Shiftr: Swipe Left For Love (Nash) BBW Wolf Shifter Romance (Hope Valley BBW Dating App Romance Book 10)

by Ariana Hawkes

  “That’s very cool. And what tattoos do you have?” She shot him a sideways look.

  “I never tell,” she whispered, with a wicked grin. “But maybe I’ll tattoo you, if you’ll let me.”

  “I guess I’m due for a new one. I’ll think about it.”

  “I do it traditional style, with a bamboo stick, so I hope you don’t mind a little pain.” He laughed.

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “Maybe.”

  As they dropped down the bank into the Hollow again, the wind started up, whipping through her clothes.

  “Whew, do you live in the middle of a tornado or something?” he said with a deep, rumbling laugh.

  “I’m starting to think we do. The wind blows all the time here; all day every day, for as long as I can remember. And I only just figured out tonight that it’s not like this everywhere.” He stopped laughing

  “You mean, you’ve never left the hollow before?”

  “Nope. No reason to.”

  “Wow. That’s something. Which one’s your place?”

  “Right here.” He leaned forward to kiss her, but she took a step back.

  “People aren’t real welcoming to outsiders –” she began.

  “Sure. I picked that up. Goodnight, Harlow.”

  “Goodnight.” She wanted to watch him go. Instead, she snuck into the house as quickly as she could, watchful for twitching curtains and faces at windows.

  Her dad was sound asleep, his snores vibrating through the walls, as she got into bed, her heart hammering. She could taste Sawyer’s kisses on her lips, the faint tang of whisky. Her panties were damp, and her whole thrummed with desire. Saying no to going back to his trailer was one of the hardest things she’d done. But he’d be gone in a few days, and the last thing she needed right now was to get her heart broken. It was a long time before her thoughts stilled enough for her to fall asleep.

  4

  Sawyer stood in the shadows, watching until Harlow was safely inside, still hard, his cock straining against the front of his pants. He kind of liked the way she’d rejected his kiss. God, she’s sexy. Her mouth. Her heady scent. He still hadn’t gotten a look at her body as she’d stayed bundled up beneath her heavy coat, but he yearned to peel all those layers off and claim her. And then she told him that she was a tattoo artist. There was something incredibly sexy about a girl who loved body art, and a girl who created it was off the scale. He’d kill to discover what parts of her sweet flesh were tattooed. He didn’t know what was happening to him. This woman was driving his bear crazy. He’d never felt like that toward anyone before.

  He climbed back up the bank, the wind howling around him, tearing through his clothes and chilling him to the bone. And then he got to the top of the hill and it dropped. It stopped as abruptly as a door closing, and the chill left his skin.

  “Goddamn freaky place,” he muttered, turning back to the town and gazing down at it. A few orange streetlights illuminated battered wooden cabins and trailers that looked like they were destined for the dump, all piled together, as if a hurricane had dumped them there. It was the most wretched, beat-up town he’d ever seen. And the town folks didn’t celebrate Christmas, which would make it very difficult for them to earn any money. The circus has been doing quite badly recently. He’d had to invest a lot of money into new equipment to ensure the safety of his people, and they’ve just had a terrible summer and autumn, after the place they’d selected for the season was hit by massive floods. He needed to take care of his people and he couldn’t afford for December to be another money-losing month. But the likelihood of that seemed very real now in this Christmas-hating town. The circus had played at many poor towns before, places where people didn’t have a lot, and made the best of it they could. But this place was something else. It was neglected, certainly. More than that though – it seemed sick; dark. Kind of sinister. How something as beautiful as Harlow could have come from it, he didn’t know.

  But he had to ask the question, the one he’d asked himself many times over the years, in many towns, in many different lands: Are these my people? And something deep inside him, deeper than a feeling or an instinct said ‘yes’. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his skin prickled as his bear pushed its way to the surface. Before he could hold it back, its claws burst through the end of his fingers and the bones in his face began to ache. “No,” he whispered. It can’t be true. Of all the places it could be, don’t let it be this place.

  The following morning, Sawyer hauled himself out from under his heavy winter comforter, walked naked to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then pulled on a pair of worn blue jeans and a tattered check shirt and sat outside on his trailer steps to drink it.

  He’d had a restless night and his head ached. He was sorely tempted to tell the clan to tear down the tent and pack up and leave today, because both his conversation with Harlow last night, and that feeling he’d gotten deep down in his soul were urging him to get the hell out of there. They’d lose the money they’d paid for the site, and they’d struggle to get another Christmas booking so late in the season, but their money-making prospects here weren’t looking very lucrative as it was. He held his head in his hands. Ultimately it was his fault. Their season in Mistletoe Hollow was much longer than usual, as he’d been taking a gamble that a Christmas show would remain popular for the whole of December, which was one of the reasons why he chose the place. He couldn’t have known that the locals would be so hostile, or that the town would be so unenthused about Christmas, but they had bookings in these obscure towns because of him, and what he needed to find out. He always put caring for his people first though, and he would never sacrifice their happiness for his own comfort. He always made sure that the places he was selecting were good for their business, but he’d also had a spree of really bad luck recently.

  “Too much whisky last night, Sawy?” A small voice chirped. He lifted his head to be greeted by the sight of Mildred, a silver-haired rabbit shifter, holding a huge plate of eggs and toast. He forced a smile. She was sweetheart and always put him in a good mood.

  “Thank you, Mildred. You sure know how to cheer a man up.” She did a little rabbit bounce into the air.

  “Oh, Sawyer, I’m so excited for this Christmas show. And everyone else is too. The polar bears said they only slept four hours last night because they were up practicing so late, and Jennifer and I have almost perfected our routines. I so can’t wait to see the top up, with all the lights. This is going to be the best Christmas circus in the entire country!” He nodded.

  “Let’s hope so,” he said, although the words were another stab in his heart. His people would be so shattered if no-one turned up to watch the show.

  When he’d finished his breakfast he washed up, then strode into the campsite. The horses were already hard at work, trotting in formation, and Melina and Reziah were practicing their floor routines. He knew they’d be impatient for the big top to be finished so they could begin working on the trapeze. He blew out a long breath. These were his family, his people and it was his duty to make sure that they were provided for. And that included ensuring that they earned as much money as they could from their shows. The thought of letting them down sickened him.

  “I can’t do it,” he muttered to himself. “I can’t tell them that all the preparations they’ve done are going to be wasted. I can’t crush their excitement and enthusiasm. They will still be disappointed if no-one turns up, but at least they’ll know it has nothing to do with them. And in the new year, once the competition is less fierce, we can still go up north. We can even go to Canada, and put on a winter show. We’ll remove the explicitly Christmassy elements, and it’ll work. But for now, we have to give it our best try here.”

  He turned back to the ring of trailers and began to walk a slow circuit while calling, “Everybody up! Let’s get this show on the road!” As usual, he ended at Vince’s trailer, hollering until his craggy, cracked face poked out of the window and hurled
an obscenity at him.

  Once everyone was up and fed, work continued at a fast pace. Half the clan worked on setting up the big top, while other half rehearsed their routines, and then they swapped. Sawyer pushed everyone hard, keen to get everything up and running as fast as possible. And although he cracked jokes and threw out words of encouragement from his position right at the top of the tent, where he was testing that all the bolts connecting the poles together were tightly closed, guilt flickered in his chest. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, but he couldn’t stand the thought of his people being disappointed.

  By dusk, everything was done – the tent, the flooring, the seating, the refreshment areas.

  “And in record time!” Melina said, joining him in front of the entrance to the big top.

  “Only because I’ve been kicking your asses all day long,” he said, poking her in the ribs. “Let’s try the lights!” he hollered to Gus and Howarth, the lighting engineers. With a whoop, they flicked some switches, and the big top was illuminated. A gasp went through the campsite, like a Mexican wave. It looked incredible. The lighting was red, green and silver, and ‘Christmas’ had been added to the huge green neon ‘Moonrise Wonderland Circus’ sign that adorned the front of the big top, squeezed in between ‘Moonrise’ and ‘Wonderland’. There were also neon stars, angels and Christmas trees.

  “It’s so magical!” Mildred chirped, bouncing over to him with her bunny crew, all of them starry eyed.

  “I think we’ve done it, Sawy,” Flint, his deputy said, coming to join him. “This looks even better than we imagined!”

  “It sure does,” Sawyer agreed, his spirits lifting a little. Then he raised his voice.

  “Come on, guys, three cheers for the lighting engineers!” Everyone cheered and clapped.

  “We’re going to give this town the best goddamn Christmas they’ve ever known,” Flint bellowed. The first one they’ve ever known, Sawyer thought to himself, while fixing a smile to his face. “Shall we make an announcement, boss?” Sawyer’s jaw tightened. They usually broadcasted an advert for the show 24 hours before opening night, and it always generated a lot of curiosity about the circus. But he wasn’t at all sure how this one would be received.

  “Sure,” he said. He went over to the sound booth and picked up the microphone, cleared his throat, and a moment later, his deep, resonant voice was booming from the speakers at the apex of the big top, across the campground and most likely all the way to that small windy hollow: “Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls! The most incredible spectacle in the world – The Moonrise Wonderland Christmas Circus has come to your town, for a few days only! Come and be dazzled by lions, tigers, bears and horses! Witness incredible feats of agility and strength, and magic tricks that’ll make you distrust your own eyes…” As he spoke the familiar words, his mind wandered to Harlow, as it had on and off all day, and he wondered if she was still at work in the bakery, or inking someone’s arm, listening to his voice and recognizing it.

  He put the microphone down and turned back to his clan. “Now we’re all set, I want everyone to relax tonight. We’ve got a long stretch ahead of us, with performances every night, right up until Christmas. Eat, drink, take it easy!” The clan roared their approval and began to disperse.

  As he continued chatting to Melina and Flint about the opening night, Reziah came up, carrying an armload of posters.

  “Ready to go flyering?”

  “Sure am!” Melina replied.

  “Wait – I’ll come with you,” he said. “But I was thinking that we should take the town a gift – sweeten them up a little. I’ll be back in a minute. Flint, you come with me.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the guys were back, hauling a ten-foot pine tree and some chopped up chunks of wood.

  “You’re giving them a Christmas tree! That’s so neat,” Melina exclaimed.

  “Yeah. I thought it’d help get them in the Christmas spirit.”

  “So we need some LED lights too, and some sparkly bits and pieces. I’ll ask the lighting guys.” She hared off, and was back before long with her arms full and several strings of lights wrapped around her neck.

  “And put some coats on, guys. It’s not called Windy Hollow for nothing,” Sawyer called, heading to his trailer to grab his own coat. He also grabbed a bunch of nails. With the wind whipping around like that, keeping the flyers pinned down wasn’t going to be easy.

  5

  Harlow was on her way home from work when the deep, rumbling, bass voice resounded through the town. She stopped dead, her heart thumping in her chest. She instantly recognized it as Sawyer’s voice. As hard as she’d tried to put him out of her mind, she’d been thinking of him more or less continually, all day long. It’s happening! The circus is coming tomorrow! she thought to herself, and excitement and dread clutched at her stomach. Other people, hurrying home in the darkening street, wrapped up against the wind, stopped and stared at one another, wondering how there was suddenly a circus right beside them – beside their town where nothing ever happened or changed from one year to the next. Harlow sensed that to the townsfolk, it felt as unexpected and unwelcome as a nuclear-bomb warning. The announcement was followed by a blast of upbeat festive music, and tooting horns. Old Ma Garvey waddled over and grabbed Harlow’s arm with her crabbed fingers.

  “What on God’s green earth was that about, Harlow?” she demanded in her hoarse, cracked voice.

  “It’s the circus, Ma! They’ve set up on the old camp ground. They open tomorrow night!” Ma Garvey put her hands on her hips and stared in the direction of the campground, and Harlow finally noticed that it was illuminated. Bright ribbons of light were streaming across the sky, invitingly, as if they were enticing the town to run to them.

  “My goodness, there hasn’t been a circus here for, what – twenty years or more.”

  “There was a circus?” Harlow demanded, her attention immediately piqued.

  “Yes. It was a very good one too I recall. All the shifter-animals were so beautiful, and all the tricks they did –” Her usually dour face lit up, and for a fleeting moment, Harlow saw her youth in her face; the girl she used to be. “But that was before everything changed, of course.”

  “Wait – when did everything change?”

  “Because of the circus.”

  “What, you’re saying everything changed in the town because of the circus?”

  “Maybe. Let me think.” Harlow buzzed with frustration while the old woman put her hand over her mouth, her eyes darting back and forth.

  “Yes – I think it was that year. But we’re not to speak of it. Ever. I should be getting home now.”

  “Please, Ma. Tell me what happened?” Harlow held onto her hand beseechingly. But the old woman snatched it back and shuffled away, mumbling to herself. Harlow stood in the center of the square and stared at the lights, turning over her thoughts, until a big, dark object emerged from the darkness at the edge of the square, startling her. It looked like an eight-legged monster. She blinked hard as she discovered that it was at least four people, carrying a large, unwieldy object.

  “Sawyer, is that you?” she called as they came into the light. He was accompanied by the two felines who’d ambushed her and Rebecca the previous day, and Flint. And they were carrying a big pine tree and some blocks of wood.

  “We come bearing a gift,” he said, depositing the tree on the ground.

  “You’re bringing a Christmas tree to Windy Hollow?”

  “We thought it might help get the townsfolk into the spirit of things.”

  “And encourage them to come to the circus,” Melina added.

  “It’s a gift,” Sawyer insisted. “Not a marketing ploy. But we have plenty of those too.” He indicated the huge sheaf of posters that the other girl was carrying. Harlow stepped closer to him.

  “Sawyer, I really don’t think this is going to go down well with the people of the town,” she said quietly.

  “Come on. What’s the worst that can happen
? The posters get torn down and no-one goes to see the Christmas tree?”

  “I don’t know,” she said in a serious tone. “Nothing like this has been done before.”

  “I’ll take the blame for it,” he said with a grin. “Look, maybe everyone needs to be shaken up a little to wake up from the nightmare in which they seem to be living.”

  “I don’t know about that. They’ve been living like this for as long as I can remember,” Harlow said, looking around nervously.

  “Harlow, I can see that you’re afraid to be seen with us. How about this. We’ll get everything done here by ourselves, so nobody will think you had anything to do with it. Then I’ll come find you later. I think I may need your help with something.” His voice had become very soft, desire showing in the eyes that were boring into hers.

  “Okay. Maybe I’ll come to the camp ground if I can get away from dad. It’s not safe for us to meet here.”

  They were already attracting stares, and it was making her uncomfortable. Without a backward look, she began walking fast, all the way home.

  Harlow began cooking dinner, but she couldn’t resist sneaking a look out of the front door now and then. The square was just visible in the distance, and before long some lights began to sparkle, going from the ground, up to several feet in the air. “Okay. The tree’s up,” she murmured. But her palms were sweating, and unease sat in the pit of her stomach. She went back to stirring a pot on the stove, and a few minutes later, her dad hurtled through the door.

  “What the hell’s going on out there?” he yelled, far more animated than she’d ever seen him before.

  “I don’t know, dad,” she said calmly. “What is going on?”

  “Some hoodlums are running around, defacing the town. That’s what!” She stifled a snort.