by Avery Flynn
And that guy cared about January above everyone else.
“Yeah,” Kellan said, but Finn’s feet were already in motion, carrying him to the exit as fast as he could force them to go.
“Good. Just do me a solid and don’t let her leave.”
Although he didn’t think it was possible, Finn ran even faster.
After the tenth time January tried—and failed—to read the incident report in front of her, she threw in the towel. She shouldn’t even be here, she knew, but staying in her condo had driven her crazy. Everywhere she looked, there were memories of Finn—the side of the couch where he sat when they marathoned scary movies, the leftover chili they’d shared earlier that week still sitting in her fridge; hell, even the bar of soap he’d left in his haste to get out of her life still sat in her shower, mocking her with the reminder of its woodsy Finn-like smell. So January had done what any self-respecting, freshly dumped girl would do. She’d thrown on a pair of jeans and thrown herself into work.
God, she was hopeless.
Doing her best to ignore the quaver in her chest that meant tears weren’t far behind, she forced herself to pick up the incident report for round eleven. Finn had gotten what he’d wanted. He’d left, and he wasn’t coming back. Really, she needed to get on with her life.
Even if what she had wanted the most was for him to want her.
“Hey, J. You got a sec?” Kellan poked his head in from the hallway, and January worked up a tiny smile even though the gesture took all of her effort.
“Sure. What’s up? Do you guys need more task rotation sheets? I printed some up—”
“No, we’re good,” he said, stopping her mid-reach. “Actually, I was wondering if you could come take a look at something in the common room for me.”
“Oh.” Her brows tugged down in concern. “Is everything okay?”
“I think so, but why don’t you come tell me?”
January stood, a full dose of what-the-hell-are-you-up-to pinging through her veins. But the sensation pitched to its highest setting when they got to the common room, and every single firefighter and paramedic on A-shift, including Captain Bridges, was standing in the room.
With Finn right in the middle of them.
“What…what the hell are you doing here?” she blurted, barely getting the words past her lips, and Finn broke into a crooked smile.
“Since you really like to ask me that question, I guess I should probably answer it the right way this time. I’m here because I screwed up. I’m here because I need to make things right between us. But mostly, I’m here for you, January.”
Oh…God. “You said…this morning on the phone with your agent, you said—”
“I know what I said, and I was wrong.” A pained look flickered through Finn’s stare, but his eyes never budged from hers. “A lot of what you overheard was out of context. Still, I didn’t try hard enough to explain it to you, and I want to do that now, in front of everyone in this room. My agent jumped to a lot of conclusions, but I’ve set him straight. I participated in the RFD fundraiser for one reason and one reason only, and that reason is you.”
January’s eyes widened in total shock. “Me,” she said slowly.
“You,” Finn agreed. “You let me back into your life even though I’d hurt you, and you reminded me what it’s like to really belong somewhere. And even though I thought that was in New Orleans, now I know it’s not. It’s here in Remington, with you. I can’t promise that things will always be easy, but I can promise you this. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll never leave again.”
So many emotions filled her brain that for a second, she couldn’t even think, let alone breathe or speak. But only one mattered, and it was the one she knew above all the others.
“It’s a good thing you want to stick around, because easy or not, I never want to let you go.”
January moved toward him at the same time he rushed forward to pull her close, and the room erupted into loud cheers and applause. After a minute or two, the firefighters smartly wandered off to give her and Finn a little privacy, and she pulled back to look at him with a grin.
“That was a pretty bold move you made.”
“Not as bold as the deal I signed with the Rogues about twenty minutes ago,” he said. “But Remington is where I belong, and I have you to thank for showing me the way. I love you, Calendar Girl.”
January pressed up to her tiptoes to kiss him, and in that moment, she knew just where she belonged.
“I love you, too, Finnegan. I’m glad you’re home.”
About the Author
Kimberly Kincaid writes contemporary romance that splits the difference between sexy and sweet and hot and edgy romantic suspense. When she’s not sitting cross-legged in an ancient desk chair known as “The Pleather Bomber”, she can be found practicing obscene amounts of yoga, whipping up anything from enchiladas to éclairs in her kitchen, or curled up with her nose in a book. Kimberly is a USA Today best-selling author and a 2016 and 2015 RWA RITA® finalist and 2014 Bookseller’s Best nominee who lives (and writes!) by the mantra that food is love. Kimberly resides in Virginia with her wildly patient husband and their three daughters.
Be sure to keep in touch with Kimberly on her newsletter, where you can find exclusive excerpts, cover reveals, contests, and other giveaways!
Also by Kimberly Kincaid
Want to check out the hot firefighters at Station Seventeen, along with Kimberly’s other books?
DEEP TROUBLE (Station Seventeen prequel, as part of Liliana Hart’s MacKenzie family)
SKIN DEEP (Station Seventeen book one)
Cross Creek Series, from Montlake
CROSSING HEARTS (book one)
The Line Series
LOVE ON THE LINE (book one)
DRAWING THE LINE (book two)
OUTSIDE THE LINES (book three)
PUSHING THE LINE (book four)
Or get all four books in a reduced price bundle.
Bear Naked
by
Katie Kenyhercz
Copyright © 2017 by Katie Kenyhercz.
All rights reserved.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Glossary
Mi’kmaq Glossary of Terms
Gijú: (ghee-ju) Mom or mother
Niskamij: (nisk-a-much) Grandfather
Nukumi: (nu-goo-mi) Grandmother
Mui’n: (moo-een) Bear
Mimiges: (me-me-guess) Butterfly
Sg’te’gmuj: (es-ka-day-ga-much) Ghost
Luski: (loo-ski) Mi’kmaq bread baked over a fire
Seggw: (seh-k) Sweet
Gwitjíj: (gwit-cheech) Son
Ta-ta’t: (ta-tah-t) Dad, father
1
Nothing changed. That couldn’t be true, of course, but that’s how Bear Thompson felt driving past the wooden sign that read Welcome to Bear Mountain Reserve. How long had it been? Jesus, nine years. Impossible but true. Nine years had passed since he’d been drafted to play hockey at the highest level, and he hadn’t been home since. That’s why it was eerie driving down the main, dirt road, seeing the homes and buildings preserved as if time had stood still. Maybe the paint was a little more faded and chipped, but damn, it was like rolling through a memory in slow motion.
His shiny, black SUV stood out from the dusty, decades-old vehicles parked near the modest houses, and a spark of shame flickered in his chest. All of his success, and he hadn’t done anything for the community that raised him. Well, that was about to change. Maybe. If he could convince the chief. Problem was, s
he hated his guts. Aria. He could see her as clearly as the day he left. Smooth caramel skin, silky, black hair flowing down her back, deep, dark eyes that gave away the heartbreak she was trying to hide. Those eyes had haunted him ever since. It was time to make his absence up to everyone he loved, and she was at the top of that list. But he wasn’t ready yet.
First things first. He turned down a side street and pulled in front of the duplex where he’d grown up. Two cars already parked in front. As soon as he opened his door, his mother and father rushed out of the house and enveloped him. He might have become a man in his time away, but just like that he was ten years old again, surrounded by familial protection and love. For about one minute.
“The prodigal son has returned.” His sister stood on the front steps, arms crossed. It was hard for her to look intimidating because even at twenty-five, she had the little girl charm that’d gotten her out of trouble countless times when they were kids. To his eyes, she was still a seven year-old tomboy, though instead of the denim shorts and raglan shirts, she now wore a pantsuit and heels. All grown up. When did that happen? Her ire was only partly real because the hint of a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.
“Jesse.”
“Sg’te’gmuj.”
Ghost. Ouch. “Well, I’m back in the flesh.”
She hesitated another second, then her smile broke free, and she ran over to hug him, too. He’d flown his family out a few times to New Orleans to see him play and show them the city that’d adopted him after a few years playing for Toronto, but they hadn’t been much for the party culture or sweltering heat and humidity. Having spent their whole lives in Nova Scotia on the reserve, it’d been a shock. Even Jesse, who’d gone away to university on a scholarship, hadn’t been a fan of the racy nightlife. They’d cheered for him while he was on the ice, but he’d heard, “When are you coming home?” at least three times each trip.
When she leaned back, Jesse swatted his arm. “So how long are you here for?”
His mother perked up at that. “Yes, how long can we keep you?”
First day and he was already about to break her heart again. “Just for the summer, Giju’. Pre-season starts in September.” Besides, summers were near unbearable in the south.
She wilted a little but maintained her smile and patted his back. “Why don’t you settle into your room and see Nukumi and Niskamij? They’ll be so happy.”
His grandparents had lived in the home above his all his life, but as they got older, his parents and Jesse had switched so Nukumi and Niskamij hadn’t had to go up and down the stairs. “Sure. How is he?”
Her expression wavered, and his father’s face shut down. The tenderness and pity in her eyes almost brought tears to his. “He’s preparing himself. Talk to him. It’ll help you prepare, too.”
A heavy weight settled in his chest, and he nodded, collecting his suitcases from the SUV and taking the outside staircase to the second floor of the duplex. Niskamij’s health had been declining for years, and the inevitable had been looming but distant enough on the horizon that pushing it out of mind hadn’t been hard. Death wasn’t something his people feared. It was a natural part of life. It freed the spirit and allowed the body to return to the Earth. All things to be celebrated.
That didn’t make it any easier when he walked into his grandfather’s room and saw the man he’d once believed to be ten feet tall tucked into a Hospice bed, barely able to lift his head. Nukumi appeared at Bear’s side, hugged his arm, then urged him forward and left them alone. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took the chair angled toward the bed. When he tucked his fingers into his grandfather’s warm, dry palm, the man squeezed back but faintly.
“Mui’n.” The Mi’kmaq word for bear and what Niskamij had always called him.
“I’m here. How are you?”
A small smile creased his grandfather’s mouth, though he still didn’t open his eyes. “Ready.”
The answer, though delivered in a content, firm voice without regret or fear, hit Bear in the gut like a hard check he hadn’t been prepared for. Nine years removed from this life, he wasn’t ready to lose the man who’d taught him to hunt and track and respect every life for what it was: precious.
“Mui’n. You worry for having been away. Don’t. We are all proud of you. You may have done more for Bear Mountain than anyone who’s lived here in a long time.”
There was a soft knock on the door, and then it opened. “Niskamij, I brought luski…”
The old man smiled bigger. “Well, almost anyone. Come in, Mimiges.” Butterfly. Aria. His grandfather had always called her that. He’d said she’d transform one day and surprise everyone.
Bear turned and found out just how true that was. She’d been beautiful as a girl. As a woman, she stole his breath and froze him to the spot. His body flooded with a rush of adrenaline, his heart racing and palms going slick. Part of it was how incredible she managed to look in faded jeans and a red plaid, button down shirt. The other part was pure guilt for breaking things off the way he did. Breaking his promises. Breaking her heart.
She stared back at him, just as frozen, until she blinked and licked her full lips. “Bear. Your mother said you’d be upstairs.” Translation: had she known he were there, she wouldn’t have come.
I deserve that. “I was. I just came down to—”
“To talk to a sick, old man. He didn’t know about our weekly date.” Niskamij’s eyes were half-open now and crinkled at the corners. He’d visibly brightened as soon as Aria walked in, and it probably had little to do with the fresh quick bread she’d brought, though it did smell amazing. The woman was a walking beacon of warmth and light, and that was even taking into account the cold shoulder she’d aimed Bear’s way.
“Date? Does Nukumi know?”
“Ah.” His grandfather lifted a hand an inch off the bed and waved it off. “Your grandmother is just happy I’ll eat something. All I’ve seemed to want is Mimiges’ luski. She puts—”
“Sugar in it. I remember.” Bear met her eyes, and something flashed in them. Nostalgia? Regret? It was hard to tell.
She directed her gaze to Niskamij and set the small basket on the tray attached to his bed. “I brought butter and honey, too. Thought you might like a change from the jam.” As she spoke, she sliced up a serving and slathered it good then held it up for him to take a bite. He chewed slowly and let his eyes close again, but the smile never left. She watched him with tangible tenderness, like he was her own grandfather. In a way, he was. Niskamij had taught her to fish alongside Bear. Had been a confidant and teacher to them both. And Aria had never left.
Bear knew better than to ask for a piece of luski. Maybe if there were any remaining after she left. That was a big maybe because his grandfather was on his way to eating the whole loaf. Good. He needed it. The nourishment would add to the time he had left. After two pieces, Aria filled a glass with water and helped Niskamij drink. A weekly date. She was an angel. And Bear felt like the devil.
“I’ll leave the rest in case you’re hungry later. I’ll see you next week, but let Nukumi know if there’s something you want in the mean time. I’m always happy to bake for you.”
“Thank you, dear one. Mui’n. Why don’t you walk Mimiges out? You and I can talk later. I need to close my eyes for a bit.”
It wasn’t an order, but it might as well have been. Declining wasn’t an option, and Niskamij knew it. Posture tight, lips pressed into a firm line, Aria looked on the verge of refusing but must have realized that wouldn’t fly either. Smooth, his grandfather. Just as well. Bear had a short time to convince the ex-love of his life to grant him a complicated favor that would go against her grain. As big as her heart was, there might not be room in it for what he needed to ask. He stood and pressed a kiss to his grandfather’s forehead. “I’ll check in before I go to bed. If you’re sleeping, I’ll come back in the morning.”
Niskamij nodded, waved them off, then settled back with his eyes closed once more. It was h
ard leaving knowing that any moment could be his grandfather’s last, but Bear followed Aria out of the room. Nukumi passed them on her way in, pinching Bear’s cheek as she went, and his heart contracted. I should have been here. They all had been more than supportive of his hockey career, but family and community were very important in their culture. As much as he’d made them proud, it was hard not to feel like he’d also let them down. He’d definitely let one person down.
Aria walked straight out of the ground level home, without a backward glance. He jogged to catch up until he fell into step beside her. “Hey. Can we talk?”
She didn’t even slow down as she turned onto the dusty road, heading for the house she’d grown up in. “I’m sorry. There’s a council meeting tomorrow night, and I have to prepare.”
“I’m sorry.”
This time she did stop, so fast that he went forward a couple paces without her. When he faced her, she was stock still, expression as blank as one of the wooden grizzly carvings at the entrance to the reserve. And about as friendly. If she were weighing the pros and cons of killing him with her bare hands, the cons must have won out because she said, “It’s fine.”
He’d learned a lot in his time away, and one of the lessons he’d picked up from the several women who hadn’t been able to measure up to the one currently glaring at him was that fine was never fine. “It’s not. I handled things badly. I never meant for it to happen, Aria. Please believe that. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you.”
“It was a long time ago. It’s in the past.” That didn’t mean she’d forgiven him. In fact, she looked like she was waiting for the right opportunity to bolt.
