Dawn was coming. The sky had turned the deep silver-gray shade of a polished metal bowl, bringing an end to the worst night of Mary’s life.
She felt completely wrung out as she stood watching the firefighters pack up their equipment and drive off.
The piles of scorched plaster and wooden beams that had once been her cottage were still steaming in places, and her lawn and flowerbeds had been churned into mud by thousands of gallons of water, boots, and heavy hoses.
Most of her neighbors had gone back inside their homes, though not before approaching her and asking her if there was anything they could do for her, anything she needed.
Their concern made her feel a little less lost, but she still felt numb and in shock.
This can’t be happening. Please tell me this is all some sort of awful nightmare.
“Hey, how’re you doing?”
She blinked as someone shoved a lidded paper cup of coffee in her direction. She looked up and saw Tyler, now out of his firefighting gear and dressed in the standard uniform of BPRFD T-shirt and dark khaki pants.
In the dim predawn light, he looked really sexy. The feeling that she could trust him returned, even stronger than before.
It was strange. She was a cop, and even in a small, relatively safe town like Bearpaw Ridge, she didn’t often trust people at first sight. And given what she remembered about Tyler and the reason he’d left Bearpaw Ridge right after high school, she didn’t have any logical reason to feel the way she did.
Her Uncle Bill still grumbled about graduation night, when someone had stolen his official Jeep and gone for a joyride through town with lights flashing and sirens blaring.
All the shifters in town knew who had done it, but scent wasn’t admissible in an Ordinary court. Tyler had been smart enough not to leave any fingerprints and lucky enough that no one had stepped forward to say that they’d seen him behind the wheel.
But it wasn’t a coincidence that Tyler had left town a few weeks later.
And that was the last she or anyone else in Bearpaw Ridge had seen of him until he had returned this past February for his father’s funeral and had decided to stay for a while to rebuild his mother’s fire-damaged house.
Tyler was standing close enough to Mary that she caught a whiff of clean bear shifter male tinged with healthy sweat under all that smoke and the scent of freshly brewed coffee. There was something else too, an intriguing scent that was uniquely his.
I like the way he smells, her wolf said.
Like you can actually smell anything with all this stinky smoke, Mary countered, but she found herself agreeing with her wolf.
She caught herself beginning to lean towards him in hopes of taking a deep sniff.
Yikes. I’m more tired than I thought. She hastily straightened up and took a sip of the hot coffee.
It was delicious. Mary looked up and spotted Annabeth Swanson nearby.
Whenever something happened in town, Dane’s wife made a point to come by with coffee and pastries for the first responders. She owned the Cinnamon + Sugar Bakery & Café on Main Street, which was popular with both the locals and the tourists.
Annabeth waved and made her way over to Mary. Despite the ungodly hour, Annabeth looked awake and alert. She’d probably been at work for an hour or two already, baking batches of her famous cinnamon rolls in anticipation of the breakfast rush.
She gave Mary a hug, and Mary fought the urge to bury herself in the other woman’s soft, vanilla-scented embrace and sob into her shoulder. She’d known Annabeth ever since the red-headed baker had arrived in Bearpaw Ridge, but she and Annabeth had never been close.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry about your house!” Annabeth exclaimed, patting Mary’s back in a comforting way. “Do you need a place to stay? I’m sure Elle has a couple of vacancies at the ranch—”
“She’s staying at my place,” Tyler interrupted.
Mary felt Annabeth stiffen in surprise. “Your place?” she asked, sounding as if she couldn’t quite believe it.
Mary extricated herself from the other woman’s embrace and looked at Tyler. He was standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest, looking oddly defensive.
“Yes, he’s offered to rent me his spare room,” Mary said quickly. “His place is an easy walk to work, which is good, since my car is trashed.”
She very carefully did not look at the steaming remains of her garage. Her Toyota 4-Runner had only been a year old and nowhere close to being paid off. She only hoped her insurance would help her pay off the outstanding amount on the loan.
“Well, that’s really nice of you, Tyler,” Annabeth said brightly. “The guest houses at the ranch would be a much longer commute for Mary. It’s great that she’ll be able to stay in town.”
Tyler visibly relaxed. So did Mary, though she hadn’t been aware of tensing up.
Maybe the pack’s reaction won’t be as bad as I thought, if Annabeth likes Tyler.
But Annabeth liked everyone, and everyone liked Annabeth.
Annabeth squeezed Mary’s shoulder. “You let me know if you need anything—I have a set of spare dishes and silverware, and sheets and towels, that sort of thing.”
“Thank you,” Mary said gratefully. “Let me settle in, and I’ll let you know.”
Annabeth nodded. “You’re welcome to stop by for breakfast or lunch today or anytime.”
“I’m not planning to starve her,” Tyler protested, and Annabeth laughed.
“I believe you. Every bear shifter I know wants to feed people.”
With a cheery wave, she walked away to join her mate Dane, who was coiling up the last of the fire hoses.
“You all right with walking to my place?” Tyler asked, giving Mary’s sheep slippers a doubtful glance. “It’s just two streets over, but I can go get my truck if you need.”
For a moment, she thought he might swoop in to pick her up and carry her all the way to his house.
Bear shifters were like that when they got into one of their crazy protective moods. Though they usually only acted like that towards their mates.
Mary wasn’t anyone’s mate, she reminded herself with a tinge of bitterness. And she barely knew her new housemate.
“I’m fine.” She forced herself to smile at him. “Right now, I’d walk a mile for a hot shower and a nap in an air-conditioned room.”
He smiled back, a warm expression that lit up his hazel eyes. “I promise you’ll get both of those things, and I’ll even throw in a home-cooked breakfast.” He reached for the pile of albums stacked on the bumper of the fire engine. “Let me carry those for you.”
* * *
What the hell did I just agree to? Mary wondered as she followed Tyler to his house. Her head was pounding with fatigue and an adrenaline hangover, and her surroundings felt a little unreal right now.
She had let him take the photo albums but clung to her laptop, clutching it to her chest as she shuffled along in her soot-stained slippers.
My parents are going to throw a fit. And not just them. The entire pack is going to go apeshit, especially after what Tyler did to Uncle Bill’s car all those years ago.
She was a grown woman and way past the age where she needed her parents’ approval for anything. But she was also a wolf shifter, and pack members were raised to avoid creating conflict within the pack.
When her pack heard about her new housemate—and it wouldn’t be long before they did, because Bearpaw Ridge was a really small town, and news traveled fast—there was going to be hell to pay.
But Tyler had offered her an irresistible bargain. And like a wounded wolf, she needed to find a place to shelter right now. Every instinct had told her that Tyler would provide her with a safe place to go to ground.
And a shower. Oh God, do I ever need a shower!
“Here we are.” Tyler’s voice broke into her thoughts.
He’d been quiet during the walk, respecting her unspoken need to think.
Now he turned off the sidewalk and l
ed the way up a narrow concrete walkway to a lovely, century-old Arts & Crafts bungalow, charming where her place was just sort of ramshackle.
Had been ramshackle, she reminded herself. But her loss didn’t feel real yet.
From the outside, at least, Tyler’s home was in much better shape than her home was—had been.
Someone had restored the wood siding and the deep porch framed by a pair of square painted-brick pillars. The exterior of the bungalow was a freshly painted light gray with white trim, and the front door was a glossy dark red, providing a pop of color.
He opened the door for her, and Mary was greeted by a gentle rush of refreshingly cool air. It smelled faintly of fresh paint, oak sawdust, and polyurethane.
When Mary walked into her new home, she was greeted with a loud wolf whistle.
“Hey, baby!” someone called from the back of the house in a deep, sultry voice.
Tyler has another roommate? Startled, she turned to him and found him wearing an apologetic expression.
“I didn’t teach him that, I swear,” the big firefighter protested before she could say a thing. “Bogey’s a rescue. Gotta warn you that he’s got a mouth on him that would make a sailor blush.”
“Bogey?” Puzzled, Mary peered around the large, open-plan living room/dining room of her new home.
The furniture was simple but looked both relatively new and comfortable. The floors were honey-colored oak and looked newly refinished, with colorful rugs spread under the furniture. There was a huge flat-screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the comfy-looking sofa, a tiled fireplace, and a pair of French doors on the rear wall that led out to a wide wooden deck.
She saw a kitchen tucked into the back corner, separated from the rest of the space by a long pale gray stone breakfast bar.
Then she spotted a large white cage standing in the sunny breakfast nook. Inside, a large green parrot with a bright yellow face and a bone-colored beak clung to the cage bars, staring out at her with an inquisitive brown gaze.
As soon as she made eye contact, the bird said, “Hi, beautiful. Nice ass!”
Mary saw Tyler wince. “I didn’t teach him that either!” he exclaimed.
He glared at the cage and said with exasperation, “Bogey, why do you have to be such an asshole all the time?”
“Asshole,” Bogey repeated brightly. Then, like a toddler, he repeated joyously, “Asshole! Asshole! Asshole!”
Tyler’s bearded cheeks flushed darkly under his tan, and his expression turned mortified.
Despite her exhaustion and shock—or maybe because of those things—Mary began to laugh. “I’ve never met anyone who owned a parrot before.”
Tyler’s expression eased when he realized that she wasn’t angry. “He’s a lot smarter than I was counting on. The friend who rescued him warned me that living with Bogey would be like having a forever toddler armed with a can opener and pliers. I’m beginning to believe it.”
Mary raised her brows. Tyler smiled at her, and she felt that weird jolt again. “Like a kid, he even has his own toy box.”
“Toys. You mean like a dog’s toys?” she asked, fascinated.
“More like little kid toys—wooden blocks, puzzles, stuff like that.” Tyler pointed at the wall nearest the cage, and Mary spotted a large, clear-sided plastic bin filled with colorful wooden and plastic toys.
“And I have to switch out the toys in his cage every few days, or he gets bored.”
Mary considered the yellow-and-green bird, who returned her gaze with interest. “What happens if he gets bored?”
Tyler’s expression turned wry. “He picks the lock and gets…creative. Once was enough.”
Mary laughed. “One of these days, I’m going to hear that story.”
Tyler shuddered with comedic exaggeration. “I don’t talk about it. Ever. I just make sure that Bogey is kept entertained while I’m out of the house.”
“Hey, baby,” Bogey said softly.
Birds couldn’t smirk, but Mary was pretty sure he would have if he could have.
“But he’s usually a big sweetheart,” Tyler continued. “He can’t smell the bear on me—or maybe he just doesn’t care. Loves to hang out with me when I watch TV, and he really likes it when you pet his head and rub his beak.”
Mary looked at Bogey’s large beak with skepticism. “I’m not sure I want to take the chance.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Tyler said quickly. He carefully set her albums down on a coffee table. “So can I give you the tour?”
The tour didn’t take long, but Mary wondered how much of it she’d remember later. All she could think about right now was a shower and a nap.
The rest of Tyler’s house consisted of a short hallway leading to two bedrooms with a single shared bath that had a large claw-foot tub and a separate, newly tiled shower.
To her delight, a large coat closet in the hall had been refitted as an indoor laundry, with a stacked front-loader washer and dryer. Mary’s laundry had consisted of an ancient top-loader and dryer in her basement, and she had put off buying newer models because she couldn’t afford to get rid of any appliance until it was well and truly dead.
So of course her washer and dryer had continued to soldier on faithfully for the entire time she’d lived in her cottage. She’d grown to hate the many trips up and down the rickety wooden basement stairs.
Mary realized that she’d been bracing herself for a bachelor sty, with pizza boxes stacked high and empty beer cans everywhere. But everything in Tyler’s house looked and smelled newly renovated and looked light and airy. In fact, Tyler’s place was way less messy than her house had been.
“You like it?” Tyler asked, coming to a stop in front of the second bedroom. “I just finished the renovation. My landlord’s giving me a break on the rent in return for me restoring the place.”
“It’s much nicer than my cottage,” she said with a pang.
Especially now. Mary squeezed her eyes closed, trying not to think about the charred ruin she’d left behind this morning.
Gamely, she continued. “You do good work, Tyler. If I rebuild—”
“When you rebuild,” he said, his expression filled with compassion. “You had insurance, right?”
“My cousin Jennifer is the pack’s insurance agent. I couldn’t have said no even if I’d wanted to.” Mary tried to smile around the sudden stab of pain in her chest.
Tyler put a hand on her shoulder, and she felt instant comfort at his touch. “Look, I know you probably don’t see it right now, but it’s not as bad as you think. No one got hurt today…especially not you. We can fix everything else.”
Something deep inside Mary’s soul hummed like a plucked string at his use of we, as if they were a team.
You’re being silly because you’re tired and in shock, she told herself.
“My Grandma Betty always likes to quote John Lennon. Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.” Tyler smiled crookedly, and she was struck, yet again, that he somehow understood what she needed to hear right now.
“I want to believe that,” Mary said. “I just need some time.” She looked down at her ruined pajamas. “And some clean clothes.”
“That’s doable,” Tyler assured her. He opened one of the bedroom doors. “In the meanwhile, here’s your room. I’ll, uh, move my stuff out of there and get you some clean sheets and towels.”
He opened another of the doors in the hall, revealing the shelves of a linen closet. As he dug around in the piled fabric, Mary peeked into the bedroom.
The “stuff” turned out to be stacks of plastic filing bins filled with hanging folders and cardboard boxes labeled as new faucets and light fixtures. They formed a fortress wall around a queen-sized bed that was the room’s only furniture.
No nightstand, no chest of drawers, but she could probably get those from her brother Dean. He had a ton of old furniture stored in the big barn on his ranch.
But for right now, the bed h
ad a comforter and pillows, and it would do.
Tyler was as good as his word. Moving with swift grace, it only took him a few minutes to move all the bins and boxes out of her new room.
Mary stood, holding a set of clean-smelling sheets and folded fluffy towels, and found herself covertly admiring how his tight T-shirt highlighted the movements of his heavily muscled back and shoulders.
Stop it, she ordered herself. Remember how you swore you’d never date another bear shifter?
But she couldn’t stop looking. And wishing he’d take off his shirt. Like most of the Swanson males, Tyler was tall, broad-shouldered, and way too handsome for his own good.
And he had offered her a place to stay when she needed it most.
“Hey, I have an idea,” said Tyler as he piled the last of the filing bins along the hallway wall. “Why don’t I run over to your parents’ place and get you some clothes and stuff while you take a shower?”
It sounded like a wonderful idea. Every inch of Mary’s body craved soap and hot water, the sooner the better. The last thing she wanted to do right now was leave this air-conditioned refuge and walk over to her parents’ apartment on Main Street.
But Tyler was probably just as tired and dirty as she was—maybe more, since he’d been fighting the fire while she sat uselessly and watched her home burn.
“It’s really nice of you to offer,” she said, her refusal coming reluctantly. “But I can do it. I’m sure you have to go to work soon.”
She’d heard that he owned a construction company in Portland. Just how long was he planning to stay in Bearpaw Ridge?
Tyler shook his head. “I have a conference call at lunchtime but just computer stuff to take care of before then.”
“But—” she began.
He cut her off. “Look, you’ve had a rough night. And I need some fresh air. So let me do this, okay?”
Relief washed through her at his insistence, and she surrendered without further protest. “Thank you, Tyler.”
“Anything for my new roomie.” He grinned at her, and her heart missed a beat. No fair! He’s even hotter when he smiles.
Mary’s rational brain spoke up. No more dating bear shifters, remember?
Smoke (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 7) Page 3
