Sam (BBW Bear Shifter Wedding Romance) (Grizzly Groomsmen Book 2)

by Becca Fanning

  Then I got the call back.

  It was Mr. Duggar on the other end. He told me that he represented interests in the deep academic research field, groups I’d never have heard of. What he sought to do was go into the Smoky Mountain Nation Park to conduct a survey of certain cave fungi. Doing so would give evidence to support further protection and conservation of these natural resources.

  He was very pleased to hear about my enthusiasm for the project and my skills at land navigation and map reading. He said the areas we’d be hiking through were off-trail and beyond any kind of GPS reception. I told him about Dale and Jimmy, and he approved their attendance as well. Dale and Jimmy were reluctant at first, but they agreed to join me once I’d chided them enough.

  “Here comes a river!” Jimmy said.

  The small sign on the side of the road read Willtucket River. I smiled with pride, confident and grateful that I was right. The bridge was very old, very rickety. Our Jeep proceed across it gingerly. Some of the wooden slats below creaked in alarming ways, but we made it across without incident.

  “there’s a diner up ahead,” Dale said. “Should we stop for dinner?” He was addressing Mr. Duggar.

  Mr. Duggar was still engrossed in his notes, scribbly handwriting and graphs all combined in a huge three ring binder. He would furtively flip between pages, cross-referencing who knows what. I’d looked over at his notes several times to peek at what he was writing, but to no avail. I couldn’t make it out at all.

  “Yes, yes,” he said, waving his hand towards Dale in a dismissive gesture. “But lets be quick about it.”

  I looked out the window at the diner and was giddy. It was an old-fashioned railcar diner. Thirty feet long and a shiny chrome exterior, the Dinner Club was barebones. I didn’t think these existed anymore, though it was surely out of necessity and not kitsch factor

  It looked like we were the only patron as we parked, the sun now fully set behind the canopy of trees. A bell jingle greeted us from overhead as we entered. A tired waitress behind the counter opened my arms wide, indicating that we had the run of the place. We chose a table in the back.

  I took a seat next to Jimmy, his knee brushing against mine wonderfully as he sat. I didn’t realize how famished I was until now, but I had to restrain myself. I had a love-hate relationship with food. I loved eating it, hated what it did to my weight. I’d always been a bit self conscious about my weight, but things had only gotten worse in college.

  “Whacannigetcha?” the waitress said. Her nametag read DENISE and was skewed at an angle, obvious she wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

  “Umm, menus would be a good start,” Dale said, looking around the table as if they were hiding somewhere.

  Denise sucked air through her teeth and lumbered back behind the counter. A crash of silverware was followed by her quiet cursing. She walked back to us and dropped four menus onto our table without a word. She walked back behind the counter to clean up my mess.

  “I’ve heard of places like this,” I said. “They have horrible service on purpose. It’s part of the charm.”

  “I don’t think this is one of those places,” Dale said. “I think this is just an unlucky coincidence.”

  “No such thing as coincidence,” Mr Duggar said. “That’s fatalism talking. You’re the master of your destiny, and everything happens for a reason. Thinking otherwise is foolish,” he said, looking down at his menu.

  Dale shook his head and also looked down at his menu.

  I could feel the tension build between these two and hoped the waitress came back soon. “Oh, homemade chicken pot pie,” I said.

  The waitress knocked something else over behind the counter, and another crash of silverware was met by very loud cursing this time. I tried to stifle a laugh but I couldn’t. Dale joined me, and we had to fake coughing when Denise came back to our table.

  “Whacannigetcha?” she said. my eyes were a little more alert, but the boredom of her spirit couldn’t be hidden.

  “House salad,” I said. “No dressing.”

  Jimmy and Dale shared a brief look.

  I knew my order would get attention, but it was none of their business. Now I was annoyed.

  “I’ll do the farmer’s skillet,” Jimmy said.

  “Pulled pork sandwich,” Dale said.

  “White toast, no butter,” Mr. Duggar said.

  I shared a glance with the boys. This guy was a little off, but so far he’d been upfront about everything. He paid for everything on our trip, his reserve of cash covering all expenses thus far.

  “So what are your plans for after graduation, Teresa?” Mr. Duggar asked me as we waited for our dinner.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I admitted. I still had two years to go, and I was much more focused on the next semester.

  “Earth science is a great field of study if you go to work in the petroleum industry,” Mr. Duggar said. “Someone with your talent for maps would be excellent at finding new oil fields,” he said.

  I beamed with pride. I had never thought about that. It made sense.

  “You don’t want to do that, Teresa,” Dale said. “Those companies do incredible damage to the planet. Damage that future generations will have to endure.”

  “You mean benefits future generations will reap,” Mr. Duggar said. “Our modern civilization is built on lots of energy, and for the time being that means fossil fuels.”

  Denise came back to the table, dropping plates in front of us without fanfare.

  “Now let’s just eat so we can get back on the road,” Mr. Duggar said, ending the conversation.

  We all set in to eating. I made the best of my salad, but lettuce is still lettuce. The others seemed to enjoy their meals more than I, even Mr. Duggar and his plain toast. Denise dropped off the check without asking if we wanted dessert or anything else.

  Dale pulled out a credit card and put it on top of the check. “I’ve got dinner,” he said.

  Mr. Duggar shook his head. “No, that will not do.” He slapped Dale’s credit card on the table back in front of Dale. He then picked up the check and walked to the counter to settle the tab.

  In cash.

  “What do you think that’s about?” Jimmy said.

  Dale just shrugged, putting his card back in his wallet. “Some people get weird about generosity. They think it’s like an attack on their personhood.”

  “You’re really getting into that psychology class, aren’t you?” I said.

  “Yeah, I guess I am,” he said.

  “Carlita’s in that class, right?” Jimmy said. He hid a mischievous smile behind his water glass.

  “Bro, come on,” Dale said. His cheeks were turning red.

  My heart sank a little. I didn’t have any boyfriends in college, but some part of me held onto a short list of available guys who were possible. If there was another woman in Dale’s life, then my chances were pretty much nil.

  “She’s just a friend,” Dale said.

  “Let’s go,” Mr. Duggar said, returning to the table. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

  We all piled back into the Jeep, the immaculate vehicle Mr. Duggar picked us all up in the day before. It had was the first time the three of us had ever met him. He insisted on picking us up at the edge of town outside a derelict shopping mall. I was so glad Jimmy and Dale were there with me: the place was frightening.

  Eventually this shiny brand new Jeep pulled up and we met Mr. Duggar. He took our cellphones, insisting that they would be returned after the expedition. His reasoning is that they wouldn’t work in the mountains, and besides the contracts we signed forbade us from talking about any details of the trip with anyone.

  Dale and Jimmy gave louder protests than I, but eventually I cajoled them into coming along. I was taken back by Mr. Duggar’s demeanor, but I knew some people just needed some warming up. So we three piled into the Jeep and headed for the Smoky Mountain National Park.

  The orange glow from the diner illuminated the inside of the J
eep, and again I was surprised by how clean it was. Usually when you have a car, even when it’s brand new and you try to keep it clean, you let little things slip by. This thing was either less than a week old or professionally detailed every weekend. Either explanation could make sense for Mr. Duggar.

  I got into the front seat, and Jimmy took the wheel. Dale and Mr. Duggar hopped into the back. We pulled away from the little trainer diner, our bellies full and the car warm. I yawned, and closed my eyes to rest them a moment.

  I was back on campus. Well, kind of. I was dreaming that I was back on campus. I’d been a lucid dreamer for years, and I could recognize the signs that it was a dream. I was in the Science Lab building, but I didn’t feel like dreaming about running a composite analysis on some igneous rock samples.

  Instantly I was somewhere else. Somewhere I’d never been before. I was inside the athletic complex! Rows of trophies behind glass extended down the entire length of the hallway. I heard running water coming from nearby, and I instinctually followed it.

  I rounded a corner and found a large open entryway. Clouds of mist poured out of the room, and the sounds of steamy showers came from within. I stepped into the clouds of steam, and looked down at my body. My clothes were gone, replaced by a bath towel.

  Through the steam clouds I heard humming, and walked towards it. Hot water ran past my feet, swirling delightfully between my toes. The steam cleared and I saw Dale standing in front of me.

  His head bent forward, the shower spray was cascading down his broad back. I saw the droplets flow over his muscles. I slowed them down, enjoying the way they randomly chose to go left or right around a bulging bicep or shoulder. The water trailed further down, slinking past his waist and down to his stunning ass.

  This ass was mouth watering. It had the perfect amount of width and a strong definition. I thought about what it must feel like, to run my hands across it. To squeeze it. To dig my fingernails into it. I bit my lip, needing him. A tiny voice whispered to me from somewhere that I could have him. I could take him right there. It was my dream. But I knew that would cheapen it.

  Dale turned letting the water pour down his face and chest. His chin was sculpted from granite, the kind you wanted to sit on and ride all night long. His pecs were solid, his nipples small. The water ran down him the way I wanted to run my tongue down him. His abs flexed, showing off his six pack. His innie belly button was like a small island amidst the flat sea of his belly.

  My eyes went further down. They wouldn’t stop. They couldn’t stop. He had that little treasure trail of hair that extended down from his belly button that drove me wild. This treasure trail led down to a trimmed nest of short hairs right above his lengthy cock. It hung thick, low and full of power. He turned briefly and I could actually see it swing! His ballsack was nestled behind his prick, two massive stones full of seed and needing to be emptied.

  I didn’t need a written invitation. I dropped my towel and stepped forward, my hands reaching out to his chest, my mouth tilted up to meet his.

  “Teresa. Hey Teresa!” Jimmy said, nudging me awake.

  “Wha? Huh?” I said. Sputtering awake, I tried to make sense of the lack of naked man in front of me. Sighing, I yawned and looked over at Jimmy. “Yo.”

  “Umm, I think we’re here,” Jimmy said, barely above a whisper. He glanced back at Mr. Duggar, who was now snoring. Dale was also asleep. “Think I should wake everyone up?”

  “You woke me up to ask if we should wake everyone else up?” I said. I sensed a little more edge in my voice than I meant, but damnit that dream was about to get good! Sighing, I looked at the dashboard clock. It was just past 2 in the morning. It was pitch black outside, with nothing but the deep forest as company.

  “Are you sure we’re here?” I said. Out the front and to both sides there was nothing but trees.

  “Service Road 43-B, right?” he said.

  “Yeah, then I guess we’re here,” I said. I wiped a little cold drool from the side of my mouth and spun around. “Hey guys, we’re here.”

  The two men in the back groggily woke up and rubbed their eyes. Dale stretched and looked outside the window. Mr. Duggar stifled a yawn and shook himself awake. “I trust this is the right location?”

  “Yes, Service Road 43-B. It ends right here. We can’t go any further in the Jeep,” Jimmy said.

  “Then we continue on foot. Let’s get our gear, please make sure you have everything. We won’t be back here for a week,” Mr. Duggar said, opening the door and stepping outside.

  A gust of freezing air flowed into the Jeep and made the three of us grit our teeth. This was going to suck. I inhaled sharply, as if holding my breath would do anything, and leapt out into the frigid air of these ancient mountains.

  Ancient and unique. It was known that there were many species that only existed on small stretches of these mountains. The unpredictable weather and inaccessibility made exploring and cataloging its inhabitants difficult. I knew a group that had come here seven years ago discovered a new species of salamander, and I was excited at the possibility of us having the same luck. Maybe it would even be named after me!

  Ok, probably not. And we were here looking for fungi, not critters. Getting a fungus named after me would be kind of cool, I guess. But a frog or worm would be so much cooler!

  I closed the door behind me and immediately wanted to get back into the vehicle. there’s something about being out in the wilderness that is really discomforting. Everything is sharper, more enhanced. With no traffic, no street lights, no signs of civilization at all, your senses turn up to eleven. That evolutionary part of your brain kicks in, that little part that kept your ancestors alive for tens of thousands of generations.

  And right now that little part of my brain wanted to book a hotel room at the nearest Mariott and order some room service. I swore at my rotten luck, ignoring the fact that I volunteered for this and luck had nothing to do with it. I walked to the back of the vehicle where Mr. Duggar was putting on his pack.

  I reached past him into the open trunk to retrieve my pack. I pulled it out of the trunk and it landed with a dull thud against the forest floor.

  Thirty-two pounds didn’t sound like a lot of weight when I was deciding what to bring. A week was a long time, and I thought there couldn’t be any harm in overpacking. Better safe than sorry, I told myself as I wandered the aisles of the sporting goods store. Tent, sleeping bag, camp stove: those were defensible purchases. But why did I buy a collapsible camping chair? A folding knife and a comically large bowie knife? Why yes, I would like the canister of bear mace!

  I dragged my pack away from the trunk so everyone else could reach their stuff. I lifted the pack up with both hands and tried to swing my arm into the shoulder strap. I succeeded, then got pulled backwards and fell down onto the forest floor. “Help,” I said, my arms flailing like an overturned turtle.

  “Whoa there,” Dale said, rushing over to me. He took both my hands in his and pulled straight back. there was no strain in his effort: he lifted me like one would lift a pillow off a couch.

  I practically flew up into the air and crashed into him, my breasts pressing into his firm chest. I felt my cheeks go flush, and a bit of warmth inside me fought against the cold night air.

  “Let’s make that the only fall of the trip,” Jimmy said, coming around to the back of the vehicle. He plucked his pack from the trunk and locked in the straps that went across his waist and chest. He hesitated, then said, “I’m sorry if that came out rude. But we’re out here with no way to call for help. Let’s just be careful.” He leaned back into the trunk to rummage around.