by Jenika Snow
The BEARly Reluctant Grizzly
Bear Clan, 4
Jenika Snow
Contents
Synopsis
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue One
Epilogue Two
About the Author
THE BEARLY RELUCTANT GRIZZLY (Bear Clan, 4)
By Jenika Snow
www.JenikaSnow.com
[email protected]
Copyright © June 2019 by Jenika Snow
First E-book Publication: June 2019
Photographer: Wander Aquiar
Cover model: Shane MacKinnon
Cover photo provided by: Wander Bookclub
Editor: Kasi Alexander
Content Editor/Proofreader: All Encompassing Books
Proofreader: Read by Rose
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.
Uprooting my life, buying a cabin that was all but falling apart, and moving to the middle of the woods might not have sounded like the best idea, but to me it was almost perfection.
I guess that’s the perks of being an author … packing up and moving to anywhere in the world, because as long as I had a laptop, I was good to go.
What I didn’t expect during this new start was the man I’d hired to renovate my place—Asher, the bear shifting carpenter. He had me feeling things I’d never experienced before; things that excited, but scared, me.
Lust, desire, and all kinds of filth a girl like me probably shouldn’t be thinking about a man I didn’t even know, played on repeat in my head.
But there was more than just arousal where Asher was concerned. I knew it in my heart.
Here I was, in my twenties, never been with a man in any way, and all I could think about were these obscene things that made a certified virgin like me blush.
And when Asher showed up on my doorstep during a storm, soaking wet, looking feral, telling me he’d tried to stay away but couldn’t, I knew one thing for certain. These weren’t just idle feelings I was having.
This was what it felt like to be mated.
1
Asher
I didn’t hear my phone ringing over the hammering and the music echoing in my workshop, but I felt it vibrate in the front pocket of my jeans.
I set the hammer aside and reached in my pocket to pull it out. Looking down at the screen, I didn’t recognize the number and contemplated not answering. I didn’t want to be drawn out of my focus from restoring the boat, but something in me had me pushing the accept button.
“Yeah?” My voice came out gravelly and harsh, like the sandpaper I’d been using.
“Hello. May I speak with the owner of Blue Bear Ridge Restoration?” The older man’s voice came through the phone and I faced the barn door of my workshop, looking out at the thick pine trees that lined my property.
“Yeah, this is the owner, Asher. Who is this?”
“This is Mr. Blackwell, a real estate agent for Blue Bear Ridge.”
He was silent for a second, as if he wanted me to say something in response.
He cleared his throat and started speaking again. “I recently sold a piece of property on the outskirts of town, one that’s desperately in need of some TLC and restoration.”
Another moment of silence passed before I answered. “And you want me to do the restorations?” I turned and faced my boat, the calming feeling of doing mindless work calling to me. Today was a “day off,” and working on my boat was the only time I actually did something that was just for me.
“The owner, a Miss Ainsley Shepherd, specifically asked for your talents on the project. I informed her I would get in contact with you since she’s out of town and in the process of moving.”
I lifted my hand and scratched my jaw, the stubble on my cheeks making a soft scraping noise that filled my ears. “I’m pretty booked up this summer. I could see if I have any openings starting end of September though.”
There was a shuffling of papers, and then he cleared his throat. “Miss Shepherd will be moving in to the residence at the end of next week. She was really hoping that you’d be able to come out and give her a price estimate, and see about scheduling.”
Shit, an entire residence renovation would take a long time.
I should’ve said no, was about to even, because I did have a packed schedule, but something inside of me kept nagging, pushing. I felt my bear stir slightly, and I rolled her name around in my head.
Ainsley Shepherd.
Ainsley Shepherd.
There was this tingling at the base of my spine, this tightening in my muscles. It was as if a thousand ants were moving along my arms and legs, stinging, that burning pain consuming me. I began to get restless, walking back and forth in my workshop, this strange feeling overcoming me.
“Hello? Asher? Are you there?”
I cleared my throat and walked to the door of the workshop, breathing in the fresh air, taking it into my lungs. A breeze picked up and I closed my eyes, willing that wind to take away this foreign feeling in me.
I’d never felt anything like this before, and frankly, I didn’t care much for it. I was always in control, always had a handle on everything. I worked because that’s what I could do, because that was the only thing I could do. I’d all but given up on finding my mate.
I wasn’t like Oli and could leave in hopes of finding her out there in the world.
And I certainly wasn’t like Zakari and Maddix, with their mates all but falling into their laps as if fate had done the work for them. I’d grown bitter and resentful over the years, watching as my brothers found that happiness and peace, that completion.
And as time moved on, as I became even more isolated within myself, I came to the realization that being alone wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen to me.
Did I wish I had her, that one female that would complete me?
Yes, absolutely. But I also knew that moving forward and focusing on life was the only thing I could do.
And so, I just accepted this was my life now.
I restored, renovated, and worked. I helped my brothers out with the construction company when they needed it, but a lot of my time and energy went into my own business, into making old and depleted buildings shine with a new life.
Maybe I did that because I somehow saw myself that way, this broken house sitting and waiting for someone to bring me back to life, but always thinking that maybe, just maybe, this was how I’d die.
Depressing, but reality.
But this weird feeling, this sensation moved through me like a freight train. And although I should’ve told him no, that I couldn’t take this job, I already knew what I would say.
“Okay. I’ll be out there end of the week to take a look.”
Later that evening
I leaned against the banister and crossed my arms over my chest, watching as Oli and his mate disappeared into the forest. I grumbled to myself, and th
en heard Zakari, Maddix, and their mates laughing, which put me in a sour, jealous mood.
I was happy for my brothers, pleased they’d found their females. I’d long since come to the conclusion that I’d never find my other half.
As one of the oldest of the six of us, I figured I should have found my mate already. And seeing brother after brother find their happily ever after had hardened me, resolved me to focus on work and leave behind the hope that I’d ever be happy as well.
So, I worked my ass off doing home repairs, buying properties and flipping them. That was what I did, put my blood and sweat into creating perfection because I didn’t have that in my life.
And having my family was all well and good, but that didn’t make a bear shifter complete. Only my mate could do that.
I found myself even more pissy than before.
Cason and Damon stepped onto the deck, their presence drawing me out of my thoughts.
“We’re hitting up the bar,” Damon said gruffly. “All this mating is getting under our skin.”
Cason, the quietest one out of all of us, had a toothpick between his lips, his baseball cap pulled low, so it obstructed the view of his eyes.
“You up for going with us?” Case said in a low-pitched voice.
I looked back at the woods, continuing to hear Maddix and Zakari with their mates, and nodded.
“Yeah, I need to get the fuck out of here, too.”
Finding a mate was overrated ... at least that’s what I told myself because the very idea that I’d always have this little piece of myself missing was just too fucking painful to even think about.
2
Ainsley
The drive up to my new home, located in the picturesque little mountain town of Blue Bear Ridge, Colorado, was long, but beautiful. The narrow roads, the isolation, this was exactly what I needed, what gave me inspiration.
I turned up the volume on the radio, tapping my fingers along to the old country song, feeling as if this weight was being lifted off my shoulders the closer I got.
Sure, the house needed some serious work, was almost uninhabitable, but I loved it. It was on five acres of wooded land, and there was even a creek that ran right through my backyard. It was gorgeous and serene.
My phone started ringing and I hit the little phone button on my steering wheel.
I heard my father muttering to the dogs through the Bluetooth and couldn’t help but smile.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, focusing on the road, the twisting, narrow turns having my heart race. This kind of driving was far different than the city driving I was accustomed to, that was for sure. I saw a break in the trees, a massive cliff coming into view, a large lake at the base. I was getting close to town.
“Hey, sweetie. How’s the drive?”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “It’s beautiful. Exactly what I needed.”
“Good, I’m glad everything’s going well. Your mother wanted you to call her when you get there. She’s out to lunch and you know how bad cell reception is in the valley.”
I nodded again, then chuckled softly. “Oh yeah. Tell her I’ll call her when I get to the house and am settled. And when it’s all fixed up and looking good, I’ll have you guys out to see the transformation.”
“Are you sure you don’t want us to come out there and help you?”
My parents were older, having had me when they were in their forties, a surprise first child they hadn’t thought they could ever have. And now, twenty-four years later, I couldn’t imagine having them out doing manual labor. There was a very real fear that they would injure themselves, and it made me anxious.
We talked for a few more minutes about pretty mundane things, a few laughs and reminiscing thrown in, a clear indication my father was having a hard time with me moving away.
“I’ll talk to you later, honey. The dogs are going crazy because the mailman’s here.”
After we got off the phone, I turned the radio back on, picturing all the things I wanted to do to the house, how I could make it my own. I had not even been to the house before I put the offer in, feeling this knowing pull instantly.
It was home.
My home.
And it didn’t hurt that I got so much inspiration from this place, from everything that surrounded that old log cabin.
Being an author meant I could just pick up and move if I wanted to, that my job was wherever I was, laptop in hand. Whether that be a coffee shop, my bedroom, or this brand-new piece of property, that’s where my work was. I loved every moment of it.
So, after three years of being able to write full-time, I decided to leave the city and come back to the small mountain town. We’d lived here at one point, when I was young, those memories never fading despite my young age.
And although it had been a short residence, my mother and father wanting to see if living out in the country—so to speak—was the best way to raise their child, it became abundantly clear they couldn’t make it work. Not financially at least.
But I’d loved this town, had always thought about it, always saw myself coming back here one day. And when my writing career took off, I made that my reality.
So here I was, three years after penning my first thriller story, buying an old-ass house situated on rustic acreage, and living my best life.
It was another twenty minutes of driving down some scarily tight roads before I finally turned off on a little dirt lane that would lead to where my property was. My Jeep Cherokee was packed full of supplies, but thankfully I’d had the moving company bring over the majority of my belongings the previous week.
When I finally saw the house, my heart did a little jump. It was decent looking on the outside, a two-story cabin which fit well with the scenery, and a small porch out front. But it was old, nearly seventy years old, to be exact, and despite it being in his family for a couple generations, the owner had decided to move. And because of the state of the place, I’d gotten a really good deal on it, even with the five acres.
But it was clear the previous owner hadn’t cared two shits about how he took care of the place. Almost everything needed replaced, including all the appliances—a matter which I hoped had already been addressed.
There were some solar panels, a propane tank that was in decent condition, but aesthetically the house needed lots of work. So that’s where Blue Bear Ridge Restoration came in.
I remembered seeing the owner of the company back when we lived in town, although it was in passing. But I do remember hearing the stories of him and his brothers, bear shifters who lived as recluses high up in the mountains. Although I probably could’ve found several other companies who could have helped with the renovation, there’d been this nagging feeling at the base of my skull that drew me to his company.
Maybe it was because he actually worked in town? Maybe it was because I “knew” him? But it was still such a strange sensation, and so I asked the real estate agent specifically for Asher’s company to do the remodeling. It had been a shot in the dark, given the fact it was such short notice, but when I got the call that Asher would do it, I felt this calmness fill me, a sensation that this was exactly what was supposed to happen.
The gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled into the driveway, seeing a big pick-up truck parked in front of the garage. Blue Bear Ridge Restoration was painted on the side of the truck and I found myself curling my hands tightly around the steering wheel involuntarily.
I didn’t know if I liked the way I felt. But I pushed it off to this being a new experience, that I was out of my element, and all the things that went with that.
After putting the Jeep in park and cutting the engine, I climbed out and headed to the back, opening the passenger door and grabbing my backpack. I had all my writing stuff in it: laptop, notepads and pens, and an inspiration trifold mini-board that I used for my current work in progress.
I then lifted a box with some food—canned goods, boxed foods, and other nonperishables. I needed to head to th
e grocery store in town and get some actual stuff, some healthy stuff. Fruits and vegetables, and the essentials: coffee, wine, and chocolate.
I adjusted the backpack on my shoulder and made my way inside. I took the few steps it required to get on the porch, one of the things about the cabin that needed a major overhaul. In fact, I wanted an entire wraparound deck; that way I could get all the angles of the house and scenery, even look at the creek and hear it trickling down the mountain as I wrote.
I held the box between my arm and body and reached out to open the screen door. It was rickety and squeaked as I pulled on it. The main door was already open, and I stepped inside, the musty scent of the house not having been aired out for a while, with an underlying hint of pine, filling my head.
I heard the sound of a tape measure being opened and snapped back in place.
Opened and snapped back in place.
I couldn’t see Asher, but I felt this nervousness start to fill me. I walked into the kitchen and set the box and my backpack on the breakfast island. I turned and faced the living room and really looked around, taking in my new home.
This was the first time I’d actually been here, that I’d actually stepped inside my new cabin and looked around. Buying this place seemed so spur of the moment, a drop of the hat kind of thing, but I just felt it was right, that it was for me.
The lower floor of the cabin was one large room, with the kitchen off to the left and the living room to the right. A massive stone fireplace was right across from the kitchen island, one of the major selling points for me because it was gorgeous, and I could picture myself sitting in front of it on a cold winter night.
