor would she ever be considered a sex symbol to a man like that, who could have any woman he wanted with his rugged good looks.
Her self-loathing was interrupted by the firebell ringing. With a jolt she was up and inside the door before she realized she was moving.
"What's the word?" she called to Sam as they suited up with their ready suits.
"Nothing major by the sounds of it, just another campfire that shouldn't be."
"Stupid city idiots," she muttered under her breath, hopping into the passenger's seat as they fired up the sirens and headed out.
The past month had seen a spate of minor forest fires due to campers at the nearby campground ignoring the laws on when and where fires were allowed. One day it was going to get out of hand if they didn't smarten up.
