Shift Out of Luck (Bear Bites Book 1)

by Dixon, Ruby

  Shift Out of Luck

  Ruby Dixon

  Contents

  SHIFT OUT OF LUCK

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  DOES A BEAR SHIFT IN THE WOODS

  GET YOUR SHIFT TOGETHER

  SHIFT OUT OF LUCK

  SHIFT JUST GOT REAL

  ICE PLANET BARBARIANS (Georgie’s Story)

  BARBARIAN ALIEN (Liz’s Story)

  BARBARIAN LOVER (Kira’s Story)

  RIDING RED by ALEXA RILEY

  BEAUTY SLEEPS by ALEXA RILEY

  WANT MORE?

  Also by Ruby Dixon

  SHIFT OUT OF LUCK

  There are few things that are off limits to the were-bears of Pine Falls, but humans are one of them. Which is a real pain, because I’ve had it bad for curvy Adelaide Laurent ever since she sashayed into town. The fact that she’s forbidden fruit just makes my fantasies all the sweeter.

  But when she signs up to go on a weekend camping trip with the town’s biggest player, it’s time for a bear to step in and claim his mate.

  I don’t care if it breaks the rules. She’s mine, and it’s time she knew it.

  1

  Cole

  “You ever going to do anything about that or just stand here and howl at the moon like a dumbass wolf?”

  Leo Prufuchs doesn’t need a reply so I don’t bother giving him one. That requires me diverting my attention away from the lush figure across the street, making her way into her shop to start the day. Some bears drink coffee in the morning. Some do shots of Red Bull to wake them up. Me? I stand just inside my trading post and watch Adelaide Laurent climb out of her shoebox of a car and unlock the door to her spa—the one the locals said wouldn’t last a month. Yet three years later, she’s still here. Still thriving. Still making my balls bluer than the Boundary Waters.

  Beside me, Leo shakes his head in dismay. “You’re a disgrace to the clan, boy.” He claps me on the shoulder, and the blow is hard enough that it rattles my teeth.

  If he’d done the same to a human, bones would be broken, which is exactly why I’ve been standing in my store every morning for the last three years watching Adelaide, instead of bringing her to work after we’d had a good early-morning love-making session.

  Adelaide’s a curvy girl with plenty of meat on her bones, but she’s still a human and way too frail for a beast like me. Even in my unshifted human form, I’m about twice her size. I’m big all over, and there are very few human women who’ve ever been able to take me comfortably. Adelaide’s just not one of them.

  The problem is that I can’t get hard for anyone but her. Since she swayed that sweet ass of hers into the town meeting three years ago announcing her development plans, my dick only rises to full attention when she’s around.

  At first, it was just healthy masculine appreciation. She looks like a fifties pinup model with her red lips and blonde hair with its big curls. My mouth waters just thinking about what one of her fat nipples would taste like. From head to toe, she’s a hot package.

  Any red-blooded bear would get excited when she waltzed by. But as time wore on, my appreciation turned to lust, which has turned into an obsession. And now, no one interests me but her, which is too damned bad.

  The door to the spa slams shut behind her, and I finally turn away.

  “I’m worried about you, brother.” Leo follows me to the checkout counter, and watches over the top of his coffee mug while I double check the starting cash in the register drawer. “Have you gotten laid at all this past month? Those girls over in Vancouver were all over you last weekend, but we might as well have been at a little league tournament for all the excitement you were showing.”

  “They were jailbait,” I reply abruptly.

  “Sixteen is the age of consent,” Leo argues. “Besides, they were at least eighteen, and I slept with two of them so they were the equivalent of one cougar.”

  “You’re twenty-eight,” I reply dryly. “I don’t think sleeping with eighteen-year olds, even two of them, makes the girls cougars.”

  “They howled and scratched the shit out of me, so they acted like some kind of animals.” He reaches one massive hand over his shoulder to rub his phantom scratches. Leo acts more like a cub than the fully matured bear he is. “And bonus, they both walked away in one piece the next morning. True, they were walking funny because I’m so thoroughly amazing in bed, but the only thing they were worried about was when I was coming back to town.”

  “Those females were part of the Vancouver South clan,” I remind him. “They were not human.”

  “You gotta put that shit with Lowery out of your mind. That was an anomaly. There’ve been plenty of human and bear matings.”

  “Name one,” I challenge.

  Leo opens his mouth and closes it. Then tries again. Finally, he says, “There’s Grace and Scott Barnes.”

  “Scott’s the human, not Grace. I’m not getting in bed with a human, no matter how beautiful she is.”

  Leo tugs on his ear, and then drains his coffee. “If you can live with her shacking up with another guy, then by all means, just stare out the window.”

  I slam the drawer shut harder than necessary and the resulting clang makes Leo jump.

  “Guess that answers that,” he mutters.

  It’s a good thing the cash register is made out of industrial steel. Otherwise, I’d have broken it. The thought of another man between Adelaide’s plump thighs makes me want to rip the machine off the wooden counter and drive it through Leo’s shaggy blond head. I remove my hands from the heavy metal register, and take a couple of deep breaths. “Don’t you have somewhere to go?” I ask as evenly as possible. Leo’s my cousin, and I know my mom would take issue if I dragged his ass home, bloodied and maimed.

  “Not really.” He wanders into the back room to deposit the coffee mug. “I’m helping out Eli with a new corporate tour group this week, but I won’t be required to go over until tonight.”

  I run a finger down the list of incoming tourists. There are three groups arriving today. In the winter, Pine Falls, Minnesota, serves up dog sledding, cross-country skiing, winter hiking, and visits to the brown bear and wolf rescue centers. In the summer, we have a non-stop flood of outdoor enthusiasts who canoe and kayak on the glass-clear lakes of the Boundary Waters.

  Eli’s is not the only corporate camping retreat in the town, but it’s the best because his guides know the backwoods better than anyone, unlike Pat Samson who apparently has a tour booked for the next three days.

  I shake my head. How that fucker stays in business, I have no idea. He couldn’t lead a group of Pine Falls natives down the main street without someone injuring themselves.

  “I see Pat Samson has a group coming in.” I whip my sheet around to show Leo.

  He frowns. “That guy’s going to kill someone one of these days.”

  “Let Eli know. Maybe he can send another guide out to keep watch over the Samson group.”

  The bell over the door chimes, letting us know we have a customer. I check my watch. It’s not even eight.

  “We’re not open,” I start to call out, but the words stick in my throat when I see who it is.

  “I know you’re not open,” Adelaide calls out cheerfully. “But I was hoping you could help me out.”

  “Tell her you can help her out of her clothes,” Leo mutters under his breath.

  Ignoring Leo, I step into the main room. “Sure. What can I do for you?”

&n
bsp; I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans so I don’t reach out and grab Adelaide. She looks like a fresh peach this morning. Her perfect skin glows like she’s lit from inside.

  She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and the Boundary Waters is full of beautiful things. Nature at its finest: pure and untouched wilderness, wild animals, water so clear and clean that you can see to the sandy bottom no matter how deep the pool. But none of it compares to Adelaide.

  I eat her up with my eyes—the only action I allow myself. Watching her is fine. Touching her is not.

  “You know I hired the Miller girl to help me out on the weekends, right?”

  I nod. There’s little about Adelaide I don’t know. She likes strong coffee in the mornings, and doesn’t mind that I prefer tea with lots of honey. She has a good work ethic. Her spa is open six days a week, and up until about six months ago, she was there every day. But she hired Dean Miller’s daughter and has reduced her hours to just five days a week. Mondays are the worst for me because I don’t see Adelaide at all.

  “Well, um, I’ve decided to finally go camping. I think I must be the only one in Pine Falls to have not done the camping thing.” She claps her hands together, and the two rings she wears glitter under the lights.

  When Adelaide first arrived in town wearing those rings, I thought she was taken, but I learned that they were just pretty things she liked to wear.

  I kind of wish she was taken. Maybe I wouldn’t be so goddamned obsessed with her.

  “That’s good,” I finally say when I realize she’s waiting for me to respond. “You going with Francine?”

  Francine owns the coffee shop and runs some kind of girl-power business organization in town. No men allowed. Only women who have a business or are interested in owning a business.

  “No. I’m going with Pat Samson.”

  “You’re what?” I roar. My Adelaide out with Pat Samson?

  Behind me, I hear Leo snorting.

  Adelaide blinks at my outburst. “Do you have a problem with Pat Samson or is it just me in general?”

  “Why would I have a problem with you?” I growl. “Pat Samson is a shitty-ass guide. If it was winter, I wouldn’t let you go. He’d kill you out there.”

  “You wouldn’t let me?” She puts her hands on her hips, and my eyes drop to the nipped-in waist. My hands could span that distance easily. “Since when do you decide when and where and with whom I can camp?”

  “I’m so glad I came in this morning,” Leo murmurs with glee.

  I tear my eyes away from her ample hips and flick upward to see her glaring at me. Even that turns me on. And frankly I don’t care if she’s mad. I’d rather have her mad at me than out with Pat Samson, who uses his camping trips to fuck lonely women while exposing them to a multitude of dangers.

  “I wouldn’t let my worst enemy go on a trip with Samson.” I stomp over to the checkout counter and slam my ass down on the stool.

  “Dumbass,” Leo coughs into his hand.

  “I’m your worst enemy? Is that what you’re saying?” Adelaide’s blue eyes are firing daggers at me.

  “What are you talking about, woman? I never said you were my worst enemy.” I fold my arms across my chest and glare back.

  “Fine. Whatever.” She throws up her hands. “Are you going to help me get the appropriate gear or not?”

  “No. Samson isn’t safe, and I’m not going to help him take you out into the woods where you could be injured or worse.” The thought of her out with Samson makes me sick to my stomach.

  She stalks over to the counter and slaps her palms on the polished wood surface. When she leans forward, the fabric around her soft tits gapes and gives me an eyeful of lush flesh. Before I’m able to force myself to look away, the vision of her perfect tits is burned into my brain. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go and I won’t.”

  The animal in me lurks just under the skin, and right now it’s clawing at the surface, wanting out. It takes everything I’ve got not to toss her right onto the counter, whip her skirt up, and pound into her in front of Leo and any other goddamned person who could walk through the door. “You don’t belong out there,” I say abruptly.

  “You’re a jerk, Cole Braxton. A good-looking guy but a real jerk.” She twirls on her dainty foot and stomps out.

  When the door shuts behind her, I release a sigh full of relief and regret. I miss her already, but she’s just too much temptation to be around on a regular basis.

  “Dude, she wants you. She practically laid herself out on a platter and you turned her down,” Leo says with disgust.

  “I’m not going to hurt her.”

  “But you’ll let her go with Samson?”

  I can’t let that happen either.

  2

  Adelaide

  Who does Cole Braxton think he is, anyhow?

  I storm back to Pamper Yourself without a single bit of camping equipment, my list crumpled in my fist. So much for finding an excuse to flirt with Cole. I might as well give up. It’s like flirting with a stump. A really pissy stump.

  I reenter my spa and grit my teeth as I move behind the counter to flip on the small indoor waterfall next to the front desk. I turn on the Celtic music CD and straighten magazines in the waiting room. It takes a moment before my crappy mood settles down, and even Enya’s soothing harp sounds can’t make my temper go away.

  I don’t know why I bother. I’ve been in Pine Falls three years, and my business is thriving even though everyone seems to laugh at me. Everyone here is all about hiking and camping and dog sledding and all kinds of crazy macho outdoor vacation things. Naturally, that struck me as the perfect spot to set up a spa. You know, the ‘mom’ getaway. Dad gets to go hunt bear or track wolves or whatever it is they do. Mom gets pampered at the spa. Everyone has a happy vacation.

  It’s worked out beautifully too. In the off-season, I get just enough business from the locals who want mani-pedi jobs. In the tourist season, I’m booked solid. You’d think that would get me some respect around here from the other business owners.

  Nope. Cole, in particular, looks at me as if he wants to squash me like a bug. He always glares disapprovingly. I smooth my hands down my flouncy, flirty skirt. I should give up trying to crack him. Maybe he doesn’t like blondes. Maybe he only goes for waifs. I’m more on the pleasant side of plump.

  But the thought of going after another guy makes me cringe inside. It’s not that there’s not a lot of hot guys around here. The town’s crawling with them, and they’re all ridiculously athletic. There’s something about Cole, though, that drives me crazy. Maybe it’s because his camping supply store is right across from my spa, and I get to see him on the street every day. We run into each other grabbing morning coffees. I send customers his way, and he sends them mine. Every time I turn around, Cole’s there, firing up my libido with his big, brawny arms and that fall of messy dark hair that does ridiculous things to my ovaries.

  I mean, if a girl’s going to dream about giving up her virginity, she might as well pick a prime specimen, right?

  But after three years of flirting at the local coffee shop, wearing low-cut shirts as I give him the mail that makes its way into my spa’s mailbox, and wearing tight skirts, nothing’s working.

  Then, a few days ago, Pat Samson suggested I join his next nature hike crew. It’ll be three days of roughing it in the wild. I thought it’d be a good thing to show Cole that I’m tougher than he thinks I am. That under my candy-colored lip gloss and pink nails, I’m a tough, capable chick who can handle any testosterone thrown at her. That I’d be good girlfriend potential.

  And heck, it was an excuse to go to his store and lean on the counter with my boobs practically hanging out.

  What did the man do? Called me an idiot and ran me out.

  I officially give up. My crush on Cole is getting me nowhere. Time to throw in the towel and move on. Maybe I’ll meet someone hot while camping.

  Maybe I’ll just go home and gi
ve my bullet vibe a good round and daydream about Cole.

  I pull out my day planner and scan the list of appointments I have today. When I look up, Leo’s heading across the street to my spa.

  I straighten and fluff my hair, just in case Cole sent him over. Then I pretend to be super busy, staring down at my planner and making notes as if things need tweaking.

  The door chimes as it opens, and I look up with a smile. “Hey, Leo. What brings you here?”

  Leo grins at me, all white teeth and tanned skin. I wish I was attracted to him instead of fixated on grumpy Cole. Leo’s easygoing and friendly. “I think we both know I’m here to apologize for Cole.”

  I sniff. “What, he’s not adult enough to put on his big-boy pants and apologize to me in person?”

  Leo shrugs. “That’s not it. He just gets a bit…worked up around you.”

  Yeah. Worked up like pissed off. How dare I paint my nails in their testosterone-laden resort town? “He’s just a jerk. I go out of my way to be nice to him and he talks to me like I’m stupid.”

  Leo shakes his head and sits in one of the pink, girly seats in my waiting room. He picks up a women’s magazine and his brow wrinkles as he gazes at the pictures. “Nah,” he says, not looking up from the mag. “You just hit a nerve with that Pat stuff.”

  “What’s wrong with Pat?”

  “Pat’s a dumbass.”

  Really? We were back to this again? “Pat Samson is a very nice man. He told me he saved a spot on his next camping trip just for me.”

  “I’ll bet he did,” Leo mutters.

  I pull out a tray of nail polishes and begin checking the bottles for dried-up paint. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothin’,” Leo drawls, and flips the magazine sideways, then tosses it aside. “He just don’t like the thought of you camping with Pat.”

  “Pat offered!”

  “And Cole doesn’t like that.”

  Exasperated, I slam a bottle of gunmetal gray down harder than I should. “Oh, good lord. Why doesn’t the man just pee on my leg and mark me as his territory?”