Bear Fursuits Books 1-4: Bear Fursuits

by Montrose, Isadora

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Eric drove away in a rage. What the fuck was that guy doing hanging around Maddie? He didn't think she would play with a switch hitter. He had always kept his own ventures in that line well concealed from his prissy wife. And surely she wouldn't poach her brother's pal?

  Still, he had to get rid of the bodyguard. Maddie would have given him a hearing if the jerk had not been there. He would swing by her house and try again.

  Maddie was always a sucker for romance. He just had to come up with the right hook, and she would be putty in his hands, eager to please all over again. He could be a big help in her business, move her away from all those fat broads. Her spa/gym concept was dynamite, but her low rent clientele was not.

  He didn't think she would ever need to know about his own profitable sideline, not even after he started using her premises for the shipments.

  * * *

  Doug kept turning his conversation with Maddie's ex over in his mind. Parkhurst hadn't seemed to be aware that he had fouled his nest. No one with a lick of sense would expect Madeline, of all women, to take a serial adulterer back. Parkhurst had more hair than brains, but was still convinced that he was the smartest guy in the room.

  The bead of caulk was a tad too wide, Doug decided. He ran his forefinger down to seal the join between the window frame and the brick and remove the excess. He repeated this step. Satisfactory. He moved the ladder to the next window and sealed that one. He had scraped them all this morning and he was almost done.

  The doorways were next. There were too damn many sets of sliders. Four was about four too many for real security. What Madeline needed was real doors that couldn't be opened by burglars. Or failing that, some decent security measures.

  Doug concentrated on getting the bead of silicone to form a perfectly straight line in the gap between front door and brickwork. He automatically kept track of the brown Porsche Cayenne cruising past. It had tinted windows and he couldn't see the driver. It kept a steady speed and disappeared around the next corner. It was anomalously fancy for this modest neighborhood.

  Eric didn't know if he should curse his luck, or bless it. This was the second time he had seen that bastard at Maddie's house. Both times he had been outdoors doing handyman crap. The SOB's black SUV was parked in the drive. Well if it was still there tomorrow, he would have to get rid of Mr. Handyman.

  Doug cleaned up his tools and thought about dinner. Maddie had come home early and was cooking. He was looking forward to it. He had thought that coming back to Portland would consolidate their relationship. But although they had slept together last night, and made love this morning, he didn't know where he stood.

  Was he just a fling? Or was he obtuse? Trouble was it had been two decades since he had done any courting. Cherry had been his first and his only. And since her death he had neither looked nor wanted to look.

  In some ways, this domesticity where he fixed up Maddie's bungalow, and they ate dinner and talked over her day, seemed more settled than anything he had known with Cherry. Of course, he and Cherry had had apartments in various bases, and had even occupied them together, but not that often. Cherry had been as ambitious as he was, and most of their postings had left them far apart.

  His attempts to talk to Cherry had always ended in misunderstandings and hurt feelings. And he hadn't done much better when he tried to talk to Madeline. If she was just enjoying a hook up, he'd honestly rather not know. His bear was altogether too snug and comfy in this set up and if he was facing disappointment he wanted to put it off as long as possible.

  It was time to insulate Madeline's drafty attic. He had been up and taken a look at the rafters and sheathing. The roof wasn't leaking, but the previous repairs had been done with green timber. As it had dried it had twisted and warped and pulled away from the plywood it supported. He could shim that to make it more stable. Then some new insulation to replace that compacted crap that was there now. Get the house ready for winter.

  The Cayenne did another pass of the street as Doug was putting the ladder away on the rack he had installed in the garage. It didn't slow, and Doug didn't turn his head. He looked sideways and saw the dealer plates. The big SUV turned a corner and vanished. Was Parkhurst driving the Cayenne? Probably. Possibly.

  Doug moved Madeline's SUV from the drive and parked it in the garage. He got Adam's blue pickup from under the shade cast by a tree half a block down, and parked it in front of the house.

  * * *

  Doug had been caulking the windows and doors all day. It was hot disagreeable work in the July sun but he had not complained. At least not about scraping out the ancient crumbling caulk. He was seriously put out by her refusal to permit him to buy her new windows and doors. She couldn't accept such a costly gift. She knew that soldiers didn't get paid that well, not even high ranking officers.

  Madeline had discovered she liked watching the easy masculine athleticism with which Doug did things. He took such pains with everything he did. Watching him move with graceful competence turned out to be one of her favorite occupations.

  She wished he would give her a clue as to his intentions. He had taken off his wedding ring in Wesheno before he had made love to her the first time. And he had left it off. Did that mean he was serious about her, or just that wearing Cherry's ring while he engaged in an affair seemed dishonorable to him?

  He was an enthusiastic if inexperienced lover. So his family's claim that he had been mourning his late wife for years was probably accurate. But did ending his celibacy mean his heart was engaged?

  He was a tentative lover for so big and gruff a man. He seemed uncertain of himself and oddly grateful for her attentions. He had been anxious and apologetic when he realized that he had bruised her hips with his tight grip, and his contrition seemed worried and genuine, his apology abject.

  The instant she had squirmed about on his body where he had placed her after intercourse, he had taken his hands away as if she had burned them. "I'm sorry," he began, "I'll go shower."

  Shower? What was that all about? She had pushed gently on his shoulders and moved so she could find the salty brown nipples in the thick black hair that curled over his chest. He was damp from their loving even though it had not lasted long. But he had made up for that with his reverent attitude to her body.

  He had twitched when she laved his nipples and sucked them lightly. And his hands had begun to roam over her naked bottom as if they couldn't help themselves. When she followed his happy trail with a line of openmouthed kisses all the way to his sticky half erect cock he had clearly been surprised. But he didn't stop her.

  She had lapped and licked until his shaft was a rock hard spike and then had taken it as far into her mouth as she could. His balls were tight in their hairy skin and she had rolled and fondled them and pressed the tender spot at the base of his penis. He had shot his load. And been overcome with mortification. As if his salty, creamy semen wasn't a delicious aphrodisiac.

  All she could do was crawl up his body to kiss him and share the richness of her prize. "I'm sorry," he said. In the half-light she could see the redness on his cheekbones.

  She kissed his cheeks and played with his lips. "You can make it up to me," she purred back at him. But he didn't seem to know what she meant. But when she explained, he had acted as if all his dreams had come true.

  His clumsy rootling in her crotch should not have been as titillating as it was. But the bumbling happiness with which he sucked and licked excited her beyond bearing. When she began to spasm and gripped his head with her strong thighs he seemed freshly bewildered.

  "Come inside me," she ordered in a wanton moan. She opened her legs for him and gripped his buttocks when he surged into her without finesse. He managed a half a dozen strokes before he exploded again. He collapsed on her squashing her into the mattress. "Sorry," he growled and rolled so she lay on him once again.

  It was a revelation that amateur zeal was infinitely more seductive than the polished attentions of exper
ience. It had occurred to her that the fumbling, rough ardor of this big bear spoke to her heart. She didn't wonder how many other women his slick technique had been perfected on. He didn’t have a technique, slick or otherwise.

  She didn't think Doug's raw gusto for sex was merely because it had been a long time for him. It was more that he had expected to do all the work and be criticized for it. Which painted a not so pretty picture of his married life. On the other hand, two years with Eric had inured her to insincerity. Erotic blandishments that were suspect were the precise opposite of sexy.

  It was in fact more fun to teach than to be instructed.

  * * *

  The big black SUV was sitting in Madeline's drive again. The garage door was open and Adam's big pal was inside messing with the tool rack. At this rate he'd never get to make his pitch to Maddie. It was time to take action. Eric hit the gas and roared away in his borrowed Cayenne.

  Doug smiled when Maddie came into the garage from the house. She looked particularly luscious in her Glorious She tunic with her damp hair caught back with a black hair band. He stopped arranging her tools and came over to kiss her. The delicate skin around her mouth was pink with beard burn.

  "I'm sorry," he said, tracing the pink chafing. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

  Maddie giggled. She put a hand on one curvy hip and thrust her bosom out provocatively. "I'd rather not miss my morning workout," she purred.

  "I should have got up and shaved first." Doug's big hands moved to her round and delicious shoulders. He squeezed the firm muscles and abundant flesh.

  "There's a time for shaving, and first light isn't it." Maddie looked into Doug's worried face and patted his arm. "Do you expect me to get up and brush my teeth, and slap on makeup at dawn?"

  "Of course not!"

  "Then I guess, once in a while, I get beard rash." She ran a hand down his jaw. "Are all bears this hairy?"

  Doug caught her hand and kissed the plump palm. "Yup. It's a curse."

  Maddie giggled and nestled into his chest. She inhaled. "Well, I'd love to stay home, but I have a class to teach."

  "I'm driving you," Doug informed her. "Your oil light is on. I want to check that out. I can pick you up when you're done."

  Maddie shook her head. "I can take Adam's truck. You can use mine today."

  Doug couldn't think of a way to say that his bear thought that was a terrible plan. His instincts were roaring even though he couldn't explain the logic. So he kissed Maddie goodbye without protesting. "Text me when you get to the gym," he said.

  Maddie promised and walked down the street to Adam's pickup. Seconds later he saw her drive smoothly away, handling the stick shift with ease. Well, he should finish this job and take Maddie's SUV to the shop. He didn't want Maddie's engine seizing because she needed an oil change. He'd tell them to do a complete diagnostic. He would feel better knowing she had a safe ride.

  An oil change and complete checkup later, he drove back to the house. The damned brown Cayenne was prowling the streets again. Doug made a note of the tag.

  The fiberglass insulation he had ordered for the attic arrived after lunch. The bundles filled the garage and the overflow had to be stacked on the deck. Well he'd use those first and get them out of the way. He had parked Maddie's SUV on the street while the truck was unloading and now he put it back in the drive, carefully shutting the garage door. Wouldn't do to have the insulation stolen.

  Handling fiberglass was a nasty job even in long sleeves and gloves and mask. It was another hot day in Portland and the space between the roof and the ceiling of the bungalow was in the high nineties and rising. Doug let the sweat trickle down his face, because wiping it away would drive shards of glass into skin. Even his tough hide would feel that. He consoled himself that Maddie would be snug while he was away in the winter.

  And just like that he realized that the Army and the Bomb Disposal Unit no longer took priority. Maybe it was time for Lt. Colonel Enright to take retirement and settle down and make some cubs? Jack was on Terminal Leave and looking forward to his new career building log cabins in suburban Seattle. For the first time a nice, safe, civilian career seemed like his heart's desire.

  If only he could be sure Maddie was thinking long term.

  * * *

  The black Explorer was parked in the drive like the client had said it would be. Client had asked for an accident, but in Flamethrower's experience it was always best to aim for quick and final, with fire to destroy trace evidence.

  He shimmied expertly under the car with a penlight and a box cutter and a pair of beat up vice grips. What you wanted was something that looked like wear and tear. This puppy was three years old, so a tear could be attributed to a manufacturing defect or careless driving, whereas even the cops could tell a clean cut was sabotage.

  When he was done, Flamethrower retrieved his insurance policy from his own car. He had parked his ride clear down the street behind a blue pickup. He placed his little device in the spare tire well and turned it on. No one checked that space unless they had a flat. He relocked the car with the master key his buddy had provided him. Nothing more to do now but wait.

  * * *

  "It's okay," Maddie said as she headed out the door. "Putting the insulation in the garage makes perfect sense. It's a nasty job, and I am grateful you're doing it for me." She stopped to kiss Doug good-bye. “ I should be home early. It's Leeann's night to close up. I'll make dinner."

  Doug kept right beside Maddie. His bear was howling and he couldn't figure out why. This was the feeling he got when he was probing for anti-personnel mines. Which made no sense, unless his bear was just signaling danger. But he hadn't made it to forty in the Army's most dangerous profession by ignoring his instincts.

  He scented the intruder as Maddie was unlocking her car. The SUV was just as shiny as it had been the night before. Dew ran off it onto the driveway. That was normal. The faint stink of evil was not.

  Doug stopped Maddie and thrust her behind him. "There's something wrong," he said in his command voice. It stopped her cold. She looked at him in mingled astonishment and fear.

  "Go in the house. Lock the door. I'll be quick." He loomed over her frozen body. "Move," he barked.

  Maddie moved.

  The intruder's spoor was all over the driveway. All over the rear hatch. He peered in the back window, touching nothing. The blanket he had left neatly folded and secured was slightly askew on top of the spare tire well. He caught a whiff of plastic explosives and gasoline. The door to the gas cap was tight and the smell wasn't coming from there.

  As Doug circled the vehicle, the evil scent grew stronger. He went down on his knees beside the front passenger side and sniffed. The guy had spent time under the car. Tampered with something. Planted a bomb.

  * * *

  Patrick Alexander clapped Doug on his back. "I don't know how you knew, Enright," he said. "Spare tire's gone. Incendiary device in its place. Whole thing is connected to couple of quarts of gasoline. Enough to start a fire. Steering fluid line has a ragged puncture. Brake line is frayed. First time either line failed there'd be an accident. Bomb was set to detonate on impact."

  Doug growled. "Those lines were fine yesterday. I had them inspected by a mechanic."

  Maddie was safe. But he would bet his ass that Parkhurst was behind this attempt at murder. The question was why? What could that five star loser hope to gain by killing his ex-wife?

  Alexander had called the cops and they were asking Maddie exactly that. "But I don't know. I don't have any enemies. I don't buy or sell or use drugs."

  "What about the big guy? Known him long?" Detective Holland ran down his mental list.

  "Colonel Enright went to West Point with my oldest brother." Maddie was beyond frosty. "He's known Douglas for twenty years."

  "Old lovers? Ex-husbands? Disgruntled employees?" demanded the bored detective.

  "I was divorced five six years ago. My ex has been pestering me lately. But he has no reason to try to kil
l me."

  "We'll need his name and contact details."

  "I may still have something on my phone. I blocked his calls, and deleted his messages, but I might have his number. And if not, it'll be on the records for the gym." Maddie passed her phone to the detective.

  "So would you describe Parkhurst as a stalker?"

  * * *

  Doug scared the cop who interviewed him. Having a guy that big and intense focus that much ice cold attention on you was unnerving.

  Doug was patient with Det. Colbert's questions. "I've spent a career in bomb disposal. Something triggered a hunch." He shrugged. "I got a little closer. Thought I smelled C4."

  "C4 has a smell?"

  "Um. Gasoline certainly does." The detective nodded. "So I called Alexander because I knew he'd take my concern seriously. I didn't call the cops directly, because patrol officers aren't trained to deal with explosives. Takes time to go through all the steps and get to bomb disposal. My way was faster."