Bloodrunner Bear

  He looked up from where he was folding a hose, dropped his gaze back to his task at hand, then jerked his attention back to her. “What are you doing here?” he asked so loud, his question echoed off the towering garage space.

  “I brought you and the boys a thank-you basket.”

  “Please tell me there are lemon bars,” Mark Trainor said as he and Bryant swarmed her like hungry seagulls. She’d gone to high school with both of them.

  “Of course there are lemon bars.” She handed over the basket, but snatched a box out before the boys laid waste to all the sweets she’d made them.

  “This one is for you,” she said, holding it out to Sexy Yeti.

  He shifted his weight from side to side, like a starving animal that debated the trustworthiness of her offered beef jerky.

  “She isn’t going to bite you, Aaron,” Mark griped at him.

  “Aaron,” she murmured, testing his name on her tongue.

  Around a bite of lemon bar, Mark said, “Yeah, you’re looking at the Aaron Keller of the Breck Crew.”

  “What?” she squawked, too loud. Her heart leapt into her throat. She eyed him and tried to match his face to the boy who had been all over the news when the bear shifters had first come out to the public. He’d been a little blond, wholesome, squeaky-voiced kid when his crew had first made national news. Now he was a tall, strapping, tatted-up beefcake on a Harley.

  Aaron angled his face away, his eyes hardening. Clenching his jaw, he took the offered box from her palm and ripped the lid off. He stared at the frosted bear-shaped pastry inside. “What’s this?”

  “This is my apology. The list…” She pulled it out of her pocket and showed him where she’d marked off number fourteen. “My sister made this list when we were in college, and I just kind of adopted it. She dated a shifter her sophomore year, a wolf. He was awful so she added it to the list. I just didn’t want you to think I was prejudiced against you.” Really, she’d been nipples-deep in guilt for the past couple of nights.

  “Hmm,” he said, nonchalantly.

  “Aaron Keller,” she murmured in disbelief. “I had a poster of you on my wall when I was growing up.”

  His eyebrows lowered over those clear blue eyes of his. “Why?”

  “Because you were just a little older than me when shifters came out. I remember where I was when I saw your uncle Change your aunt on television. I remember Cora Keller’s documentary on the news, and you were in it. And over the years, I would catch glimpses of you in interviews and pictures. I kind of watched you grow up, and you were hitting the milestones I was about to hit. Middle school, high school, driving. You were so…” Cute. Her cheeks heated and she ducked her gaze. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “Just so you know, wolves are assholes. Shifters aren’t all like that, though.”

  “I know.” Well, now she did.

  “I’m not looking for a mate.”

  Shocked, she jerked her gaze to his. “Okay. I’m not looking for…that…either. Not from you. I have a date tonight. And I’m moving out of state soon anyway. As soon as my lease is up on my café, I’m moving to Madison, Wisconsin. Or maybe Boulder, Colorado. I read this article on the top hundred places to live in the country right now, and those made top ten.” She was rambling so she clacked her teeth closed and swallowed her urge to tell this man her whole life story. Aaron Keller. Didn’t that beat all? Maybe she should get his autograph.

  “I’ve been asking you out for two years,” Bryant said, offended. “Who are you going on a date with?”

  “Someone from Asheville. I met him online. He looks very charming in his profile picture, and we are probably going to get married and have a dozen babies,” she teased.

  “Wow, you’re creepily optimistic,” Aaron said, his eyes narrowed to blue little slits.

  “There is nothing creepy about optimism.”

  “I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t go out with me,” Bryant said through a baiting grin, like the brute had ever shown any interest before now.

  Aaron snatched the list from her hand and pointed at number four. “She’s not into extra small dicks.”

  Alana laughed and clapped her hand over her mouth.

  “Aw, man that’s messed up,” Bryant said, shoving another lemon bar into his maw.

  “Some girls like little penises, Bryant,” Mark consoled him through a grin. “They think they’re cute.”

  “Stop it,” Bryant muttered.

  “It’s like a ’lil belly button.”

  Bryant snatched the entire basket from Mark’s hands and told him to, “Fuck off.”

  “Come on, Alana,” Aaron said, handing her back the list. “I’ll give you a tour of the firehouse before you go.”

  Well, at least he wasn’t kicking her out straight away. She followed him to an open door on the far wall of the garage.

  “There’s the turnout room where we store our gear. That’s where we dress when the alarm sounds.”

  She peeked into the room, lined wall-to-wall with helmets, yellow fire suits, and gear. “And you get into the firetruck fully dressed?”

  “For the most part. We’re usually still pulling on a few things while we’re getting there.”

  When she turned around, she ran into the solid wall of his chest and bounced off. Damn, the man didn’t even move, but he did reach out and steady her arms so fast he blurred.

  “Whoo,” she said on a breath, squeezing his biceps as if she needed to use them to steady herself. A smile cracked his face as she tried desperately to make her hands stop squeezing his muscles. She wanted to bite his rock-hard pec, too, but something in her said Aaron wouldn’t enjoy that as much as she would. “You’re like petting an ice sculpture. You must work out a lot.”

  Aaron took a step out of her reach and chuckled, ran his hand over his longer hair on top as though he was self-conscious. He’d gelled it back, but now it flopped in front of his face. Alana clasped her hands in front of her to stop from brushing it aside. If he knew how big a super-fan she had been growing up, he would run for the hills. Shifters had been the rock stars for the rebellious youth, and Aaron had been a major player in the shifters coming out. She still had his poster in a box somewhere.

  “Why are you smiling like that?” he asked, his chin dipped to his chest.

  As if this tatted-up bad boy was actually having a shy moment. Come on. This man had probably banged shifter groupies by the dozen. Whoa, she didn’t like that thought at all.

  The smile dipped from his lips, and he canted his head, looking more animal than man with the expression he gave. “Now you smell angry.”

  “Not angry.”

  “Lie.”

  She’d forgotten about that little gem. Shifters could hear lies, but not that it mattered. She was the worst fibber in the history of the universe. He needed no heightened senses to tell when she was being untruthful.

  Pushing past him, she asked, “Do you sleep here?”

  “Uuuh,” he fumbled, following behind. “Yeah. I work a few twenty-four-hour shifts a week. More if they need the help. It’s not a big firehouse, but we help all the areas around here, too, so we stay busy enough.” Aaron jogged past her and held the door open and gestured her down a gray tile hallway. There was an office on the right where Fire Chief Janson was on the phone. He came into the café sometimes and was always nice to her. She smiled and waved, and he mouthed a greeting and waved back before he frowned at Aaron and went back to his phone call.

  “He’s not my biggest fan,” Aaron said low as he pressed his fingertips on the small of her back, guiding her forward.

  Her body was taken with a shiver that emanated from where he touched her all the way up into her shoulders. Embarrassed, she rushed her response. “Why not?”

  “I’m the new guy on the truck, and I’ve been having trouble following orders.”

  “Well, why don’t you just follow orders then?”

  “It’s complicated. Things are really
different here than where I’m from.”

  Alana looked up at him and tucked one of her wayward curls behind her ear. “Do you miss home?”

  Aaron opened his mouth, but closed it again. He looked troubled, scrubbed his hand down his jaw. “This is home now. I’ll get my footing soon.”

  And she’d seen it—the exact moment he closed down on her. Mysterious Aaron Keller, grown up so differently than how she’d imagined. He strode around her and sauntered off down the hall, leaving her to trail behind. His reaction hurt, but why should it? They were strangers, and he didn’t want to share. It wasn’t the end of the world, so why did him shutting down leave this sick, hollow feeling in her gut?

  With a steadying sigh, she followed Aaron to a big room with cinderblock half-walls separating six beds, each made neatly. “This is where we sleep, showers are in through there.” The kitchen and dining area were next. It smelled like spaghetti sauce. “We take turns cooking.”

  “You can cook?” she asked, pleasantly surprised.

  Aaron huffed a laugh, and she was again stunned by his smile. “Yeah, I do all right. Maybe not as good as you, though,” he said, lifting the box with the bear pastry.

  Relieved that his cold moment had thawed, she giggled and adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “I can bake, but I can’t cook a steak to save my life. My dad was always the one on the grill, and my sister and I always took care of desserts.”

  Aaron leaned against the wall near the kitchen. “What did your mom do?”

  “Uhhh.” Alana didn’t really want to drag the conversation into personal territory in the station, but Aaron was staring at her, waiting. Alana puffed air out of her cheeks and then explained, “She passed away when I was really young. I don’t remember her very well.” Alana shrugged and stared at Aaron’s shoes.

  “What happened?”

  “She was sick for a long time. It’s okay. I mean, it was so long ago, and I’ve dealt with it. My dad was an amazing single parent. He remarried a few years back. My sister and I were in the wedding and everything. I get along real well with my stepmom. It’s a little strange sharing my dad after so long having him to ourselves, but he’s really happy. He devoted his whole life to me and Lissa, and now it’s time for him to enjoy his life.”

  “I’m sure he enjoyed raising you and your sister.”

  “Yeah. It was hard for him on his own, though. He was lonely, and oh! My sister and I fought like cats and dogs when we were younger, and he always had to play referee. I’m glad he found his other half.”

  Aaron’s eyes had darkened to that sky blue she’d first seen in her coffee shop. “Yeah. His other half. Speaking of, why are you dating some doucheface from Asheville if you’re about to move?”

  “He’s not a doucheface, and I’m going out with him to see if he entices me to stay,” she said primly. Alana offered Aaron a flirty smile and turned, swished her hips, and made her way back down the hall that led to the garage.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Aaron said from behind her.

  As if she would deny this fine man anything. She hesitated at the open garage door and nodded. “Okay.”

  “What did you do with the paperclip?”

  The slow smile that stretched across her face felt good. Alana dug in her pocket and lifted the rusty old paperclip in the air for him to see. “I kept it, of course. It’s my good luck charm.”

  The smile lines on Aaron’s chiseled jaw deepened with his sexy grin. He crossed his arms over his chest, puffing up his bicep muscles, and rolled his eyes heavenward. He murmured, “I’m new to town…”

  “Uh huh.” She waited, excited about where this was going.

  “And I don’t know many people outside of my crew and the station…”

  “Uh huuuh.”

  He looked endearing as fuck as he bit the side of his lip and dragged it out. “So maybe I’ll stop by the coffee shop in the morning, and you can tell me how your date went with Doucheface.”

  “Oh, you want to be friends.”

  Aaron laughed and scanned the street, then leaned against the side of the garage and nodded. “Yeah, friends.”

  “I will be the best friend you ever had on one condition.”

  His eyes sparked like dancing blue flames as he lifted his gaze to hers. “Name it.”

  Through a teasing grin, she murmured, “Don’t fall in love with me, Aaron Keller.”

  His face went slack, and then he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple dipping into his muscular neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  Her bravado would only get her so far, and she would squeak an excited sound if she opened her mouth, so she offered him a small grin, turned, and made her way back toward the coffee shop. She forced herself not to look back. She would embarrass herself if she did.

  Aaron Keller had just offered her friendship. The Aaron Keller. He was so different than she’d imagined as a little girl, but in a good way. In the type of way that gave her butterflies and made her feel like she was floating with each step she took on the cracked sidewalk.

  When she reached her coffee shop, she couldn’t help herself. She had to peek back. Craning her neck, she looked around the trash cans and parked cars, and he was there, leaning on the side of the fire station, arms crossed and eyes on her. With an excited yelp, she waved her fingertips quickly and escaped inside.

  And as she pressed her back against the closed door, Alana was a hundred percent sure her heartrate would never settle down.

  Hang her date tonight—tomorrow morning couldn’t come fast enough.

  Chapter Five

  Alana had been tricked. Or catfished? Trey Langford was nothing like she’d expected. Online, he’d been polite, respectful, and wore a business suit in a professional looking picture. She wasn’t after a man’s money since she was perfectly capable of taking care of her own finances, but she was tired of dating boys instead of men. This was the trouble with dating at thirty. The good ones seemed to be taken, and the ones left in the dating pool were still single for a reason. And that reason, she’d found out over the last couple of years, was usually that they had the maturity of adolescent squids.

  Trey belched and continued on about himself. “So then I decided I didn’t want to work for the man, you know? So I quit my job, bought my business, and now I don’t have to answer to anyone. I wake up when I want, work when I want, take days off when I want.”

  Alana swallowed the bite of thin-crust pepperoni and mushroom pizza and feigned interest. “What do you do for your business?”

  “I restock vending machines. Sodas, snacks, candy, you name it. There is a need out there, and I’m filling it. Hospitals, bowling alleys, professional buildings…are you going to finish that?” He pointed at a slice of bread on her appetizer plate she’d taken one bite of.

  Alana tried to compose the disgust off her face but probably failed. Not that Trey noticed. He barely waited for her to nod her consent before he grabbed her bread and dunked it into the olive oil, herb, and vinegar mixture Dante’s Traditional Pizza Pies was known for.

  From the cozy front patio of the restaurant, Alana sighed and looked down the street at the fire station for the tenth time since dinner had started. It was lit by street lights, and one of the hangers was open. She could see the fire engine but hadn’t caught a single glance of Aaron. She wished she was sitting with someone else at this cute little two-seater table under Dante’s pergola. Someone blond, mysterious, and covered in tattoos. She’d been so excited about this date with Trey a few days ago, but after meeting Aaron, she’d been dreading it.

  Trey followed her gaze down the street, and Alana reminded herself there was just a little while left, and then she could go home and forget about this awkward night. She needed to at least give this guy a chance and anchor herself in the moment.

  “So what do you do?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off.

  “Because I have to tell you, if this goes any further, I’m not
really for supporting a woman who wants to stay at home with my kids. You’ll have to take care of them and work. And I mean you need to be bringing in a big income. I’m not into gold-diggers. I make good money, and I don’t want you thinking that’s all I’m about. I need a teammate. I have financial goals I want to reach and can’t do that on one income. I’m looking at early retirement, and if you think about it, settling down would put me even farther behind because we have to come up with retirement for both of us. Fifty-fifty sounds fair. Like tonight, I’m fine with paying for my meal, but you should have some pride and pay for your own.”

  Alana clenched her hands on her lap and barely resisted kicking his shin under the table. What a disgusting little troll. “I’d actually prefer to pay for the entire meal, Trey.” She lifted her finger toward the waitress for the check.

  “Really? In that case, I’m getting two desserts.”

  Alana unexpectedly giggled. She composed her face, but it fell apart again when she laughed louder. She started laughing so hard she covered her face. When she finally settled, she peeked through her spread fingers.

  Trey was all mussed brown hair, dopey eyes, and a slight grin like he thought she was laughing at something funny he had said. “What?”

  Alana gestured to Trey and shook her head. “It’s just…you! Trey, you can pay for your own desserts. Fifty-fifty and all. Is this really what you talk about on first dates? Finances? You called me a gold digger! Sir, I own my own business and don’t need your money. I accepted your offer of a date because you seemed nice when we talked online and on the phone. But it’s clear as crystal we aren’t compatible. I wish you huge luck finding a woman to put up with”—she circled her finger at him—“all of that.” She thanked Belinda for the check the waitress slipped onto the table, tipped her twenty-five percent, then slid into her cardigan and shouldered her purse. “It was nice to meet you, Trey.”

  “Well it wasn’t nice to meet you. Your loss!” Trey yelled as she made her way down the sidewalk. “Good luck finding someone to accept all of you. Your scar looks hideous!”