Bearly Begun (BBW/Bearshifter Romance) (Bachelor Bears of Yakima Ridge Book 1)

by Isadora Montrose

  This was one of Erin’s late shifts. Once she had realized that the boys were safe with Len she had explained that she could work twelve hour days for better pay if she did deliveries instead of working in the food line.

  Her employers paid a lot less for making sandwiches rather than delivering them. But working six hours Monday to Friday meant she could be around when the boys were out of school, so she had taken a pay cut to try to keep them out of trouble.

  Today, Erin was working three to three. She had started loading her truck in the afternoon, and would be filling vending machines with sandwiches and snacks, and delivering to convenience stores until the small hours.

  He had told Erin that it made more sense if the boys more or less moved in since she was working odd shifts. He had bought some mattresses and an old dresser and put them in the middle bedroom. A trip to the Walmart and he had sheets and pillows.

  It was feeding them that was the issue. The boys ate as much as he and Joe did and just kept getting larger and hungrier.

  Joe kept sniffing them and saying they stank of bear. Stank yes. Len concurred with the stinky label. But getting them into the shower helped with that. He didn’t think they were shifters. What were the odds? He figured they were just growing up fast.

  But Hunter’s revived sullenness was different and unmistakable. He had to deal with that right quick.

  “Let’s take Tracker for a walk,” he told Hunter when the dishes were done. Cord looked up from his homework hopefully but Len shook his head.

  “What’s the matter, son,” he asked Hunter as Tracker made his usual dignified exploration of the neighborhood.

  “I’m not your son,” said Hunter fiercely.

  “It’s what we call youngsters in French Town, but if you don’t like it, I can call you something else,” Len said peaceably.

  “I have a dad,” said Hunter.

  “Hmm.”

  “You put my dad in jail,” Hunter accused.

  “You reckon?”

  “If you hadn’t of called the cops, he wouldn’t be back in jail.”

  “You think your dad should be out of jail teaching you and Cord to burgle houses?” Len asked mildly.

  Hunter kicked a stone. Len looked at the boy’s shoes. They were ordinary athletic runners that he had bought to replace the expensive high tops that Pacey had given his son. And it looked like Len would be going back to the store because they now looked a bit small. Jesus. No wonder Erin worried about money all the time.

  Len looked at the boy’s slumped posture. Hunter was confused. He liked Len. He liked the rhythm of work and play and eating, but he felt guilty for liking it when his dad was in prison. Or maybe someone had put a bee in his bonnet.

  “Did your dad teach you stuff?” Hunter asked.

  “My dad? Some. He died a long time ago. My mom says he always took me and Joey places with him, but truth to tell I don’t remember him much.”

  “My mom died in an accident. How’d your dad die?”

  “He was a soldier. He was killed in combat.”

  “Huh. Mom was killed by a minivan.”

  “I know.” Erin had told him the story. Her mother had been standing at a bus stop when a minivan had spun out of control. She had died at the scene. The boys had been three.

  Len squeezed Hunter’s shoulder comfortingly. He whistled for Tracker who was marking some garbage cans.

  “I don’t remember her. Me and Cord were babies. But we had my dad.” His voice trailed off.

  “And your sister,” Len reminded the boy.

  “She’s only my half-sister. She’s not really my sister.”

  Now this was the heart of the matter. “Erin’s been a mother to you boys since you were six. She loves you, and you better believe she’s your sister.”

  “She’s not like my dad.”

  No, she wasn’t, and wasn’t that a good thing? Erin was honest, hardworking and loyal. Everything Hunter’s father was not.

  “He bought us cool stuff. He was going to get me an iPad. Cord too.” Hunter kicked at a stone and watched it rattle into the street.

  “Your dad didn’t have a job. How do you think he paid for that cool stuff?” Len returned.

  Hunter kicked another stone. “That’s why he had to steal.”

  Len stopped. He turned the boy and looked into his face. “Now just one minute, son. The world owes no man a living. If your dad had no money, he could beg, he could borrow, or he could man up and get himself a job.

  “Your sister works her butt off so she can provide for you. And when she’s done with paying rent, food, and the rest of the bills, she doesn’t have much left for luxuries like iPads. Do you think she should go over to the Apple store and steal a couple?”

  Hunter was shocked. “Erin wouldn’t do that!”

  “No she wouldn’t. But stealing stuff from a store isn’t better or worse than stealing copper and selling it and using the money to buy stuff.”

  “Huh.” Hunter kicked some more stones. They turned the corner and walked up the next block. “But you’re rich, you and Mr. Joey. You bought that house. Houses cost a lot. You could afford to lose a few things. You don’t even have to work.”

  “That what your dad told you?”

  “Yeah.” Hunter said sullenly.

  “Joe and I work at a sawmill summers. Winters we put up houses or build kitchens. Joe’s in the Reserves so he gets a salary from them. I do some firefighting, but unless it’s a forest fire I don’t get paid for it. And then I lose the money from the mill.

  “We got money put by.” Len went on. “I guess we won’t ever starve, but no one would call us rich. We put our savings into the house here in Portland. That means we own the house. Well, us and the bank. And we’re putting our labor in.

  “Working on the house is my job. But Joe’s paycheck is taking us week to week while I’m not earning. If we both work hard, and the neighborhood improves, we’ll make money when we sell it.”

  “Huh. But you went right out and bought more pipe when we took the first batch,” Hunter accused. “And you like working on the house. I can tell.”

  And you just confessed to robbery. “Even if someone stole our pipe, we still had to fix the plumbing. But buying more copper came out of our profit. More losses we have, less profit there will be. If we lose too much, we could lose our savings too. Be some hard times then.” Len paused to let his words sink in.

  “And, yeah, I do like working on the house,” Len assured Hunter. “It’s a good feeling to use your hands and see a thing you built look right when you’re done.”

  “Huh.” The house was almost in sight now. Tracker bounded ahead. “You like her, don’t you?” Hunter asked casually.

  “Your sister? Yes, I do.” Len didn’t think he needed to elaborate to an eleven-year-old.

  “So why aren’t you sleeping with her?”

  Excellent question. And none of your damned business. Len cleared his throat. He looked at Hunter expecting to see the watchful glee of a child embarrassing its elder. But Hunter just looked very young and anxious.

  “Your sister and I are just friends at present, son, uh, Hunter.” He put a big hand on Hunter’s shoulder and stopped him. “But you have to know that was not an appropriate question for you to ask any man about a decent woman. And Erin is as decent as they come.” He let go of the boy and let Tracker lead them home.

  “But how can a kid ever find anything out?” objected Hunter.

  Len swallowed his chagrin. “By asking the correct question. The question you wanted to ask was ‘What are your intentions?’”

  “Well, okay.” Hunter hung up his jacket. “What are your intentions to my sister?”

  “Entirely honorable.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means he wants to marry her,” Cord said from the doorway. “You were gone so long, me and Mr. Joe have laid all the boards you cut. The living room looks great!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The trou
ble was Cord was right, Lenny did want to marry Erin. But so far he hadn’t made any progress with his courting. He saw a lot of Erin, but never got her alone. Not that he minded the boys, but he could hardly make any overtures with them as an audience.

  And maybe he hadn’t been that subtle, since Hunter had asked him his intentions and Cord had thought they were obvious. Hunter didn’t seem thrilled with the idea of a big brother. Whereas Cord did. Cord was altogether a less complicated child than Hunter. Sweeter, easier to like.

  Hunter wasn’t a mean kid, he was just focused on not getting screwed and any spare energy he had went into making sure no one screwed Cord.

  Len understood that intense bond. He and Joe were litter mates too. Competitive and collaborative. They had been wrestling buddies and founding members of their own fraternity. Now they were business partners, hunting companions, and fishing buddies. Nothing could weaken their bond. He suspected marriage would alter it, but it would be different, not diluted.

  And truth to tell, Hunter was a more interesting kid than his brother. He was smarter, thought faster on his feet, and made connections in a heartbeat. Which only meant he was more of a handful to raise. But Len was pretty sure that his loyalty to his brother and sister—and even the outlaw father—was the basis of the honorable man he could become.

  So he had problems with his courting. His mate didn’t seem to know she was being wooed. Joe was observing in the shadows, howling with laughter, but not interfering. One of his apprentices approved of his courtship and the other disapproved.

  Almost for certain Cord would try his clumsy best to assist in marrying off his sister, while Hunter would try to derail the process. He was pretty certain that it would be helpful Cord who did the most damage. He was such a sorry, screwed bear.

  His Uncle Pierre had always said that when a Benoit man found his match, he had all night for his courting. He had chuckled hugely at his joke, but refused to be specific. Over the years, cousins had hinted at the power of bear love, but of course no Benoit would ever discuss his sex life. Some things were sacred. And a man’s mate was high on that list.

  But maybe it was time to try a little Benoit magic? What was the worst that could happen? His mate would not dream of him, nor he of her. Which was pretty much life as he knew it.

  When he went to sleep he held in his hand the tiny carving of Erin he had made from a peach pit. She had eaten the peach right at his table and sucked the flesh from the seed before putting it on her plate. He had managed to slip it into his pocket unseen while the table was being cleared. It was just her face, because carving her naked body—even for his personal pleasure—struck him as downright unseemly.

  He had showered and shaved and combed his hair before bed. He didn’t know if that was necessary, but he figured if he was going courting he would have, so that’s was what he did. Of course, he would have put on his best clothes to take Erin someplace, but for this he figured his birthday suit was best.

  He ran his hands over his hairy chest and down as low as his thighs. He was hoping she liked him the way he came, because shaving his face was one thing, but that waxing business was a joke. For a guy like him that was hairy pretty much everywhere it would be a never ending torture. He was prepared to die for Erin, just not by inches for no purpose.

  He drifted off with the little talisman clutched in one giant fist. Wishing he had given something of his to Erin to make the magic take.

  * * *

  Erin had gone to bed in the living room. Even though the boys were sleeping at Len’s house, she was used to her spot on the couch. She had splurged and gone to the hairdresser after work today. First time in nearly six years. But she was feeling flush since Len had refused to let her contribute to the boys’ grocery bill.

  The stylist had insisted on hacking off nine inches of ragged split ends. Which had permitted the rest of her hair to regain its natural wave. Loose it looked richly blonde instead of mouse. She had felt pretty afterwards, for the first time in a long, long while. Not that Len had noticed her soft new hairstyle.

  Hunter and Cord had. Cord had gushed and drawn Len’s attention to her hair. Only then had Len complimented her. Hunter had said nothing but he had scowled. She suspected he had held his tongue because of Len’s presence.

  It was nice to have a little free time, and nice to have a little spending money. But she had to keep socking money away because these good times would soon be over. Len and Joe would fix up the house and sell it and go back to French Town and life in their woods. And she and the boys would be alone again. She was afraid she was in for some major heartbreak, because she had tumbled into love with that big lummox who wasn’t interested in her. Which was just another example of how dumb she was.

  She was wearing the oversized tee-shirt Cord had on the last time he came home. Some nonsense about borrowing it because all his own shirts were dirty. She had washed it, of course, but instead of giving it back to Len, she was sleeping in it. She inhaled and thought she caught a whiff of Len, some essential essence of alpha male. Laughing at her wayward heart and hormones she drifted off to sleep.

  Big hands gently fondled her starved, long neglected flesh. A deep rumble in her ear explained to her exactly how lovely and enticing her abundant curves were to the male who was caressing her. Erin moaned in her sleep and adjusted herself so the delicious sweep of rough palms could find her secrets. The rumble deepened even more and assured her she was the most alluring of all women.

  The hands were replaced by a worshiping mouth that kissed its leisurely way from chin to toes and back again. Erin moaned and panted and the mouth delicately tasted first one plump breast and then the other. A big tongue swept across her tender, straining aureoles and laved them until they were stiff and aching.

  The tongue left her nipples bereft to explore her navel. The warm damp lips first kissed and then blew hot arousing breath into the little hub. Erin jumped and the deep rumble became a laugh that vibrated to her core. Her passage was clenched tight, her sex was wet, but the kisses stalled at her bush. A tender puff of air and the voice favorably compared her scent to the headiest of perfumes and the lips moved on.

  Erin’s legs fell open but, although big hands lightly squeezed her thighs and she felt a brief kiss where they met her pussy, her dream lover did not touch her sex. He moved his big hands down her legs telling her all the while how perfectly formed they were for love, for him.

  She squirmed when the warm mouth enveloped each toe. And by the time her lover had dried them with a strip of velvety fur she was bathed in sweat and begging for release. The deep voice in her head was regretful. She was of all women the most desirable, and soon, very soon, he would claim her. But not tonight. The fur flicked swiftly over her tight, hot bud and was withdrawn.

  Erin woke to find Len’s tee-shirt up around her neck. Her body was tender and frustrated and as slick as if she had really taken a lover. Her nipples were aching peaks and she was pulsing with unsatisfied need. She looked around, but she was in her empty apartment, the street lights shining through her curtains. Fantasy time.

  * * *

  Len was broad awake on his mattress. His dick was an iron spike and his balls were aching spheres of tightly wound need. He was dripping with sweat as if he had just labored hard in a hot bed. He couldn’t believe the dream he had had.

  In his sleep he had lost his little peach pit, and he groped around in the damp and tangled sheets until he found it again. He kissed it in the dark. He didn’t know if his magic had succeeded. But he felt sure that tonight he had touched all the glories of his mate and found her ripe and luscious flesh beyond his imaginings.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Gotta get the roof fixed before it gets real cold,” Len told Erin. “Some of our kinfolk are coming next weekend to help out. My cousin’s fiancée has offered to have us all to supper Saturday evening, and again for lunch on Sunday.

  “I wonder if you would give her a hand with the food? For sure my cousin Jack will
bring Hannah, and her kinfolk. Our cousins Asher and Gideon are coming too. We expect about ten workers, plus Joe and the boys and me. That’s a lot of food for one pair of hands.”

  So now she was going to have to spend the weekend with Len’s cousin’s fiancée who owned a business and was Joe’s employer. She was a fair cook, but she didn’t do fancy. And how did you dress to go cook in some rich woman’s kitchen? Should she borrow a coverall from Diamond or just wear her jeans?

  * * *

  Erin tried to look at the face of her secret lover who crouched over her and massaged her body with some slippery and delicious substance. But her eyes would not open. His expansive chuckle resounded through her entire body as he kissed her eyelids and continued his enchantment.

  Her unknown lover swirled exotic, arousing patterns on the delicate skin of her belly, dipping into her navel, and stroking the sensitive undersides of her breasts. He murmured worshipful words about the bounty he was anointing. Erin moaned and tried to press into his taunting hands, but his resonant whisper admonished her to be still.

  The big slippery hands kneaded her flesh, here tugging, here pushing, wakening every inch. Erin felt moisture spring on her face, back and bottom. Belly and thighs and breasts were now so slick she could not tell if she was sweating there as well.

  Long fingers pulled and pinched her nipples, applying just the right amount of pressure, until they were unbearably stiff and tender. His warm mouth soothed them with leisurely swirls of his tongue. He pressed one and then the other against the roof of his mouth until sensation shot directly from nipple to pussy. Erin came in a great convulsion. She drifted again.

  Erin roused as, without apparent effort, her lover’s immense muscular hands turned her. Her back and bottom were blessed with the same unguent that had hallowed her from chin to muff. The potent scent of a spicy, woody fragrance mingled with the lush perfume of her own body.

  Her dream lover brought his face close to her buttocks and audibly sniffed. He licked her cleft once. She heard his deep rumble inform her of the delights of her own bouquet.