KIKO (MC Bear Mates Book 3)

by Becca Fanning

  “A shifter child,” Elise corrected, “which means you need to educate me a lot more on this clan business.”

  “I will,” Dietrich said. He wrapped Elise up in his arms, his embrace tight and strong. “Both of you. I’ll teach you, and protect you, and never let you go.”

  The End.

  Ben

  Bear Dating Agency II

  by

  Becca Fanning

  When Layla Moss checked out cute guys in her department store, they weren’t usually in the pantyhose section.

  This one was as fine as they come, barely twenty with a boyish dimple in the corner of his thoughtful mouth. His hair was dark and a little overgrown, eyes hooded by a low, concerned brow. He was studying the varieties of pantyhose with deep intent, his massive torso hunched a little to inspect the rows and rows of boxes. Layla was supposed to be taking new stock to fill the display next to the registers, but she’d stopped in her tracks when she saw him. Now, she was helpless to her own will.

  “Just a guess, but I don’t think we stock your size,” she quipped.

  The hunk started, as if he hadn’t even realized she was there. When he looked up, his wide gaze of shock flashed with pure gold. Layla jumped too at that. She knew what golden eyes meant, everyone who lived Crenshaw-adjacent did. The guy was a shifter. And yet, he wasn’t anything like the animalistic thugs she’d seen on her streets late at night. He wasn’t foaming at the mouth or searching for a fight. He was genuinely embarrassed to be holding a pack of pantyhose, his cheeks flushing red beneath a dusting of stubble.

  “My Gram sent me over here,” the shifter explained, his voice low and apologetic. “I have no idea which of these she wants, but she’s all the way at the other end of the store. Could you-?”

  He trailed off, but Layla saw his eyes flash to her name tag. A rush of something totally chemical hit her in the chest, spreading warmth from all angles. She was pretty sure her face was turning pink too, and she thanked her luck that she’d got a little of that cocoa-brown skin tone from her father. Being mixed race covered a multitude of sins. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop her breath hitching like a teenager’s when she next tried to speak.

  “She’ll, uh, she’ll want breathable in the summer,” Layla began. She came to stand beside the tall guy, gently taking the box from his hands. “You’ll bake her with those.”

  “Ah,” he replied, “I so don’t want that. She’s a real beast when she’s angry.”

  Layla looked into the stranger’s golden eyes with fascination.

  “I can believe it,” she said.

  She might have said more, even teased that secret smile from the cutie’s perfect mouth, but footsteps alerted her. She was relieved to see that the person approaching was not her boss, but this second stranger filled her with nerves all the same. He had golden eyes too, though his seemed to burn with a flame that wasn’t present in the cute guy’s eyes. The new man was a little shorter and more lithe, his lean frame clad in bike leathers. He had bright silver hair, which must have been fake, for he was far too young to be turning grey, and there was a look of deep threat all over his face.

  He was looking at the guy beside Layla. But, when she turned to her handsome new friend, she found that he was gone.

  * * *

  One month later.

  In the life of a twenty-three year old shop girl, cuties come and go. Layla had pretty much forgotten her strange encounter with the two shifters in the ladies’ underwear section, and she’d taken her much-needed vacation time to go out to the wilds of Fairhaven. She’d been to the park once before, when she was a kid and Dad was still around, but her memory had not been able to fully capture the place’s stunning beauty. It felt so much safer than the concrete jungle at home, and the air was peaceful and still.

  “Woo! This place is hotter than hell, girl,” Brent exclaimed for the world to hear.

  Brent Masters was Layla’s gay best friend, an up-and-coming stylist who’d just moved out to West Hollywood. He was also the bankroll for her vacation, which included the luxury suite in the Old Spring Lodge at the very south tip of the park. Layla wouldn’t dare complain about Brent spoiling the peace, or about the lurid lime green sweat-suit he’d put on to take a run. She was just grateful to be out in the fresh air, away from the city and her sadness. Or somewhere to distract her from the sadness, at least.

  “Let’s get going,” Layla said with a stretch of her arms. “I wanna do the whole south circuit before lunch.”

  Brent nodded with great enthusiasm, but Layla was pretty sure her skinny friend would duck out and claim an emergency Mojito break before they’d even got half-way. Still, Brent was fun to run with, and he always had fabulous gossip about the drag queens and minor celebrities that came to his salon. As they began their run at a steady pace, Layla started to question him for the latest juice.

  “Sorry honey, that’ll have to wait,” Brent said, a mysterious glint already forming in his blue eyes. “This vay-cay is about you, and I’ve got serious news.”

  Layla pushed her dark curls back, tucking them into her sweatband as she picked up the pace.

  “News about me?” she pressed.

  “You remember my homegirl Karina Vasquez?” Brent began.

  “The one with the dating agency,” Layla replied, nodding as she ran.

  “Well, she’s got clients all the way out here in Fairhaven,” Brent continued, his voice ever-more enthused. “None for me, unfortunately, but one for you. I’ve booked you on a blind dinner date tonight! Go get yourself a hunky outdoorsman, girlfriend.”

  A laugh escaped Layla, so merry that it caught her breath and she had to slow down a little. She clutched at her chest with one hand, the other waving a warning finger at her mischievous friend.

  “He’d better be cute,” Layla warned. “If he’s not cute, I’m gonna set you up with Larry from accounts.”

  Brent’s sneer was priceless, and Layla laughed again. They were chuckling so hard that neither of them spotted the Land Rover coming down the path ahead. The screech of brakes alerted them when it was almost too late, and Layla leaped out of the way as the vehicle came to a sudden halt.

  “Runners have to keep right on the roadway, ma’am,” said a low, polite voice from inside the shiny white car.

  Something sparked in Layla’s chest, though she couldn’t place what it was. She approached the tinted windows, and the driver’s side window rolled down with a buzzing sound. Inside, there was a face framed by dark hair and stubble, with a thoughtful little dimple hiding in the corner of a perfect mouth.

  “No way,” Layla murmured in amazement. “You’re Pantyhose Guy.”

  Brent passed a quizzical eye over the stranger.

  “Maybe there’s someone for me here after all,” he mused.

  “No,” Layla chuckled, slapping his arm. “I mean, this... uh, gentleman, was in my store a couple weeks back. He had to buy hose for his grandmother.”

  “That’s what they all say, darling,” Brent replied.

  Layla looked into the golden gaze of the shifter, and those same warm feelings flushed into her chest. After a moment, she frowned a little.

  “Ah, you don’t remember,” she said more quietly. “Nobody remembers the shop girl. It’s cool.”

  “No, I remember,” the stranger said. His voice had a sudden panic, like he didn’t want her to leave. “You’re Layla.”

  He’d read her name tag, she remembered that. When Layla grinned, the shifter did too, and they remained beaming at each other for a moment.

  “This is the part where you give her your name, handsome,” Brent prompted.

  “Right,” the stranger said. “Sorry. I’m Ben Best. I’m one of the park rangers here. You enjoying your vacation?”

  Layla nodded. “It’s literally just begun,” she told him, “but yeah. I like it here.”

  She wanted to ask about him running out of the store. The memory of their first meeting had slowly surfaced in Layla’s mind, and she’d
recalled the silver-haired shifter who had stared him down. Ben had disappeared without even making an excuse. Layla opened her mouth to voice a question, but there was a honking sound from behind the car that made her jump. Ben craned his head, checking the mirror, and Layla looked out to see a string of tourists with RVs lining up behind him.

  “Ah, I’m supposed to be leading this convoy up to the trailer park,” he explained. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Layla?”

  There was something hopeful in his tone, and Layla gave him her best smile. The RVs honked again in unison, and Ben revved his engine. In moments, the convoy had passed, and Layla and Brent were alone again on the pathway. Layla watched the vehicles disappearing up a hillside road.

  “Hey, don’t you go crushing,” Brent warned in a wicked tone. “I got you a super-hot date tonight.”

  “A girl can’t have a back-up?” Layla asked.

  The friends resumed their run, and Ben was all that Layla could talk about for the rest of the circuit.

  * * *

  Brent was utterly magical when it came to hair and clothes. Even Layla’s dark curly hair – another gift from her father’s side – had been tamed into a sleek curtain that fell over her shoulders. She loved to get glammed up, and there was hardly ever an excuse to do it at home. Layla spent so much time in her department store uniform that she sometimes forgot how good a pretty dress made her feel. She stared at herself in the mirror, a ruby red number clinging to her figure.

  “Dayum,” Brent commented, and that was high praise.

  “You think it’s good?” Layla checked. “I feel good. I feel like I can flirt with the pros tonight.”

  “Give him both barrels, and he’ll be begging you to marry him by the end of the week,” Brent replied. “You’re going to the Lakeside Grill, just down the path from here. The table’s under Karina’s name.”

  “Got it,” Layla said, grabbing her purse.

  Brent tried a few more words of encouragement, but Layla shushed him and set off for her evening of romance. There was still a warm summer glow in the air as the sunset made its final peek over the ridge of the mountains. The air was so silent that Layla could hear her heels clicking against the wooden boards of the pathway that led visitors down to the grill. It was a pretty busy place, decorated with paper lanterns and candles, but when Layla gave Karina’s name to the maître-d’, he led her to a secluded sub-section down by the waterside itself.

  Here, there was only one table, with only one man sitting at it.

  “Well, hello beautiful,” he crooned.

  “You?” Layla asked in amazement.

  She’d stopped a few feet short of reaching the table. Sitting there, with a wide flashing grin, was the second stranger from the store. His silver hair reflected the candlelight, and his bright golden eyes travelled all over Layla’s form. She shivered at that. He wasn’t bad looking, but there was something about him that she just couldn’t place. He reclined in his seat, letting out a little laugh at Layla’s hesitance.

  “You’re not who I was expecting,” he said. “I’m Si, by the way.”

  “How could you know what to expect?” Layla challenged. She still hadn’t taken her seat. “We’re on a blind date, after all.”

  Si’s dark brow rose.

  “Are we?” he asked. “That’s interesting.”

  Layla’s confusion grew, and her stomach made an uneasy motion.

  “This is Karina Vasquez’s table,” she stated.

  Si leaned forward, one fist clenched as he cracked his knuckles.

  “This is Ben Best’s table,” he revealed, “and I’m keen to see him.”

  Layla’s heart gave a jump at the ranger’s name. He was her date? If so, then he was late, and she was alone with a guy that clearly had prior beef to settle. Si got up from the table and Layla took one weary step backwards.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” he asked all too sweetly. “Do predators put you on edge?”

  His golden eyes were brighter, and he was stepping around the table. The maître-d’ had vanished long ago, and suddenly the secluded table by the lake wasn’t so romantic a notion. Layla’s mind flashed back to the streets of LA. She was a woman who knew more than a little about danger. She wondered how quickly she could kick off her heels if she had to run.

  “Silas Reed, as I live and breathe,” said a gentle voice nearby.

  When Layla looked behind her, she was amazed to see a tiny old woman coming around the bend. She was hunched over a little and she wore spectacles that held a thoughtful amber gaze behind them. Flanking her on all sides were five huge guys in park ranger uniforms. And there, at the very center of the group, was Ben. When he met Layla’s eyes, there was something new in his gaze. It smoldered, deep and dark, swirling within the gold.

  “Come on now, Si,” said one of the rangers, one with shaggy blonde hair. “There’s six of us and one of you. You don’t need those odds explained to you, right?”

  “You’re a bad gambler, Kurt,” Si replied. “You just remember that.”

  His voice had become hoarse and deep. There was something of a growl hanging in his words, and Layla began to realize that she was the only true human at the scene. From her bedroom window at home, she had sometimes seen gangs – shifter and human alike – squaring off on the streets. She had always looked away, not wanting to witness the violence that followed. Her urge to run was back, and it was only Ben that made her stay. He was watching her intently, as if her every move was vital to him.

  “How did you find us, Si?” the guy called Kurt asked, his teeth gritted.

  “Dietrich’s all over the papers with that new skank of his,” Si replied.

  “Take that back!” barked a tall, dark-haired guy. Layla had to presume that he was Dietrich, and she watched as Ben put one hand on his shoulder. His gaze came back to Layla, golden eyes meeting brown.

  “Layla, come here,” Ben said. He offered her his other hand. “I’d like you to meet my family. This is Clan Best. And we’re the Bests for good reason.”

  Si gave a heartless laugh, and shook his head.

  “You think you’re so big and strong,” the wicked shifter mused. “Just ‘cause you’ve got numbers on your side. I’ve got numbers too, Ben. Or have you forgotten?”

  As Layla moved towards Ben and his family, Si gave a sudden snarl. Faster than any of them could witness it, the silver-haired shifter turned and dived off the shore. He disappeared into the blackness of the lake, and Layla gazed out into the shadows with worry. She felt a warm hand slip into her own, and she gripped it tightly. When she looked back to Ben, he was wearing that apologetic look again, but now it was far more serious than before.

  “I hate to say it, but I think this date’s just put you in danger,” he confessed. “I need to offer you my protection, just until we get that jumped up little werecat off the park.”

  Layla’s head was filled with questions and her heart was thumping hard from the tension of what had just happened. Yet Ben’s hand was steady and strong, and when she held onto him, the idea of seeing more of him was far from alarming.

  * * *

  That evening, Layla learned the names of Ben’s clan. His grandmother was Anina, and her sole purpose that night was in trying to get Ben and Layla to resume their date at the restaurant. Dietrich was the voice of reason who finally made her stop pressing, and he turned out to be Ben’s older brother. The other three men were Ben’s cousins, each as broad and strong as he was, and they were named Kurt, Hart and Reinicke. Reinicke had a fury about him that Layla didn’t much like, but it was all directed at Si Reed, and the prospect of him returning with his so-called ‘numbers’.