My Heat to Bear (The Everson Brothers Book 4)

by Olivia Arran

  I hadn’t loved her, but we’d been friends. Lovers for a while. Easy and uncomplicated, she’d lived and loved and laughed as though life were that simple. But it wasn’t.

  I had been her Fire Chief, her boss, the man she’d depended on, and I’d let her down.

  I’d let her die.

  She’d trusted me and I’d failed her.

  There it was, the sharp stab of guilt, twisting and churning in my gut until I was weak with regret.

  Jeanie was right not to trust me. Not to want me. But I couldn’t stand the way she thought of herself, dismissing herself as broken and not worthy, holding herself up against an image of perfection that was in itself a lie.

  Skin was just skin, a shell containing the true beauty and strength that lay beneath. It hurt me that she didn’t see this. That she didn’t know that when I looked at her, I’d never seen anyone more beautiful, inside or out. And that was only a glimpse of the woman I’d only just met, but I knew it was the truth. Just like I knew she deserved happiness, and I was going to make sure she got it. That meant getting to the bottom of what the hell had happened with this husband of hers. The thought of her being married to another man twisted a knife in my gut, but there was no rage. The man was gone and she was left hurt. No matter my feelings, I would never wish that for her.

  But all this meant that if I wanted to spend any time with her, it had to be at the station. There was no way around it. Could I continue to work with her, see her day after day, and not claim her? Not let her know how close I was to falling to my knees and begging her to let me worship her with my body? Shower her with soft kisses and tiny nibbles, tracing her luscious curves with my hands and mouth until she screamed my name. My lips parted on a soft groan at the thought of her thrashing beneath me, her nipples puckered and begging for my attention, her arms stretching up to me, dragging me closer and holding me tight. Her body welcoming me, slick and wet as I slid inside her, her breath feathering my cheek, eyes darkening as orgasm overtook her, until she shuddered in my arms as I found my release.

  Fuck. Shoving my hand into my shorts, I palmed my shaft, stroking the long, thick length in short, sharp jerks. Eyes squeezed tight, her soft moans and breathy sighs almost seemed real, the taste of her skin, the feel of her body cushioning mine as my hips thrust forward, my hand pumping harder, back arching and fingers digging into the dirt as I came, my deafening roar sending startled birds screaming for the sky.

  Slumping back onto my heels, shame washed over me. I knew I was a fucked up mess; I was going to break my number one rule of not caring for anyone at work. Fuck that shit, I already had, and look what it had gotten me so far: stroking one out in the forest on my knees. Fantasizing about a woman who obviously didn’t want anything to do with me. Pining for a mate I couldn’t trust myself to claim.

  But, I couldn’t see a way around it. I cared for her. A lot. If I were being honest, care wasn’t the right four letter word, but I couldn’t go there. Staring up at the sky, I came to the only decision I was capable of. I was going to ease back, let her get comfortable, and worm my way past her defenses. See if I could do something about easing the heartbreak she held out there for anyone with eyes and a conscience to see.

  Deep down, I knew I was avoiding making a decision, but it was the best I could do for now. I would double down on the charm offensive and hope that when it came to it, I could survive her leaving.

  Feeling lighter than I had in years, I leaned forward and tugged my T-shirt off over my head, shoving my shorts down and kicking them off. Trainers toed off and abandoned, I called the shift to me, letting it flow over my skin with a familiarity born of over one hundred years, bones growing and reforming, fur sprouting, until in my place squatted a huge, brown bear. Lumbering up onto my paws, I stretched up to the sky, sniffing at air scented with the bouquet of home. Pleasure rippled through me, the thought of running and rolling and catching some salmon enough to have a low, grumbly roar spilling from my jaws. My bear was happy; he was home at last, we’d found our mate, and he was about to be fed. Life couldn’t get much better, in his opinion. He was also stubborn enough to believe that it was only time before I gave into what he informed me was inevitable.

  It was an argument that had been going on for days.

  The man in me could appreciate his outlook, the simplicity of taking what we wanted, no thinking or judging or regrets coloring our decisions. But life shouldn’t be that simple, we should feel guilt for our mistakes, and remember that our decisions and actions have consequences.

  But, how I longed to give in and let him lead. According to him, we were strong and could protect our mate. He felt sorrow about what had happened to Tia, but she hadn’t been his mate. He was single-minded in pursuing what he wanted, and at this present moment he was butting heads with me in a way we hadn’t since being a cub and learning to co-exist.

  Mate…

  I ignored his grumble, instead suggesting we go fish in the lake.

  Easily distracted, we waded in, the water sinking into our fur and washing the heat and sweat away. Rearing up onto our hind legs, we watched and waited until the ripples had calmed, the fish swimming out of their hiding places and circling my legs. Rusty and out of practice, it took four swipes before I had a fish clutched in my paw, flailing and wriggling, it’s dusky pink skin glistening in the fading sunlight.

  My chuckle in bear form came out a growly cough.

  A strangled gasp whispered through the air.

  I froze, fur standing on end and lips pulling back from my teeth in a low snarl. My head whipped around, the salmon forgotten and landing back in the lake with a loud splash. I zeroed in on the origin of the sound, narrowing my eyes and scenting the air as every muscle in my body tensed, ready to launch myself forward. How much had the person seen? Did they know what I was? Family would have shown themselves by now.

  My bear roared at me to attack, primal instinct insisting that I eliminate the threat to our survival. Or at least scare them half to death.

  The human in me hesitated. I saved lives, or at least that’s what I tried to do.

  Leaves rustled, the soft breeze dying down in a lull that had trepidation tiptoeing down my spine and curling its icy fingers around my heart.

  A flash of brown hair, long and loose. Familiar.

  Jeanie? I squinted, peering harder into the shadows, refusing to give into instinct and holding my large body in check.

  A flash of metal in the sun. A sting on my shoulder, then pain streaked through me, punching a hole in my chest and stealing my air. I was falling, water swallowing me and dragging me down into depths stained cherry red.

  A shadowy figure hovered over me, hair hanging forward to form a curtain around a face blurry and indistinct.

  Dark pricked at the edges of my mind as I thrashed and snarled, rolling in the water, but my strength was gone, pouring out of me along with my blood. Lethargy clawed at me, digging in and dragging me down.

  After all this time, I was going to die at the hands of a hunter. Was it karma? I’d always thought karma was some kind of bullshit someone had made up to make themselves feel better when their life was sucking ass, but I was rapidly reassessing my opinion. I should give up and sink into blissful silence, it’s what I’d wanted for so long. To stop fighting. To feel nothing.

  Panic gripped me, pushing at the shadows. And that’s when I knew. At some point I’d chosen life, and I hadn’t realized it until now. Jeanie. She’d done this.

  Lungs burning, I pushed off the lakebed, thrusting my head up toward the surface.

  But I barely caused a ripple, my paws drifting off to float by my sides. Useless. Like me.

  Heat flooded me as the shift came uncalled and unwanted, and that’s when I knew it was over. The hunter would know, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Everyone I loved was at risk, and I was weaker than a newborn kitten.

  Forcing my eyes open, I stared at my hand, willing it to move, and that’s when I saw it: the dart st
icking out of my shoulder.

  Drugged then shot.

  The hunter had already known I wasn’t a natural bear, otherwise a bullet would have done the job just fine.

  But why? And who?

  Black eclipsed the light, my lips parting on instinct to draw breath.

  A booted foot landed on my chest, pressing down. “You shouldn’t have left the city, Max.”

  I know that voice, floated through the excruciating stab of pain.

  Hands grabbed at me. Glorious air tickled my skin.

  Then, nothing.

  Chapter Eight

  Jeanie

  It was the third time I’d checked, as if I expected Max to pop up out of nowhere, a wicked smirk on his handsome face and a suggestive twinkle in his eyes, but I’d been right the first time. He wasn’t here.

  Where the hell is he?

  It had been over twenty-four hours since he’d gone out for his run. Yesterday. No one had seen him since, or at least I was guessing they hadn’t—I wasn’t sure who he knew in town yet.

  “He’s not here?” Ted asked from behind me, chuckling when I jumped. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Say, you’ve been out of sorts lately; you know you can talk to me if you ever need to?” He brushed past me on his way into the big room, his steel toe cap boots thudding on the concrete floor. Wearing a near identical version of yesterday’s outfit, he smelled of soap and aftershave, his hair still damp from a recent shower.

  “I’m fine,” I snapped, immediately regretting my sharp tone. It wasn’t Ted’s fault I was fucked up ten ways to Sunday. Or that Max had decided to skip town after feeding me full of hope for near on a week.

  Rubbing a hand over my face, I sank into one of the comfy chairs next to the fire engine, picking a grape out of a bowl set on the small side table and rolling it between my fingers. Was that why I was so upset? Because he’d hinted he was interested and then he’d up and vanished without a word. Wasn’t this kind of what I’d wanted anyway? No Max, no complications.

  “You going to eat that?” Ted’s voice dragged me out of my funk.

  Throwing the squashed grape into the trash, I accepted the offered soda and popped it open. Taking a swig, I rested the cool can against my cheek, mulling everything over.

  “Jeanie, I’m worried—”

  “Me too,” I said, cutting him off. “But I don’t have the first clue where to look.”

  “I meant about you, but if we’re still talking about the new Chief…” Ted winced, taking the chair opposite me and bracing his elbows on his knees. “Listen, Jeanie, he’s a grown man. He probably found his way into a stranger’s bed last night and is still sleeping it off.”

  And that’s where my mind should have gone, would have gone if it had been any other man, but I’d like to believe Max wasn’t the kind of guy to declare his interest in one woman, then bed another. Or maybe I was fooling myself. Letting out a groan, I slapped the chair arm. Something didn’t feel right, no matter how many times I tried to convince myself that I was overreacting.

  “Just because we didn’t see him after his run, doesn’t mean he didn’t go home—or somewhere else—after,” Ted offered in a helpful tone.

  “Who does he know in town?” I wasn’t really asking Ted, more thinking out loud.

  “Pretty much everyone.”

  “What?”

  “He’s one of the Everson brothers. You knew that, right?” He was giving me a look that said I was either an idiot, or lived in a cave.

  “As in Ryan’s brother?” The sheriff of this town and someone I generally tried to avoid.

  “Yup. And don’t forget Ralph, Jack, and Craig.” Ted listed the local restaurant owner—the restaurant I’d recommended to Max, dammit—the town’s doctor, and someone I’d never heard of.

  “Craig?”

  “Artist; works with wood. His wife runs the small gift shop at the end of Main.”

  Now I remembered seeing him around town. Big guy, with a craggy face and blond hair. Bit of a recluse. “That’s the little magic shop, right?”

  “That’s the one. People say that she’s a witch, his wife, that is.”

  Shrugging off the gossip as irrelevant, I jumped to my feet. Checking my watch only confirmed my decision. It was past noon. Even if Max was holed up with a woman somewhere, I needed to know. For more reasons than one. “I’m going out.”

  Ted didn’t move, but he did shake his head. “You have checked his apartment, haven’t you?”

  “Three times. Look, you don’t have to agree with me, but I could use your help.” I waited for his nod, ignoring the fact that he didn’t look very pleased. “Watch the station for me and if he shows up, call me.” I waved my cell in the air as I backed away, already planning a route through the town that would take me past all three brothers’ places of work.

  Not waiting for his answer, I ran out of the door, up the street and into the station, only stopping when I was face to face with the sheriff himself. The door slammed shut behind me, sealing us in his small office. Beyond the glass window, Annie—the station clerk—hovered with a startled look on her face.

  “Ms. Carlton,” Ryan Everson drawled, waving Annie away and sitting back in his chair. He gestured at the seat in front of the desk. If he was surprised, he hid it well, only the blue of his eyes brightening with carefully controlled interest.

  “Call me Jeanie,” I replied, plonking my ass down and folding my hands on my lap. I hated it when people called me by my full name, a reminder that I was once again plain and single Jeanie Carlton, that my husband was gone.

  “Okay … Jeanie. What can I do for you?” He set down his pen, running an ink smudged hand through his hair before resting it on the desk.

  “I’m here about your brother.”

  This time his mouth turned down in a frown, resignation clouding his eyes as he reached for the pen and a notepad. “Which one is in trouble now?”

  I was pretty sure if I’d have come in here and told him that his brothers were having an orgy in the street, dressed in clown costumes, and letting their freak flag fly, he’d have taken me at my word. That’s what happened when someone pitied you, when they watched you break utterly and completely, the ugly kind of meltdown that some never came back from. Ryan had been there that day, he’d seen it all, had witnessed my darkest moments and I could see it in his eyes, that he’d not forgotten. It still haunted him.

  And, every time I looked him in the eyes, I wondered if I’d ever be allowed to forget.

  “Max.”

  “Ah, right. You work at the fire station now, don’t you?”

  As if he didn’t know everything that went on in his town. “Yes.”

  He set the pen and paper down again, linking his fingers together. “What’s he done?”

  “He’s not come into work today.”

  His frown deepened, but he didn’t spring to his feet or pick up his phone. “I’m sure everything—”

  I slammed my hands down on the edge of his desk, past caring what he thought of me. “He went out for a run yesterday and didn’t come back. No one has seen him since.” A stretch, but I was fast approaching the limit of my patience.

  Ryan tensed, his eyes darkening. “Yesterday?” At my nod he reached for his phone, jabbing buttons and ending each conversation with curt warnings and mounting frustration. “No one’s seen him.”

  I leaped to my feet, vindication tasting sour. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

  He strode to the door, flinging it open. “Annie, man the desk. Max is missing. My brothers will be checking in every ten minutes as we search the grid. John, grab the radios. I need you to canvas the town, we’ll head on up into the forest,” he barked out, then rounded on me. “Jeanie, I need you to stay—”

  “No.” Sticking my chin out, I squared up to him the best I could. No way was I staying behind.

  “Jeanie, be reasonable—”

  “I’m coming with you. I’m a trained fire fighter and you need everyone o
ut there looking for him.” I cut him off with a glare that had his eyes flashing and strain lining his jaw, but he nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank me when we find him,” I murmured as I followed him over to Annie, accepting a radio. We were going to find Max, we had to.

  The front door crashed open and the station was suddenly filled with large, muscular men, their voices rough and worried, bodies rippling with tension and urgency. His brothers, I realized, as I stared up into their faces and saw glimpses of Max in each of them. No sooner had they reached a plan of action, the door flew open again, a large, burly man striding in and commanding the room. Older than the other men, his hair was dashed with silver, his face lined with the telltale signs of a full life, and his brown eyes were dark with worry.

  Hang on a damn minute. They were brown, but they were also gold. Sparks and swirls of the molten metal swam in his gaze, breathtaking and unnatural.

  His gaze locked onto me, boring into me and demanding answers I didn’t have. “You can lead us to him.” At his quiet statement the flurry of activity dissolved into stunned silence.

  “Pa?” It was Ralph that spoke, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

  “She’s his true mate. She knows where he is.”

  All eyes turned to me. Refusing to cower under the gazes of these five strong, powerful men, I stared back, hoping they couldn’t tell that my knees were shaking. “What do you mean by that?” The words the older man had used—Max’s father, from the sounds of it—they didn’t make any sense. I tried again when I didn’t get an answer. “I don’t know where Max is!” Did they think that I’d kidnapped him? That I was playing some kind of game?

  As one, they turned away from me, huddling together as they whispered in short, sharp bursts, probably designed to drive me crazy.

  Edging forward, I strained to listen in, catching the odd word or two, but hearing nothing of value. “Hey!” Picking a shirt covered back at random, I prodded it.