Rescue Bear

by Candace Ayers

  I tried to keep scowling, but her laughter and amusement was pleasing. I easily picked her up and threw her over my shoulder, slapping her ass as I did. “You’re not very respectful of my deadly predator status.”

  She laughed wildly when I dropped her onto the bed and came down on top of her. I buried my face in her neck and growled. She instantly arched her back and rubbed her soft body against mine.

  “I love you, Megan.”

  She froze and blinked up at me.

  I just smiled, knowing that she loved me, too, whether she was ready to say it aloud or not. I could see it in the way she looked at me, and in the little things she did for me. I could feel it radiating off of her through our bond. Her feelings for me were as real as mine were for her. “I love you and I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving you everything you want. Naps in my fur, babies. Anything.”

  Her eyes filled with tears and she grabbed my neck to pull me down for a kiss. “I love you, too.”

  I rolled us over so she was on top of me. I felt my own wave of emotion at hearing the words. She wasn’t holding anything back. She was giving every part of herself to me. “Yeah?”

  She stroked her hands down my chest and bit her lip. “It’s later, Roman.”

  For a second I didn’t know what she meant, but then I remembered that first night we spent together in the bathtub. The promise that she could return the favor later. “It’s later?”

  She grinned. “It’s later.”

  “Thank god for Florida.” I gritted my teeth as my sexy little mate slid down my body seductively, licking her lips with her own eagerness to make later happen.

  THE END

  NEXT BOOK IN THIS SERIES

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  Enjoy A Free Sneak Peek…

  Fire Breathing Beast: Dragons of the Bayou Book 1 (SNEAK PEEK)

  1

  Sky

  I had a table of six teenagers who thought it was funny to shoot soda out their straws across the table at one another. Beautiful. A nasty, sticky mess and—I’d stake my life on it—a crap tip. Not only that, but I’d probably be waiting on them for another hour while they horsed around making messes until a parent of one of them came to pick them up. They were around the same ages as my nephews, and wildly immature.

  Not that Casey and Nick were all that mature. They weren’t. They just had a different type of immaturity. I glanced to the rear of the café. The boys were in the back office doing their homework, their typical routine after school when I was working a shift. It was a Monday night and the teachers at the charter school they attended had loaded them down with work. Still, they needed to be checked on every so often to make sure they were behaving. Otherwise, one never knew what those boys might get into. What was that saying about idle hands?

  I spotted Nick’s size thirteen tennis shoes poking out of the office doorway and I couldn’t stifle the sigh that escaped my lungs at the sight. The kid wouldn’t stop growing. He was already a half a foot taller than me and at six foot, it didn’t look like he was slowing down anytime soon. His feet weren’t slowing down, either. That pair of tennis shoes protruding past the doorjamb were the fourth pair I’d bought him in the last twelve months.

  “I can’t believe Kayla is really going to ask Danny to the dance.” A high-pitched voice rang out across the crowded café. “Ugh, how embarrassing for her. Danny already told me he likes me and he thinks she’s an ugly cow.”

  I looked back at the table. Danny’s apparent love interest was a pretty blonde with a nasty snarl and an upturned nose. While the rest of the table laughed, my heart went out to poor Kayla.

  “She is a cow. I don’t know why you still hang out with her.”

  “Do you see her here?”

  More laughter. I blew out a long breath. I was starting to think that I was too old for this, but I wasn’t. It was the mileage not the years.

  “Sky, can you drop this at table four? I need to run to the back and check my phone.” Amie, the other waitress, held a tray of food out to me and flicked her eyes to the back. “I’m waiting to see about the test results.”

  I took it from her and smiled. “Of course. I’m crossing my fingers for you.”

  She was trying to get pregnant. Having custody of two teens, I sometimes wondered why she wanted it so badly, but I was hopeful for her. In my mind, a woman went through the pain of childbirth only to end up eventually with teenagers who considered you the bane of their existence. At least I was able to have avoided the “pain of childbirth” part and gone right to the “evil lord overseer” part. Casey and Nick were my brother’s kids, not my own, as they liked to remind me.

  I dropped the food off at table four, got them a fresh bottle of ketchup and glanced again at the back. Marcus, the owner, didn’t mind the kids being around after school, but I didn’t want to wear out our welcome. I had nowhere else to send them.

  Nick’s shoes were still there, but at an odd angle. Humph. A really odd angle. My stomach dropped. I hurried back to see what was up and found Amie sitting alone at Marcus’ desk. Nick’s shoes had been propped up using the bottles from the cokes I’d grabbed for him and Casey earlier. Crap! I knew I wouldn’t find them in the kitchen, but I looked anyway. No luck. A door led out to the back alley. I already knew they were gone.

  “It was negative.” Amie’s voice cracked and broke through my anger. “I’m not pregnant.”

  “Oh, Amie, I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head and climbed to her feet. “It’s like the good book says, right? To everything there’s a season.” She blew out a rough breath.

  I wrapped her in a quick hug, a comfort-squeeze, then gestured towards Nick’s shoes. “I know of a couple of kids for sale or rent. You can get ‘em super cheap today. Bargain basement prices.”

  “No, thanks.” She edged Nick’s shoes out of the way and then pushed her shoulders back and jutted out her chin. “It’ll happen when it happens.”

  “That’s right, chère. Keep your spirits up.” I tried to comfort Aime, but my anxiety sky rocketed as I scanned the café. It was packed and from what I could tell, a few of my tables needed tending to. Looked like table six could use drink refills, eleven was nearing either dessert or their check, and table eight should be just about ready to order. Shoot. I couldn’t just go after the boys. Marcus was an understanding boss, for the most part, but skipping out during the dinner rush was not a forgivable offense at the Bon Temps Café. If I attempted to slide out and look for them, he’d have my hide, not that I couldn’t blame him.

  My stomach knotted in worry. Those boys. I couldn’t afford to lose my job. I’d have to pray now and search for their butts later. Hopefully, they wouldn’t get themselves into too big ‘a trouble while I finished out my shift.

  I did what any good worker in a service job does and swallowed my personal issues while plastering a smile on my face. In my head, though, I was raging. I took a few deep breaths and tried to extinguish the imaginary shouting match I was having with Nick in my head. He was the older of the two and at sixteen, he knew better. As much as I wanted to yell and scream at him to stop dragging Casey into troublesome predicaments and start stepping up and helping out, a huge part of me just felt sorry for him. Sure, he put me through some major stress, but they’d both weathered pretty tough storms in their young lives.

  I got that they were angry and lost but, lord ha’ mercy, Casey had just turned fourteen and he’d already been picked up by the police twice. Each time, somehow, Nick had mysteriously been absent. But,
I wasn’t born yesterday. I suspected Nick had been close by and probably the orchestrater of the goings on—at least close enough to have had his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. Nick had managed to be picked up a few times, too. Maybe he’d just gotten wiser at staying out of reach of the long arm of the law, but it wasn’t like Casey to get into trouble all by himself.

  They’d run away from the café before. They hated sitting in the back and waiting on me, but I couldn’t allow them to stay in the house by themselves. It wasn’t safe for mischievous teenage boys to be left alone unsupervised. Of course, it wasn’t fair of me to take up a table in the front when the place was swamped with paying customers, either. That was no way to keep a job I desperately needed.

  I realized I was going around in circles in my head, frustrated and scared. Stepping in and taking over the raising of teenage boys when I had only just learned how to care for myself was so darn hard and I really sucked at it. But, I’d be damned straight to the fiery infernos of H-E-double toothpicks if I’d let those boys go off to be separated and raised by strangers. Not in my lifetime.

  I hated it when they ran off. They didn’t have phones—it wasn’t in our budget—and I never knew where they were. Part of me, somewhere in the back of my mind, was just waiting on a call that would turn everything upside down and change it forever. Again.

  “Look alive, chère. Your table of toddlers are ready to split without paying.”

  I snapped to attention and hurried over to them. “Oh, y’all weren’t trying to slip away before you settled the bill, were you?”

  A boy who looked similar to Nick in height and build shook his head. “Er, no, ma’am.”

  “Oh, thank heaven ‘cause you see the owner, Marcus…he’s a little cuckoo for cocoa puffs if y’all know what I mean. And nothing gets his goat more than patrons who dine and dash. I’ll let you in on a little secret. He keeps a sawed-off shotgun behind the counter for just such occasions. You know, when people try to leave without paying for the food that he purchases, Big Jay cooks, I serve and clean up after. His finger’s been real slippery lately, too.”

  The nasty, snarling blonde girl elbowed the tall boy and whispered to him. “Just pay her.”

  “You pay her. You’re the one who wanted to come here!”

  I put my hands on my hips and cocked my head to the side. “I don’t care who pays, as long as one of y’all does before Marcus and his twitchy finger go for the sawed-off. I am so not in the mood to clean up blood tonight. Last time I ruined a perfectly good pair of jeans.”

  A twenty was quickly thrust into my hand and the lot of them fled the restaurant like they’d just seen Freddy Krueger. I grabbed their bill and swore under my breath. A twenty cent tip. La-di-da. Little shits.

  Amie came up beside me, balancing her tray on her hip. “What’d they tip you? Fifty cents?”

  “Twenty.”

  She groaned. “We should chase them down and talk to their parents.”

  “We should chase them down and beat ‘em up for their lunch money.”

  “You both should get back to work and stop fantasizing about robbing our young patrons.” Marcus lightly squeezed both of our shoulders and then nudged us away.

  I spared one last glance back at the empty office and blew out a breath. Please, Lord, let them be okay.

  2

  Beast

  Seventy-five years and I still missed the old world. The swamps of southern Louisiana’s delta basin were fine, but they weren’t the same. I’d done my best to build my castle in this human world, but something about the place wasn’t home. I missed the massive towering castles where I used to perch as a youngling on the centuries old stone turrets and breathe fire at anyone who dared approach.

  I listened to the two males creep closer. Still about a mile out, I heard them as they crossed over my property line. I couldn’t suppress the grin. Fortunately, I still got to have a bit of fun once in a while. By the way they were navigating the marsh, they were traveling with a purpose. It wasn’t the first time humans had come nosing around to see what was lurking deep in the interior of the swampland, although, due to the stories and rumors, it was a rare occurrence.

  Some said, usually in whispers, that a voodoo priestess had cursed the area and all who ventured far enough into the swamps were damned. Others spoke of the rougarou, Cajun werewolves, frequenting the area. Luckily, superstitions were rampant in this part of the deep south and tales of sinister happenings deep in the bayou were handed down from mothers to babes. Once a body entered, they said, he might never return.

  The stories and rumors were all started by yours truly, of course. I wasn’t a fan of trespassers. Besides, if they knew the real truth, they’d run for their weak, puny, little lives. The way my enemies of old once had.

  My nostalgic reminiscing of the old world was expressed in a long, low sigh and I sank into the cushioned chair that the human interior designer had sworn I would love. Surprisingly, I did. That was one thing the old world didn’t have, these chairs. What had the squeaky human male called it? Ah, yes, an ergonomic exterior patio lounger and recliner. Strange name for a chair. I kicked my feet up on the stool that accompanied it and gazed out at my swamp. A napping alligator lounged nearby, not a care in the world. He liked to remain close when I was outdoors and I figured he was better to have around than one of those yapping little furry creatures that humans seemed to love.

  I breathed in the thick air. It was warm and heavy and caused my clothes to cling to my body and beads of sweat to pearl across my forehead. That, at least, was a familiar feeling. The heat in the new world wasn’t all that different than the heat from fire breathing.

  The two human males were getting closer. They were both quiet, probably assuming they were approaching undetected. The smile of joyous anticipation that spread across my face arose from my deepest internal depths, a smile from the beast that I harbored—the beast that I was. The males had no clue what manner of terror they were about to encounter.

  Suddenly, Cezar’s annoying voice sounded in my head reminding me that we didn’t eat humans. Fuck. I kicked the stool away angrily. What fun was life without being able to flame and devour those who thought they could sneak up and catch you off-guard?

  Cezar and, well, all the dragons had adjusted to this place better than I had. They weren’t like me. They were babied, coddled, little fire breathing lumps. They’d learned and followed human rules and customs and didn’t seem to mind that we’d had to flee our own world, that we were forced to chill here, as Blaise always put it. I minded. I’d owned and presided over a vast territory in the old world. I’d ruled with such great power and might that—

  My thoughts were interrupted. The males, mere younglings from the scent, were edging closer still. I’d have plenty of time to finish my mental rant later. Right then, I had trespassers that needed to be dealt with.

  As if sensing the overwhelming predatory response in me, the alligator swung his tail and snapped his teeth before sliding effortlessly back into the water.

  I stood from my chair. Too bad. It was so comfortable I hated to leave it. Another reality of the human world. It encouraged laziness.

  I slipped into the swamp behind the alligator and positioned myself so I could see the young males when they got closer. They’d been wordless up until that point. For some reason, they waited until they were almost right on top of my home to break their silence. Hunters, they were not.

  “Sky is going to kill us, Casey.”

  “No, she won’t. She’ll have a shit fit and then she’ll get over it, like she always does. She won’t stay mad forever. She’ll cool off eventually.”

  “One of these days, she is going to stay mad. And then what? What do we do then?”

  “Then, we figure something else out.”

  “Something else?” The older male raised his voice. “You’re an idiot, you know that? There is no something else. She’s it. She’s all we got.”

  “Just shut up. We’re al
most there. Josh said that this is it, right up here, around the last bend.”

  “What’s the point of this, anyway?”

  “To see the swamp monster, duh.”

  “This is why I shouldn’t let you talk me into things. You sneak out and get us into trouble doing stupid childish shit like trying to see a monster in a swamp. Does it look anything like the Creature from the Black Lagoon? How old are you, anyway? Fourteen going on five?”

  “Oh, eat shit.”

  “You eat shit.”

  They were right in front of me at that point. I stepped silently in front of their boat, shielded by the cover of nightfall and dense vegetation. “You both can eat shit.”

  Both boys screamed as I lifted the boat out of the water like it weighed nothing. Then, I turned it over and dumped them out of the boat and into the dark, murky water. When they came up, they were still screaming. I tossed their boat towards the dock before picking them both up by the backs of their necks.

  “Just what the fuck are you doing in my swamp?”

  “Don’t kill us! We just wanted to come and see the swamp mon—uh—” The smaller male smelled like fear and urine, so I dunked him back into the water.

  “We’re sorry, m-mister. We’re sooo sorry. We’ll go. We’ll go right now and we won’t tell a soul! Not one single, solitary soul.” The bigger one was frightened, but he also scented of determination. He was the protector, although, from the sound of it, he’d allowed the smaller one to lure him into trouble.

  “Why did you come to my swamp?”

  The little one shivered. “My friend said that he saw a…a swamp monster.”

  I grinned, knowing my smile could in no way be interpreted as light and friendly. “You want to see a monster? You’ve come to the right place. I’ll show you a monster.”