by Alana Hart
I joined the line behind a large, well built man, and watched with growing despair as he proceeded to order nearly everything left in the glass cabinet. Well, almost everything. He left behind one jelly donut and a rather sad looking cream puff.
“What? The cream puff not good enough for you?” I muttered under my breath, frustrated that my sugar fix was about to be thwarted. Today just couldn’t get any worse.
“Sorry, what was that, darling?” the man drawled in a deep, husky voice. “Something about a cream puff?” he added, turning around.
He was a veritable mountain of a man, big and burly, with thick ropes of muscles bunching under his pale-blue cotton shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing corded forearms, tanned and liberally dusted with golden hair. Looking up — then up some more — I found myself captured by vivid blue eyes, the color of the Bahamian sea. Eyes that were widening in what looked like shock. A mop of golden hair topped his head, sun streaked with icy white.
He must work out a lot. I shook my head, trying to clear my daze. He must work outside a lot, I meant. I kicked myself mentally. Damn, he was hot. I licked my lips — just in case I was drooling.
“You’ve bought out the bakery…” I stuttered, my mind wrapped in a hormone-induced fog.
“You! What do you want?” he demanded, his voice suddenly clipped and bitter.
Huh? He must really like his baked goods.
“I quite fancied one of those maple pecans, but the bear claws looked good, too…” I said, trailing off as his face started to turn a funny shade of purple.
“Bear claw?” He seemed to growl the words as he towered over me, leaning closer until we were nose to nose. “I don’t know how you got here, or how you are even still around. But do you think you are being funny?” The last came out a menacing hiss.
Even turned a funny purple shade and hissing at me, he was still goddamn hot. Sexy as hell. The kind of rough and ready that made a witch want to lick and bite. To rub and…
“Craig?” The young guy behind the counter, all of sixteen, croaked nervously.
“Craig?” I repeated, loving the way the word rolled off my tongue.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know, Meridith.”
“How do you know my name?” My full name, too. It was my turn to be shocked. We hadn’t met before — I would have remembered him for sure.
“After all you did to me, you play games now?” He snorted, a derisive sound before taking a deep breath, probably to growl at me again. His eyes widened a fraction, his skin paling under his tan.
An improvement on purple, I decided, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Mentally unstable? What a waste of a good-looking man.
Out of nowhere, he twisted, pinning me against the counter, caging me with his arms. Effectively trapping me, he brushed my thick mane of hair away from my neck and gripped it in his hand, and tilting my head to the side, he exposed my neck. With a growl, he leaned forward, seeming to nuzzle at my throat, his breath hot against my sensitive skin, and the stubble on his chin scratching, tickling.
Wow. I was being mauled in the bakery. By a hot — yet obviously unstable — guy. My breathing dissolved to panting as he leaned against me, firmly fitting his body to mine. Sweet Mother! The length of him, thick and hard, dug into my stomach as he pressed me harder against the cool glass counter. A whimper escaped my throat, one of needy want.
Answering my unvoiced plea, he ground himself against me, sending shivers of pleasure skittering down my spine and sparking a throbbing deep in my core. His tongue, moist and hot, licked the side of my throat as he nibbled and bit down gently.
My hands gripped his shirt, traveling down his broad back, before coming to rest on a deliciously firm, denim-clad behind. Moaning into his ear, thoughts of where we were, who we were — scattered, gone.
Kissing his way to my mouth he stopped, pinning me with his gaze.
“You’re her…but you’re not…” he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion, and then angling his head, he brought his lips firmly down on mine. I gasped as he nipped my bottom lip, a sharp sting that he immediately laved with his tongue, before angling the kiss even deeper, his tongue seeking my own, his lips gliding against mine. Picking me up, he cupped my behind, rocking me back against the counter, his cock thrusting against my core, the friction causing my pussy to clench and throb.
“Ahem…”
We both froze. As one, our eyes slid over to the counter boy, who stood, mouth gaping, his face stained the color of overripe tomatoes.
“I don’t think…that…is allowed in here. I mean…I’m sure it isn’t…” He eyed Craig, hero-worship clear on his face. “I’m sorry, Craig — I mean, Mr. Everson.”
“Right. Well. Yeah, I think you’re probably correct, kid,” Craig murmured, slowly letting me slide back to the ground. “Don’t know what I was thinking…”
I eyed Craig, taking in the bashful look he threw the counter boy — complete with wry grin — and gave myself a shake. What had come over me? I appreciated a good-looking guy, sure. But, I didn’t usually end up making out in public with them. Getting all ‘grind and shake’ on the pastry cabinets. Not me. So why him?
I tore my eyes away. Did it really matter? I had bigger fish to fry — like my sister.
“So, can I have those bear claws?” I asked.
***
Craig
She’s asking for bear claws…when was still reeling from what had just happened?
At first, I had thought she was a ghost from the past. She was the double of the Meridith I had known so long ago. Red, fiery hair cascading around her shoulders, a cute, elfin face with a pixie nose and wide green eyes. Skin the color of cream, dotted with freckles that were clustered on her cheeks and nose.
Mother of All, I had been angry when I had first laid eyes on her. I had wanted to pin her to the wall and demand that she remove this curse. But then…her scent. Like freshly cut grass, the scent of a meadow warmed by the summer sun — my bear had demanded that he be allowed to roll in it, play with it. So we had. My hands tingled by my sides, remembering the feel of her lush curves. Fuck, I was still rock hard, and she wanted bear claws.
I was still rock hard…The thought lodged in my brain. I hadn’t gotten hard in eighty-seven years. Eighty-seven long fucking years. Alone. Who the hell was she? ‘Cause she sure as hell wasn’t Meridith from the past, no matter what she looked like or whose name she had.
“Sure, give her the bear claws, kid. Anything she wants…” I flashed this Meridith my best smile. “Want to grab a coffee? Something to wash those bear claws down with?” After a slight hesitation, she nodded, a little warily. I didn’t blame her, I had come over a bit…growly.
I continued, “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot, or something.” My mind flashed back — pinning her against the counter, her soft breasts pressing and rubbing against my chest — my cock throbbed in response. Now the thing chose to have a mind of its own.
“I’m Craig Everson, and you are—?” I held my hand out in mock politeness.
Laughter bubbled from her lips – a rich, throaty sound that delighted my bear, causing him to roll around in pleasure.
“Merrie Havencroft, pleased to meet you,” she said, shaking my hand with mock formality. “Actually, now I’ve thought about it — I have a couple of errands to run, so can we take a rain check on the coffee?”
“Brushing me off?” I joked lightly, my chest constricting at the thought.
“No! My sister is coming to visit, I totally forgot…I wonder why?” She winked at me cheekily, her lips curving in a lopsided grin.
A cold shiver ran down my spine — I had seen that grin before. How the—? What the hell was happening?
Giving my bear a nudge, we reached for where the mating bond would be — the gossamer thread that would bind us together with our true mate. It was there. Fragile, but there. My bear growled, batting a paw at it playfully. My mate!
Our mate, I sent
back, firmly. But why had the Mother of All sent me a mate who was the spitting image of the woman who had destroyed me? Only one way to find out, I decided.
“Rain check, then,” I confirmed. “How about later tonight, after your errands? We could grab something to eat at Ralph’s Steakhouse on Main Street?”
“Sounds good. Shall I meet you there? I don’t live far.” She glanced at her watch. “Shoot! I need to hustle to catch the grocers before they close! Is 8:00 p.m. okay?” Grabbing the bear claws, she dropped some change on the counter.
“Eight it is, see you then, Meridith.”
“It’s Merrie,” she called over her shoulder as she left the shop.
Merrie. My mate. The only woman in eighty-seven years that had stirred lust in me. Maybe my luck had changed?
CHAPTER TWO
Craig
Jumping out of the shower, I grabbed a towel, briskly rubbing myself dry, while my mind tried to make sense of what had happened today. It had to be a coincidence, or the Mother of All was trying to make things right. I was finally being blessed with my mate…
Our mate, my now not-so-grumpy bear reminded me.
Yes, our mate, I agreed silently, thanking the Mother that he was cheerful. Living as two souls both sharing the same body was hard work when one of you was permanently grumpy. Add to that, the fact that since the curse, I had not been a barrel of laughs, either. Lousy company, we had kept to ourselves, hunting and working. Except for family, of course. Knowing the story, they had understood my mood.
Grabbing the phone, I shoved my feet into another pair of jeans while quickly dialing my youngest brother, Ryan. No boxers of course, easier to shift with less layers.
“Hey, Craig. What’s up?” Ryan sounded distracted, but then again, he usually did. Being the Sheriff in town kept him busy from sun up ‘till sun down, and then some.
“Hey, Ryan. Everything okay?”
“Sure, sure…What can I do for you? You coming over to Mom and Dad’s tonight? Mom’s making a roast and her special blueberry pie…”
“No can do. Got plans…”
“You?” He sounded shocked. Had I turned into that much of a hermit?
“That’s what I’m ringing about. I found her.”
“Her — who? Who was missing? I don’t know anything about a missing…”
“No, you idiot. My mate. I’ve found her.” Jeez, he was hard work sometimes. Or maybe it was me? Mom was always telling me I had turned into a cranky old man. But I was only 112 years old, not even middle aged yet!
“Well, I’ll be damned.” He let out a long, low whistle. “What’s she like? Do I know her? When are you bringing her to meet us?”
“Give me a chance! We’re having our first date tonight. She’s human…”
“Human? That’ll slow things down. You gonna tell her tonight?”
Was I going to tell her tonight? I turned the question around in my mind.
Ryan broke the silence, heading straight for the heart of the matter, like he did with most things. “What about, y’know, the curse? Did it—? Did she—?”
“Yeah, everything works…”
“You sure?”
I thought of Merrie and my cock hardened immediately.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I growled, rearranging myself in my jeans and zipping them up. “Gotta go, baby bro. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Let everyone else know — she doesn’t know about us — yet.”
“Will do. Good luck! Later.”
“Later,” I mumbled, hanging up the phone.
Grabbing a clean shirt, I yanked it over my head. I had a date to keep.
***
Merrie
Smoothing my dress, I glanced at my watch. Still another five minutes to go. He was going to show. Not everyone was early for everything like me, I lectured myself. I had made a special effort, winding my hair up into what I hoped was a sleek style, spraying the curls into submission. How long it was going to last, who knew? My crimson red hair was the bane of my life. No one ever mistook me for someone else, something that had made playing pranks as a child nearly impossible. You would have thought being a witch would have meant I could do something about it, but no, our spells only worked for others. And vanity spells? So not worth it. The toll of working such a spell would be super high on the person’s soul.
Wriggling my toes, hoping to encourage the sluggish circulation being murdered by my 3” heels, I surveyed Main Street. Ralph’s Steakhouse behind me was warm and bright, busy with customers. The sound of laughter and clinking of tableware drifted out into to the otherwise quiet street. The windows had been propped open for customers to enjoy the last warmth of the summer, before autumn hit and the nights grew cooler. My mouth watered from the enticing aromas that permeated the air, and I glanced at my watch again.
“Am I late?” a voice inquired, a low rumble tinged with amusement.
My eyes flew up. “Craig! No, of course not. I’m just perpetually early, for my sins.” My eyes drank him in. He was dressed in battered, low-slung jeans with another button-up shirt tucked in, this time a dark blue. Droplets fell from his hair, darkened by the moisture, and I was pretty sure he had forgotten to comb it as strands flicked this way, and that. He looked disheveled and sexy as hell, all ‘just rolled out of the shower — why don’t we roll back in’.
“Yes, please…” The words flew out of my mouth, bypassing my brain.
“Huh? Are you okay, Merrie? You look a little…flustered,” he asked, concern creasing his face. Putting out a hand, he tapped me on the shoulder. “Earth to Merrie.”
Snapping back, I felt my cheeks grow warm. Not a great look for a redhead.
“I’m fine. Just hungry.”
Accepting the arm he held out, we walked into the busy restaurant. In dismay, I looked around. All the tables were full, and there were plenty of people standing around, waiting.
“We’re never going to get a table. I don’t suppose you booked, did you?”
“Don’t worry about it. I know someone who works here, we’ll be fine.”
Looping his arm around my waist, a touch that immediately sparked firecrackers in my belly, he smoothly directed me over to the bar area and signaled the bartender.
“What’ll you have?” he asked, snagging two stools and dragging them closer.
“Vodka and cranberry, please.”
“Two vodka and cranberries, please, Dylan,” he said to the bartender, before turning to me and gesturing for me to sit. “Never tried that, but I do like berries…”
“Coming right up, Craig. I’ll let Ralph know that you’re here,” the bartender — Dylan — said, grinning at me and throwing Craig a wink. “Glad to see you back out and about,” he finished, before moving away.
“Why? Where have you been?” I asked, puzzled by the cryptic comment. “And, how do you know Ralph?”
Craig slouched down onto the second stool and turned, so his legs enclosed mine. The denim of his jeans stretched taut against the muscular bulk of his thighs, and his shirt gaped at the hollow of his neck, revealing a dusting of blond curls.
Leaning forward to be heard over the sounds of the bar, he replied, “Nowhere. That’s the problem — I’ve been going nowhere. And Ralph’s one of my brothers.” His breath carried the fresh minty smell of toothpaste, mixing with the musky spice that I was beginning to associate with Craig.
“One of your brothers?”
“Yeah, I’ve got four. No sisters though, much to my Mom’s dismay. She’d have liked a girl, I think. Dad was happy, though.”
“What’re their names?”
“Well, there’s Ralph, of course. He’s the oldest. Then there’s me. Then Jack, then Max, and finally, Ryan — he’s the baby.” He ticked the list off on his fingers.
“Wow. That must have been hard work for your mom. Are you all close?”
“Yeah, we’re a close family. Ralph, Ryan, and me, we all still live local. But Jack and Max left not so long ago to…find work in the city.” His
eyes shuttered for a moment, lost in thought. Visibly pulling himself together, he continued, “So what about you, then? Not so many brothers? Or, at least I hope not, it could be dangerous for me.” The last was said with a wry grin.
“No, no brothers.” It’s not often a male witch is born, I mused privately. “I have one sister. Cassandra, otherwise known as Cassie. She’s the eldest. That’s who’s visiting tomorrow.”
“You’re not looking forward to her coming?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“No, not obvious at all. I just…I just feel in tune with you. Like I can feel what you’re feeling. And that sounds like the biggest line in history…”
“What sounds like the biggest line in history? I hope you’re treating this lovely lady with respect, bro.” A large hand clasped Craig’s shoulder while the other cuffed him affectionately around the head.
“Give up, Ralph,” Craig said, his voice gruff. “Merrie, this is Ralph. Ralph, Merrie.”
“Aren’t you the lady who owns the little gift shop at the end of Main? What’s it called, again?” Ralph asked, his brow furrowed in thought. He was a handsome man, nearly as good looking as Craig, but where Craig was blonde and golden, Ralph was dark and bronzed. Both were well built, though. Strapping, gorgeous men must run in the family. I wonder what the other brothers look like — must be quite the sight at summer barbeque’s.
Clearing my throat, I answered, “Magical Gifts.”
“Yeah, that’s the one. Get a lot of tourists, I would imagine.”
I glanced at Craig who had fallen silent during the exchange. He seemed frozen, his expression closed-off as he stared at me.
“Merrie? Craig?” Ralph’s voice pulled me from Craig’s stare. “I said, are you two okay to eat at the bar? We’re pretty packed tonight, but I can hustle you up some good steaks and a nice bottle of wine.” He shot Craig a concerned look. “You okay, bro?”
