Crazy About Curves: 10 Luscious Reads

by Adriana Hunter

  Bethany sighed, remembering the conversation — scratch that...fight — she and Max had just a few hours ago as he packed his bags.

  “Bethany, it’s done,” he’d said to her with a hard edge to his voice. “I’m not trying to be a hard-ass or a jerk, I’m really not. It’s just not safe for you there, plus I need to focus on this job, and I won’t be able to do that if I have to worry about you and the baby.”

  She was fuming but also really hurt. How could he just desert them like this? For a job? Of course she wasn’t shy about saying it out loud.

  He’d zipped his duffel with a finality she didn’t like one little bit. “That’s a low blow and you know it. I’m not deserting you and I never will. Don’t you get it? If I don’t take this gig, I’m done with the Council. Finished. Now correct me if I’m wrong, but giving up my paycheck when there’s a baby on the way probably isn’t the best parenting move in the world, is it?”

  He was greeted with crossed arms and a stormy glare. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. He’d taken her on other jobs like this since they’d been together. She didn’t see what was so different about this one.

  “Well, for one thing, it’s a Brotherhood stronghold. Hopefully by now you understand that these aren’t just kind people with strong beliefs who will give you funny looks. These are dark, dangerous werebears who have been known to kill for less things than carrying a half-breed baby.”

  The words hurt as much as if he’d slapped her face. Half-breed? Did he really call our baby a half-breed?! The sight of him was turning her stomach.

  “Get out,” she whispered, color rising in her face

  “B, I didn’t mean—“

  “Out! Get out! Get out of my sight, you fucking asshole!”

  She needed him to leave before the tears came, because they were coming and it would be a flood. Screeching at him was the only way to stem the tide...for the moment.

  He’d just nodded, grabbed his bag and walked out.

  “He said he couldn’t afford the distraction,” she whined to Paul, conveniently leaving out the part about why her presence would be a distraction. “Didn’t even kiss me goodbye.”

  He was quiet for a moment, assessing her. She hated when he did that, mainly because he was seeing things she wasn’t sure she wanted him to see.

  “Can you blame him?” he finally asked gently.

  She gaped at him. “Yes, yes I can! How do you fly off to Alaska, of all places, and not kiss the mother of your child goodbye?”

  Paul chuffed at her. “Um, let’s see, because you were acting like a total biatch, maybe? I could hear your screaming through the walls.”

  He got up and rummaged around in a cupboard. How he didn’t crumple into a bloody mess from the daggers her eyes were shooting into his back she didn’t understand. She hated him for telling her what she already knew.

  “So this is all my fault? Thanks, pal.”

  “Oh, calm down, Alex Forrest,” he said, planting a plate of Mint Milano cookies in front of her. They were her favorite, and he knew it, damn him.

  Stuffing a cookie in her mouth, she grumbled, “Who?”

  Paul rolled his eyes, as if everyone should know who he was talking about. “Alex Forrest? The crazy lady Michael Douglas impregnated in Fatal Attraction?”

  She stopped mid-chew and just stared up at him. He was comparing her to Glenn Close’s bunny-boiling character! As much as she wanted to storm out in righteous indignation, she couldn’t stop her lips from turning up at the edges. A moment later, cookie crumbs sprayed everywhere as she burst into laughter.

  “You’re...an...asshole...” she said between guffaws.

  Laughing right along with her, Paul wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a side hug before sitting back down. When the giggles quieted down, he picked up a cookie and nibbled at it.

  “You know I love you, B, but you have to admit you’ve been a little rawr lately.” He raised his hands up like claws when he said it.

  Ashamed, she stared into her mug. “It’s the hormones.”

  “I know, honey. I know. So it’s not really fair to get all butt-hurt that he didn’t kiss this angry momma bear who’d just kicked him out, right?”

  She shrugged, pouting, but knowing he was absolutely spot on. Damn him again.

  “So then, the question is, how do you fix it?”

  “Fix it? I’m still mad as hell at what he said about our baby, Paul. He should be trying to fix it!”

  He sat back and gave her another one of those assessing looks. “Maybe so. Or maybe you make the first move because this guy is the love of your life and the father of your baby, and you don’t want something stupid like his doing his fucking job to get in the way of your relationship. How about that?”

  “Dammit, Paul, why can’t you just be on my side for once?” She snatched another cookie from the plate and chucked it at him. He caught it deftly and popped it in his mouth, grinning at her.

  “Sweetie, you know I’m on your side. Always have been, always will be. That’s why I’m telling you this. I’ve never seen you happier than since you and Max hooked up. He’s so totally head over heels for you it’s off the charts.”

  “The feeling’s mutual. But...”

  “No buts. Either you’re committed to him or not.”

  “I am, but...”

  Paul held a hand in front of her face. “Uh uh! No buts.”

  She took a deep breath. As angry as she was at Max, she had to admit that their relationship was more important to her than anything, with the exception of her child. If they could make it through months of harassment by members of his community, then they could make it through anything.

  “No buts. I’m fully committed.”

  “Good! Now let’s figure out how to get you two lovebirds back on track.” He took a deep breath and bellowed, “Kimmy! Get your skanky little ass out here!”

  A moment later, Kimmy stumbled out of her bedroom wearing a red corset and nothing else. Her breasts were about to tumble out of the top, and her bottom half...well, Bethany finally felt vindicated for always suspecting Kimmy was a natural redhead and not a brunette.

  “What?” she grumbled.

  “Geez, can you put on some panties? Nobody needs to see that thing!”

  “Listen, dickwad, you called me out here like the house was on fire. It’s not my fault you don’t have the common decency to knock on my door like a gentleman.”

  “You mean like the horny pig who skulked out of here this morning, slipping his wedding ring back on as tiptoed out the door?”

  Kimmy blanched for a second, then went blank. She shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Bethany’s heart broke for her friend. Kimmy put up a good front as a fun-loving party girl flight attendant, but Bethany suspected that her friend was hoping one of these guys might actually stick around for awhile.

  “So what’s the big emergency,” she said, strutting in all her glory to the fridge and pulling out a jug of orange juice.

  “Don’t drink out of the jug,” Paul cried. “God only knows where that mouth has been!”

  Kimmy winked at Bethany. “He’s one to talk.”

  Bethany busted up.

  “Listen, bitches. I called us together to help momma bear here. Can we just?”

  “Okay, what already?” Kimmy put the jug back and leaned back against the counter, her crotch staring them in the face.

  “For God’s sake, firecrotch, put this on.” He tossed her a lavender pashmina that had been draped on the back of his chair.

  Rolling her eyes, she wrapped the fabric around her waist and sat next to Bethany. “Is that better, prude? Can we get on with this now?”

  “Fine. Bethany here is on the outs with Max. He’s flown off to some godforsaken place in Alaska, so he’s off the grid at least until he gets there. We need to figure out a way to get them back on speaking terms.”

  Kimmy shrugged and grabbed a cookie. “Where in Alaska and what airline did
he take?”

  “Kodiak, and I’m not sure which airline,” Bethany said. “But he left here about an hour ago so that would mean his flight is probably just taking off.”

  “Ooh, good info. M’kay, hold on.” Kimmy pulled her smartphone from the purse hanging on the back of her chair. The kitchenette was silent as she tapped away.

  “Ouch! If I’m right, which of course I am, he’s got a three-hour layover in Anchorage. Hold on.”

  More tapping. “Yes! I can hook you up with a Family Pass for a direct flight that leaves in a couple hours.”

  It took a minute for Bethany to understand what Kimmy meant. “You mean, I fly up there to meet him?”

  “Why not? You’ll get there after him but I’m sure Kodiak has cabs, or some version of them. It’s pretty dinky.”

  “You’ve been there?”

  “That girl has been around the world, and that was just this morning,” said Paul, waggling his eyebrows.

  Kimmy ignored him. “Not as a flight attendant. My dad took me fishing up there back in the day. Can’t imagine it’s grown much since.”

  Bethany knew how much it hurt Kimmy to talk about her late father, so she gave her arm a quick rub. Kimmy smiled tightly.

  “But is it safe for me to travel? I thought women in their third trimester weren’t supposed to fly.”

  Kimmy shrugged. “Get a note from that witch doctor of yours. My airline isn’t as strict as others. As long as your doctor says you won’t pop on the plane, you’re golden.”

  “So it’s settled,” Paul said, rubbing his hands together as if he’d just solved some great mystery. “Get to packin’, girl. You’re going to Alaska! Ohmigod, he’s going to cream himself when he sees you!”

  The pair shooed her off to her side of the duplex to pack while Kimmy made the arrangements. With each item she stuffed into her suitcase, the knot in Bethany’s stomach grew tighter. She was excited at the prospect of meeting and hopefully helping Veronica. Of course more than anything she wanted to see Max again to apologize, but the feather of doubt that started fluttering in her brain next door had turned into a pounding. If Max’s warnings about the Brotherhood were true, she could very well be walking into a lion’s den.

  “Scratch that. Bear’s den,” she whispered. Every hair on her body stood on end.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  “It’s me again,” Max said into his phone. “I hate how we left things, and now you’re not returning my calls. I’m really sorry, Bethany. Please call me as soon as— Dammit!” That was the third time his phone had cut out since he’d arrived. Cell coverage on this little rock in the Gulf of Alaska was pretty sad.

  He was surprised he hadn’t worn a path in the hotel room’s grungy carpet from his pacing. He’d called Bethany three times since he landed in Kodiak — when he had a signal, that is — but she wasn’t answering. Which meant she was still pissed, and he couldn’t really blame her. He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that calling their child a half-breed was a mistake. More than a mistake; a major fuck-up. And now she was rightly letting him suffer.

  He’d only been trying to point out what those involved in the Brotherhood would think about their baby, but even so, he regretted it instantly. It was as if saying the word — even if he didn’t feel it — made it true, gave it unexpected power. Anyone else she could have brushed off, but not him.

  The shame he felt at being so insensitive to his mate was getting his bear worked up and fidgety. If he couldn’t talk to Bethany, he needed to do something. Anything. A run, he decided. That would blow off some steam and allow him to scope out the town.

  As he laced up his running shoes, he tried to push the anxiety out of his mind. Running always cleared his head, but he wasn’t so confident it would work this time. He’d really screwed things up and had no clue how to fix them.

  Walking through the lobby of the rustic Kodiak Lodge the Council had chosen for him, sadness gripped his gut. Bethany would love this place, he thought, shoving at the rough hewn entry doors.

  The building was one of the oldest in town, and many of its fixtures were original, including the doors. They were cut from a single cross section of an enormous Sitka spruce. The rings showing the growth of the tree matched up on each door, creating the illusion that the doors themselves were circular. Shiny dents worn into the wood offered testimony as to just how many thousands of hands had pushed on them over the years.

  Jogging through the damp streets of downtown Kodiak, Max watched as fishermen trudged toward the harbor with buckets of gear, wearing bright orange rubber pants and dark green slickers. Little kids splashed in puddles, tromping around in Sitka Sneakers, the brown rubber boots everyone up here wore. Even ladies hustling between stores wore them.

  Architectural Digest wouldn’t be sending a photographer any time soon to document the plain boxiness of most of the town’s buildings. During his research for this trip, Max discovered that an enormous tsunami hit the town in 1964, destroying much of the waterfront and killing 15 (only one of which was a werebear, according to the Council’s records). Still reeling from the devastation, the practical townspeople gave little to no thought to aesthetics, only to how quickly and safely the town could be rebuilt. He admired their resilience.

  The overwhelming majority of the town’s 6,000 residents were human, but the local werebear clan held enough property and government positions to ensure its safety. According to the International Council, most of the clan lived in small, concentrated neighborhoods on the outskirts of town, though a handful of members had gained prominence in the larger community. They’d even had a werebear mayor for awhile in the ‘90s, not that most of the human residents had a clue.

  It didn’t take long for Max to reach the edge of town, where he veered off the main highway — if you could call the pot-holed riddled two-lane road a highway — onto a smaller, less-traveled road. He could tell it didn’t get much traffic from the fine layer of moss that grew in the tire ruts.

  His breath came out in white plumes, his feet crunched on the gravel and odd twig that littered the road. The sun would barely dip below the horizon around midnight during this time of year, but it was still a touch chilly. Summer was a beautiful time up here, but it never failed to surprise him how rainy it was. Until it snowed.

  Rounding a bend, Max almost ran right into a massive grizzly standing in the middle of the road. He came to a quick stop about 20 feet away but only felt curiosity toward the animal. He knew instantly that this was no werebear, just as he knew that, as long as he didn’t overtly threaten the bear, it wouldn’t take an interest in him.

  Contrary to popular belief, bears — regular and were — have eyesight that’s comparable to humans. But their sense of smell is off the charts. So when the grizzly lifted its snout and chuffed at him, Max knew it was just trying to figure him out. It took all of five seconds for the beast to recognize him as another bear — granted, a funny-looking one — and lumber his way to the other side of the road.

  “Why did the bear cross the road?” Max asked the misty air as the bear’s enormous hind end disappeared in the dense undergrowth. “To shit in the woods. Yuk yuk yuk.”

  The animal’s strong odor filled his nose as he turned to head back to the hotel. He wanted to get back and, he wasn’t ashamed to admit, try calling Bethany again.

  Standing directly in his path was another big bear, but this one was of the were variety. His inner bear hackled and itched to be released, but Max restrained it.

  Down boy, he scolded. We’re here to help their clan, remember? Grudgingly, his bear retreated but was on high alert, just in case this encounter went sideways. Something was off and they both sensed it.

  Max nodded at the bear, keeping his mouth shut. He stood his ground, but focused on not taking a defensive — or even worse, an offensive — stance. He was an invited guest but this was still their territory and he had to be respectful of that.

  The bear just stood there, assessing him. When it began moving towa
rd him, Max continued to stand perfectly still, never breaking eye contact with the strange were. He swore he saw something, maybe a warning, flash in the bear’s eyes as it passed him and ambled into the forest, never looking back.

  He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. That was weird, he thought. He’d been in plenty of altercations with other werebears but there was usually a reason for a fight. Never had he heard of one were attacking another unprovoked. And certainly not when one of them was in human form. Not that this one had attacked, but it was definitely trying to let him know who was boss.

  Did it know who he was or was it just asserting its position? He had no idea but he hoped that were, and any others like it, didn’t underestimate him. He’d hate to hurt anyone from the clan he’d been brought here to assist but he wouldn’t hesitate to defend himself.

  The run back to the hotel helped shake off some of the residual willies he had from the encounter. He’d noted the male bear’s scent so he would recognize its human form if they met again. He had no idea how, or even if, this bear would affect his mission here, but something was telling him to watch his back.

  By the time he got back to the hotel, he was wet all the way through from the heavy mist that had been like running through a cloud. His feet were completely soaked. In other words, he was cold, wet and hungry, not to mention distracted by that damn werebear.

  That explained why he didn’t notice anything amiss when he opened his door, why his inner bear smelled the intruder before Max realized what was happening, and why he let his bear take over the instant he saw a dark form hurtling at him. In the blink of an eye, the intruder lay in a heap at his feet and, just as quickly, he sank to his knees, a single word escaping his lips before a howl of grief shook the walls.

  “Bethany...”

  Chapter 6

  “The run’s pretty strong this year, Fred,” Jess said to his chocolate lab. The dog’s blotchy tongue sagged happily from his mouth as his big brown eyes watched his owner’s every move. “The bears are going to go into hibernation this fall with big fat bellies, my friend.”