Bucking Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Western Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 5)

by Becca Fanning

  She only faltered for a half a step before regaining her composure, making it to her car in near record time. She tossed her purse into the passenger seat and turned the car on. It purred to life, comfort returning to her. She spent long hours in her car, driving to different court rooms, clients, and everywhere in between. Her car was a bastion of safety. Somewhere she was in complete control. Still, her hands were shaking.

  A cup of old coffee sat in the center console. She reached down, taking a big swig of the cold liquid. Gah! She almost spit it up but managed to gulp it down. Beth placed her hands on the wheel to stop her shaking. She was going to take a few days off work, hide out from that terrible man, and stay safe. She buckled up, turned on the lights and windshield wipers, and slowly pulled out of the parking lot.

  She kept an eye on her rear-view mirror. The truck stayed put at first, but as she watched, it slowly pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the road behind her. She took the next right, hoping to lose him in the flow of traffic. Halfway down the next block, she saw the battered truck tailing her.

  “Who are you? Why are you following me?” she muttered under her breath, eyes nervously checking his progress. She thought she could ditch him once she got out of the city. The interstate wasn't the only way back home and she intended to take every little back road she could think of. She pressed her foot on the gas a bit more and tried to leave him in her rear-view mirror.

  By the time Beth pulled up into the driveway of her old house, she hadn't seen the truck for well over four hours. As she had suspected, once she left the city and turned down a few lesser known highways, she had lost him. She had perhaps driven a bit too fast for what could be considered safe, especially in the rainstorm, but it had worked.

  The lights were off, of course. She could see the mailbox, stuffed to the brim with soggy mail, hanging half off its hinges by the front door. The lawn was a bit unkempt and a couple of tree branches had fallen in the storm, but everything else looked to be in good order. Still, she didn't turn off the car and head in immediately. Instead, she sat in silence, radio off, listening to the rain drops ping off the roof of the car. I haven't been home since Dad passed away, she thought. It was true. Her father had been dead for nearly a year now. She'd meant to sell the house, more to get rid of the memories than to make any money. She steeled herself. Thinking wasn't going to get her anywhere.

  Beth opened the door, sprinting out into the rain. It wasn't as bad as it had been in the city, but it was still coming down pretty good. She fumbled with her keys, unsure of which one opened the house. It took her a few failed tries before she found the correct one, throwing herself past the ruined mail and into the darkness of her old house.

  She reached up, hand immediately finding the light switch to the foyer. Light immediately flooded the room, a sharp contrast to the darkness outside. She dried her feet on the door mat before kicking off her wet boots, something her father had always insisted on. She looked up the staircase, covered in perfectly white carpet. She still remembered the time when she'd came in after playing in a puddle of mud, running straight up those stairs. Her father had nearly lost his mind.

  Beth walked slowly through her home. She had hired a housekeeper to come in once a week and keep the place tidied up. On her way here, she'd called her and told her that she wouldn't need her for the next few weeks. On the phone, the housekeeper had been hysterical until Beth had assured her she would still get paid. After that, the housekeeper was ecstatic. I wonder why, Beth thought.

  Everything was almost exactly how she remembered it. Familiar pictures still hung on the wall. The old bird feeder still hung from a branch in the back yard. Her dad's old record player sat silently, one of his favorite records still inside of it. She considered turning it on, but moved on instead. After she had done a tour of the house, Beth realized she was still soaked to the bone. She knew that she should still have some old clothes up in her room and headed for the stairs, making sure the doors and windows were locked tight.

  Beth slowly went up the stairs to her room, taking her time to soak in all of the memories. She found some old, worn clothes in her dresser, grabbed a towel, and headed for the shower. She was in no rush and stayed under the hot spray until she was pruned and the hot water started to run out. Clean, she grabbed her towel and headed into her room. She wondered why she never had come back before this. Despite everything that she'd went through with her father passing, the memories were still good. Warm. Comforting.

  She grabbed an extra towel, wrapping her hair up in it and wrapping the other around her body. She headed downstairs. Rain was still falling, but it had none of the fury from before. A sudden feeling struck her and Beth moved to the old record player, placing the needle on the record and turning it on. The record scratched, caught in the groove, and music flooded the air. The song had never been her favorite, but her father loved it, so it was enough.

  Her worries washed away as the song picked up. With a twirl on the hardwood floor, Beth was dancing. She'd always wanted to be a dancer, until she had wanted to be a lawyer. She swung her head, the towel flying off and her hair flowing out into the air. She took a couple of steps forward, loving the freedom. Another spin and her towel was on the ground, but she hardly noticed. She was lost in the thrall of the music. She ran her hands over her body, from her hips, to her breasts, then up into the air at the sky. She sang along with the beat, eyes closed, and let the music move her.

  The record scratched and the song cut off, immediately killing her groove. She turned the record player off, then moved to grab her towel, and froze. Someone was at the window! Thoughts flashed through her mind within a split second: How long has he been there? Did he see me naked? Dancing naked?! Of course he saw. Oh my God!

  Face burning red, Beth yelped and tried to cover herself as best she could as she reached for a towel. She moved forward, bending down to grab it – and slipped on the other towel. With another yelp, this one in alarm instead of embarrassment, Beth went down. In slow motion, she watched the man outside recoil from the fall she was having. His eyes went wide – eyes of a deep, golden hue? – and Beth's head struck the edge of the old coffee table, and everything went black.

  With a jump, Beth awoke. Her head throbbed. In a few seconds, she realized she was in her bed, underneath her covers. And she was naked! She laid in silence for a couple of moments, trying to work out how she had got from the living room up to her room without remembering. The last thing she remembered was the record skipping, going to fix it, and… The man at the window!

  Her heart started thumping in her chest. She tried listening for him over the sound of her heart. A thought formed in her mind. What if he brought me up here? She gave a nervous laugh. She had locked the door, including the deadbolt. No one was coming through that door.

  She slowly got up, testing her body. Everything felt fine except for her head. She went to the bathroom, pulling on her clothes as fast as she could manage. When she was dressed, she moved in front of the mirror to look at her head. There was a bandage over where she had hit the coffee table. I don't remember doing that, she thought.

  At that moment, she heard footsteps coming up the staircase. He was inside! She looked around for anything to use as a weapon. Beth settled on one of her old razor blades. If she aimed for the throat, maybe…

  She rushed out of the bathroom with a battle cry, holding her hand up high, aiming for the man's neck. He came around the corner, eyes wide again, and yelled in alarm. In a flurry of movement, Beth swung. The man moved backwards, his feet catching on the carpet, and he went down. His massive body hit the wall, leaving an impression of where he had initially impacted. He slowly slid down, plaster falling into his thick mane of hair.

  “You broke into the wrong house, pervert!” Beth screamed. She froze for a split second, then leapt into action again. She was on him instantly, the razor arcing out towards him. With speed that she would never have expected from a man his size, he grabbed her wrist. His grip
was firm, yet surprisingly gentle. Beth swung with her other hand, striking him hard in the side of the face. He grimaced and grabbed her other hand.

  “I'm not here to hurt you,” was all he said. His voice was rough, like rocks along the bottom of a stream bed. Beth went limp for a second, then started thrashing around, trying to break free. “I'm not here to hurt you! I'll let you go when you stop trying to hurt me!”

  She protested for a few seconds before realizing she was getting nowhere. Accepting defeat, Beth nodded. He carefully released her wrists but kept his arms up in the event that she lashed out again. I need to get off of his lap, Beth thought, slowly getting up and tossing the razor blade away. The man got up, trying not to damage the wall even further.

  “Sorry about your wall,” he muttered sheepishly, shaking the plaster out of his hair.

  “Who the hell are you?” Beth bit off.

  “I can fix it.”

  “Fix it, pay for it. I don't care. It gets fixed,” Beth responded. She watched as he nodded at her and she took a few seconds to drink him in. He was taller than her. Broad shouldered and built of muscle. He had long, dark hair that was tied back behind his head. Those golden eyes caught her attention again. They were framed by a ruggedly handsome face. His arms were thick and covered in dark hair and ended in massive hands. She found herself wondering what it would be like if they went back to her bedroom – stop! She cut that line of thought off, taking in his clothing. He was still damp, wearing a black jacket, blue jeans, and muddy work boots. Muddy boots?

  She looked down the hallway, seeing muddy boot prints all along the carpet. “What did you do?!” she asked again, nearly screaming it this time. She ran down the hallway, looking at all of the mud he had tracked in. The stairs were almost black. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “Sorry? That's all you have to say?”

  “I'm sorry about your door, too.”

  Beth looked at the door. The frame was shattered, the glass on the door broken out, and the door itself was hanging on only one hinge. She collapsed onto the stairs, putting her hands in her face. “It just keeps getting worse and worse. You going to burn the house down, too?”

  “I only came in because I thought you might have been seriously hurt,” the man rumbled, sitting down beside her. “I'm Clive, by the way. Clive Ash.”

  “I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, Clive,” Beth replied. “But it's not. You've destroyed my house, scared me half to death, and I still don't know why you're here.”

  “I've been sent to keep you safe. I’m with Big Paw Security. Your boss, Mr. Kastner, reached out to us. I've been sent to keep you safe. I've met Charles Hudson a few times. He's not someone you want to cross. As a matter of fact, it's only a matter of time before he finds out where your family home is. He's already raided your apartment. You're lucky you weren't there. Let me help you.”

  Beth still didn't know if she should trust him, but what choice did she have? She nodded weakly. She was in danger, whether she wanted to truly admit it or not.

  “Thanks,” she said, a little grudgingly. “I'm Beth.”

  “I know. It's a pleasure to meet you, Beth.”

  “We'll see about that.”

  Beth went down to the kitchen, avoiding eye contact with the ruined carpet and shattered door. She fixed herself a cup of coffee as Clive went outside to get a few tools to fix the door as best as he could. He told her that after the place was barred up, they would head out to a place where she could be kept safe. He wouldn't give details, and Beth decided not to push the issue. With everything going on, she just needed some caffeine to calm her nerves. After one sip, she gagged at the taste and tossed the cup into the sink.

  The kitchen was quiet except for the occasional sound of a drill, hammering, and the occasional curse. A sudden thought occurred to her. With the wall, carpet, and breaking and entering on her mind she hadn't even considered that she had been naked. Dancing and naked. In front of him. If Hudson didn't kill her, she was sure she would die of the embarrassment. How long had he been watching? He saw everything. Everything.

  She went out into the foyer to watch Clive work. She didn't say anything at first, instead content to watch his powerful body swing the hammer, lift the door, or tape up a trash bag over the broken window. She didn't understand anything he was doing, but she understood watching an attractive man work, getting all sweaty in the process. After a couple of minutes, he turned around and noticed her.

  “Hey, didn't see you there. How long you been watching?”

  “I could ask you the same question about earlier,” she said. Despite the glare she was shooting him, she didn't really feel the anger that she was trying to convey. Best not to tell him that, though.

  To his credit, Clive looked ashamed. “I tried not to look. I wasn't there the whole time.”

  “And what about when you picked me up off the floor and took me into my room?”

  “Uh,” was all he managed.

  “Uh? What's that mean, uh?”

  “Uh, I didn't stare. I was more worried about if you were alright or not.”

  “Uh huh. It's not proper to look at a woman like that without her permission.”

  “I know,” Clive said, turning back to his work. Despite his size and appearance, he had a softer side that Beth never would have expected.

  Deciding to drop the subject, for the sake of both of them, she asked, “How did you get in the front door, anyway? No one should have been able to break in. That's what my dad always told me. Said it was impossible.”

  “It’s just a door,” Clive said and paused. “I'm strong. Anyways, the door is the best it's going to get. It'll hold up against the wind and rain well enough. Won't hold up against the guys Hudson sends to find you, but nothing will. It's time that we got out of here.”

  Beth grabbed a coat and slipped on a pair of her old shoes. On the way out, she grabbed her purse. Clive held the door open for her and she walked out into the light mist. The sun would be going down soon. Darkness was already creeping in. She heard the door close and lock behind her. Clive walked down the steps, holding out the keys to her. She took them gratefully.

  Maybe this isn't going to be so bad, she thought. Maybe… The thought died when she turned the corner to her house, seeing the same, old battered truck that had been following her all day parked behind her car. She stopped in her tracks. Clive kept moving towards his truck, only stopping and looking back when he got to it and realized she wasn't behind him.

  “It was you,” Beth breathed. She held the keys in her hand, but she knew she would never be able to get to her car before he stopped her. She could run, but she knew she couldn't get away from Clive.

  “I told you. I was sent to help you,” he said, coming towards Beth. She shied a couple of steps back from him. “Beth. Please. Listen to me.”

  At that instant, headlights pierced the gloom and two black cars roared down the street. As they reached her house, Beth watched as one whipped into the driveway and the other tore through the yard. Chunks of mud and grass spit out behind the tires. They stopped quickly and the doors opened.

  “Run!” Clive roared, striding forward and ripping his shirt over his head. Beth caught a glance at his heavily muscled back and chest as he turned towards her, still walking forward. “Run! I'll catch up with you! Get into the woods!”

  Beth still stood frozen, but that stopped when she saw that a couple of the men getting out of the cars had guns. She sprinted off, running through the soggy mud, around the side of her house. There was a small gathering of trees around 100 yards behind the house. They were dense, but could hardly be called a forest. She hadn't been in them for nearly 20 years, but she knew them by heart. She could lose them in the woods.

  She flinched as a loud crack split the air. She turned around and watched as Clive doubled over in pain, slowing down but still moving towards the men. Oh my God, he's going to die! The thought flashed through her m
ind but was immediately overwritten by what she saw next. She wasn't sure exactly what happened, or even how to describe it, but as she watched, Clive started to transform.