Heat: A Werebear + BBW Paranormal Romance (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 1)

by Sexton, Ophelia

  If Evan hadn't jolted her back to reality, she probably would have torn Dane's clothes off and had her wicked way with him right here in the middle of the bakery.

  Evan sighed. "He's really got it bad for you, you know. I haven't seen him like this in years."

  Then he frowned and looked away, as if remembering something unpleasant.

  "Really?" Annabeth said, disbelieving.

  Dane had it bad for her? Tall, gorgeous, unbelievably sexy Dane?

  Then she remembered that she was still holding the box of lemon bars and brownies. "Would you give this to your brother, please? He, ah, forgot them."

  "Not surprising. I think he got distracted by something even sweeter than whatever you've got in here." Evan inhaled deeply as he took the box from her. "Mmmm, lemon and chocolate? What do I have to do to get a care package?"

  Annabeth felt the blush start at her chest and move up over her face in a wave of heat. Even her scalp was burning.

  Evan stared down at her, an unreadable expression on his tanned, clean-shaven face. "Promise me that you won't hurt him, Annabeth. Please."

  "Why would I want to hurt him? Dane is…well, he's wonderful."

  That only made Evan sigh and shake his head. "Our family has some…stuff…going on," he said, vaguely but ominously. "Not everyone can handle it. The last woman Dane was serious about…it didn't end well."

  Annabeth blinked, not sure what to make of this odd revelation. "Okay," she said cautiously. "I'll keep that in mind."

  Chapter 4 – Convinced

  For the next few days, Dane tried to lose himself in work. God knew, there was never any shortage of things that needed to be done on a ranch—brush cut, fences repaired, calving, painting, you name it.

  And then there were the emergency calls that came in for the fire department—a car accident, a near-drowning, and a kitchen fire.

  The car accident was awful—a rollover at high speed on a twisting county road about twenty miles out of town.

  Dane, Mark, and Evan managed to extract the victim from the wreckage and call for a Medevac helicopter, but they received the news a few hours later that the critically injured young man hadn't made it.

  But even keeping himself busy wasn't enough to keep Dane's thoughts from replaying those few blissful moments in the bakery, when sweet, curvy Annabeth had been in his arms, kissing him just as enthusiastically as he had been kissing her.

  It had taken every ounce of his self-control not to push her against the nearest wall and fuck her brains out. He wanted to hear her moan his name, wanted to see her face when he made her come again and again…

  He tried to convince himself that he should stay away from her. That she'd break his heart when she finally learned the truth about his shifter side.

  But deep in his heart, Dane knew that Annabeth was nothing like Tanya.

  Besides, it was already too late. Annabeth was going to break his heart no matter whether he stayed away from her or not.

  He wondered if she had a boyfriend, someone she'd left behind. Someone she missed.

  And found that the thought of Annabeth in another man's arms…or bed…made his bear seethe with angry jealousy. That surprised him. Dane had never been the jealous type.

  When Evan knocked on the door of Dane's house after dinner on Saturday evening, Dane had settled down on his couch and was watching the Utah Jazz versus Denver Nuggets game.

  He'd been expecting either Mark or Evan to join him at some point, since they usually hung out together to watch games.

  Each of the Swanson brothers had his own house on the ranch, with their widowed mother still living in the big, century-old main house.

  The ranch office was located in the main house, as well as the big formal dining room, where the family gathered for Sunday dinners and holidays.

  Dane's home was the second-oldest building on the property and had originally been built as a retirement home by the first Swanson to settle in the area, when Dane's great-grandfather had turned the day-to-day operations of the ranch and the main house over to his son.

  "So about Annabeth," Evan began, once he'd taken a seat and opened the cold beer that Dane had offered him. "I know what Mom's been saying, but I think you should go for it."

  "What?" Dane asked, yanking his attention away from the basketball game.

  After catching him kissing Annabeth, Evan had given him plenty of shit over the past couple of days. He sounded completely serious now, though.

  "I mean, how many single women are there in Bearpaw Ridge, anyway? Not nearly enough, I'm sayin'. And Annabeth's awesome. I really like her, and I wouldn't mind having her as my sister-in-law. Especially if she brings dessert to Sunday dinners."

  Dane stared at Evan, surprised. He had expected his younger brother to repeat the advice that Mom had given him about dating non-shifters.

  "In fact," continued Evan, "if you're not going to date her, maybe I will. She looks really cuddly, and she smells ni—"

  "Shut up," growled Dane. He was up and on his feet in an instant, leaning over his brother's chair. He felt a snarl twisting his lips. "And stay away from Annabeth. She's mine."

  He stopped speaking, shocked at the violence of his instinctual response to Evan's suggestion.

  Evan smirked. "Good. I just wanted to hear you admit it." He slapped Dane's shoulder. "Don't let her get away, big brother."

    

  "Annabeth, please come home. Haven't you punished me enough?" Roger was actually sobbing into the phone, and Annabeth felt awful.

  She just wanted him to hang up and leave her alone. He'd been stalking her on Facebook, sending dozens of PMs and text messages, and calling her every day since she'd left the Bay Area.

  And of course, his phone calls always came at the worst possible moment while she was working. It had gotten to the point where she put her cellphone on Vibrate during work hours, which meant that he filled up her voice mailbox with pleading messages for her to call him back.

  Tonight, in a moment of weakness, she had answered her phone when he called after dinner. She was already sorry she'd done it.

  "This isn't about punishing you, Roger," Annabeth said, as patiently as she could. "I told you, I'm just getting my new business off the ground. I can't go anywhere for a while."

  And I don't want to go back to the Bay Area and deal with you, she thought but didn't say.

  Roger was in pain. That much was clear. And she didn't want to hurt him more than he was already hurting.

  But how she wished he would just give up and stop calling her! Other people had boyfriends who ghosted them, just stopped calling and coming by. Why couldn't Roger have been one of those guys?

  "I want to come out and visit you," he said. "Where did you move to, anyway?"

  "Uh…" The thought of Roger coming to Bearpaw Ridge instantly made her feel anxious and panicky. Don't tell him!

  "It's not a good time," she said quickly. "I'm working fourteen-hour days right now, and I need to focus."

  "I can't believe how selfish you're being," he told her, his voice trembling. "I love you, and you just left. How could you do that? I was willing to marry you, and you didn't even give me a chance to say goodbye."

  What? He's trying to make this my fault?

  Annabeth's irritation boiled over.

  "I left you because you broke into Cacao and ruined my work because you were trying to get me fired!" Annabeth snapped. "That's not normal behavior! I've made a new start here, and I don't want to see you."

  There was a long silence. Inwardly, Annabeth cringed and waited for the explosion.

  And had to remind herself that Roger couldn't do anything to her now. She was 900 miles from the Bay Area, and she'd taken everything she valued with her when she packed up.

  "Annabeth, please," Roger said, and he sounded like he was about to start crying again. "I'll—I'll sign up for anger management classes. We'll go to couple's counseling. Anything. I'll do anything if you just come home."

>   He paused. Annabeth let the silence stretch between them. She had nothing to say that she hadn't already said.

  "And…I never hit, you did I?" he continued, at last, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. "Why are you making such a big deal out of one little incident? Especially when it was your fault you made me so mad!"

  She choked on the unfairness of that statement.

  "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Annabeth, and I'm sorry I fucked it up. Just come back. Please." She heard him take a shaky breath. "We still have a deposit at the San Mateo Tea Gardens for the wedding. I—I haven't canceled it yet, because I'm hoping…I'm really hoping…"

  More sobs.

  And instead of guilt, all Annabeth felt was revulsion and resentment that he couldn't just let it go. Accept that they had broken up, that she was gone for good, and find someone else to date.

  Until she had come to Bearpaw Ridge, she had never lived on her own.

  Before now, she hadn't realized how tense she had been all the time that she'd shared Roger's condo. Living with him had felt like she was constantly walking on eggshells, trying to avoid making mistakes or doing anything that might make him angry at her.

  These past few weeks, as hectic as they had been, she had felt like she could finally breathe. And truly relax, knowing that the bakery and the apartment were hers and hers alone.

  No one yelled at her for leaving her paperwork piled on the coffee table. And she didn't spend all her time worrying about how to avoid offending Roger. Or wondering what punishment he would come up with next.

  Maggie had been right about Bearpaw Ridge. People were very friendly here. Everyone said "Hi" when they passed you in the street, and if you were driving, they'd wave at you as they went by.

  And best of all, Annabeth's constant gnawing sense of anxiety had dissipated in the clean mountain air.

  "Roger, I'm sorry," Annabeth said, as gently as she could. "But it's over. I'm not coming back. You need to move on."

  His sobs stopped abruptly, and the silence on the line turned cold.

  "You ungrateful little bitch," he said, his tone abruptly filled with loathing. "You think you're going to find someone else? I only fucked you because I felt sorry for you. I tried to help you improve yourself, but you're nothing but a stupid fat bitch and—"

  Shocked by his sudden venom, Annabeth disconnected the call.

  She stared down at her phone. Her hand was shaking, and she felt like she'd just been punched in the stomach.

  The depths of the bubbling pit of resentment and hate lurking just below his handsome surface shocked her to her core.

  She had actually felt sorry for him!

  "How did my man-picker get to be so broken?" she said out loud to her empty apartment.

  And if she had been so wrong about Roger, then maybe she needed to take things slow…really slow…with Dane.

  Dane didn't seem like the kind of person who would take away the set of Christmas ornaments inherited from her grandmother and donate them to Goodwill to punish her for breaking one of his rules…but then again, she hadn't expected Roger to do that, either.

  Chapter 5 – Screwed

  The day that Annabeth afterwards referred to as her Awful, Terrible, No Good Day began innocuously enough.

  She woke up when her alarm went off. After braiding her hair and getting dressed in her chef's whites, she gulped down her breakfast. Then she went downstairs to the bakery to mix her first batch of sweet yeast dough for cinnamon rolls.

  While the dough was rising, she prepped lemon bars and pecan-bourbon brownies and stuck them in the oven to bake.

  Then it was time to grind and brew the coffee for her customers before the morning rush began.

  While the coffee was brewing, she rolled out batches of the sweet yeast dough in long rectangles, slathered them with butter and a thick layer of cinnamon sugar, then rolled each rectangle up into a log before cutting thick slices. The slices were placed side-by-side in a big baking pan.

  The cinnamon rolls prepped and starting their second rise, she pulled the brownies and lemon bars out of the oven and put the pans on racks to cool. Then she put the first batch of rolls in the oven, set the timer, and started a batch of cream cheese frosting for the rolls in one of her countertop stand mixers.

  In a moment of inspiration, she started a chocolate ganache frosting in her other countertop mixer, for the buttermilk brownie cupcakes that were the next thing on her list.

  While those were going, she started the cupcake batter in the Hobart, feeling like she was being super-efficient today.

  Five minutes before the bakery was due to open, the lights flickered and went out.

  And all of the appliances went silent.

  Annabeth ran to the front of the bakery and peered out into the pale gray light of dawn, wondering if the whole town was affected by the power outage. But the streetlights were on, as was the neon sign of the pizza place across the street.

  The blackout was limited just to her bakery, it seemed.

  Annabeth stood momentarily frozen with horror as she contemplated the disaster. Then she took a deep breath, wiped her hands on a clean towel, and began making an assessment.

  The mixers were all dead in the water. But the oven was gas, thank God, so it was still functioning. Only the ignition system and controls were electric, so if she left the cinnamon rolls in the oven, they should finish baking, though she needed to set a timer on her smartphone. And she wouldn't be able to turn off the oven until the power came back on.

  She wouldn’t be able to make espresso drinks without electricity, but she had two out of her three Airpots filled, and the remaining pot was supposed to be Decaf.

  Okay, that's manageable.

  The cash register was electronic, but she might be able to get by with a calculator and a pad of paper to record her sales.

  Oh, God, I hope that whatever's wrong with the power can be fixed quickly. And cheaply.

  Annabeth walked to the front of the bakery and saw that her usual crowd of early birds were already lined up outside her door, including three of the town's volunteer firefighters.

  None of the Swanson brothers were around this morning, she saw with disappointment.

  She always hoped that Dane would come by for a pastry and coffee. Even just a quick hello and a smile during morning rush would lift her spirits for the rest of the day.

  What should she do? On the one hand, she didn't have any lights or power. On the other hand, she did have freshly baked goods and freshly brewed coffee to sell…

  "Good morning, everyone," she said as cheerily as she could manage as she unlocked the front door. "I'm having some problems with my equipment, so it's going to be cash only this morning, sorry. But please come in."

  All things considered, the first two hours went fairly smoothly.

  She received a fair amount of sympathy and understanding nods when she explained why the lights were off and she couldn't accept credit or debit cards today. And her cinnamon rolls sold out quickly, as usual.

  Then things began to go downhill. It began with her cellphone ringing. She glanced at it. Roger. She hit the Ignore button and went back to her customers.

  Then her bakery's landline rang.

  "Good morning, Cinnamon + Sugar," said Annabeth. "How may I help you?"

  "Hey, Bethie," said Roger, breezily, as Annabeth froze in shock. How did he get this number? "I need to talk to you about the deposit we have for the Tea Gardens. I want to—"

  "I can't talk. This is a bad time, Roger," Annabeth said, trying to keep her irritation out of her voice. "I’m in the middle of my morning rush."

  "Look, what would you think about moving the reception to a restaurant, instead?" Roger continued, ignoring her. "I talked to the manager at Salt & Bourbon, and—"

  "What reception? Roger, what the hell are you talking about? I'm not marrying you. Good bye," she snapped, and hung up.

  Only to meet Evan Swanson's amused look. He had come
in while she was on the phone.

  Dane's younger brother was wearing fireman's pants and a sweat-stained T-shirt…and a grin that promised trouble.

  "I'm sure Dane will be happy to hear that you're not marrying this Roger person, whoever he is," Evan said.

  Annabeth felt her face go hot in embarrassment.

  "Uh," she began, and then had absolutely no idea what to say next.

  What had Dane told Evan about her?

  "Sorry," Evan said quickly. "I just couldn't resist the chance to tease you a little. I wasn't trying to be mean. Honest!"

  He was still smiling, an irresistible mixture of charm and good humor.

  With an effort, Annabeth suppressed her turmoil from Roger's call, put her hands on her hips, and frowned at Evan with mock sternness.

  "I'm glad to hear you say that," she teased back. "Since I only have one cinnamon roll left, and I know that Mark would never be mean to me." She smiled at the other Swanson brother, who was standing patiently in line behind Evan. "Would you, Mark?"

  He shook his head solemnly. "No, ma'am. Especially not if it would cost me one of your cinnamon rolls." He cuffed Evan lightly on the back of his head. "In fact, I think my little brother needs a little punishment. Why don't you sell me that roll and just give him a coffee? Black, no cream or sugar."

  Her cellphone vibrated. She ignored it.

  "Mark! Not helping!" protested Evan, laughing. "C'mon, Annabeth. I know you're a nice person. You wouldn't punish a man who was kicked out of bed at four a.m. on a 911 call, now would you?"

  Her landline rang again.

  "Of course not," she said, hastily shoving the cinnamon roll in question into a waxed-paper bag and handing it to Evan. "Sorry, Mark. And excuse me, please."

  "Good morning, Cinn—" she began.

  "Bethie, I really need to—" Roger said, an edge to his voice.

  "Roger, what part of I'm busy didn't you understand?" Annabeth snapped and slammed the phone back into its cradle.

  "Boyfriend?" Evan inquired, all good humor gone.

  Mark, standing next to him, was suddenly looking serious as well. As if her answer mattered to him.