A Slice of Honeybear Pie (BWWM Paranormal BBW Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearfield Book 1) (6 page)

“And there never will be.”

At her touch, electricity spread across his skin.

“Wow,” Mina said, looking up at him with her huge brown eyes. “Do you feel this, too?”

“Yes,” Matt whispered, cupping her chin in his hand.

“What’s going on?” she asked, lips parted, eyes closed, stretching on her tiptoes up to reach his lips.

“You’re my mate, Mina. We’re destined for each other.”

“That’s what Harker told me. Said we were fated to be together forever.”

Matt smelled the men before he heard them. Gun oil. Saltwater. Fresh blood. He barely had time to curl himself around Mina before the front door burst in and the sound of gunfire roared in his ears. He felt the thumping of bullets against his flesh, like being struck with a hammer. He’d overstated his invulnerableness to Mina somewhat. Sure, bullets couldn’t kill him, but they still hurt like the devil.

Chapter 5

Bearly Survived

In one moment, Mina went from admiring the carved muscular chest of the man protecting her, fingers tracing the stark ridges where his muscles curved and dipped, to cowering in fear under him as the world exploded around her. Splinters of wood exploded all around her. The far window shattered into a thousand points of light. All of Matt’s beautiful, probably-hand-made furniture was destroyed in an instant. Mina should have been terrified, but instead she was furious.

How dare Harker come at her like this? She’d done everything he asked, had dieted for him, had changed her business into something cold and soulless for him, and it still wasn’t enough. The man had to find more beautiful things in the world to ruin, because he had under it all a very ugly soul.

The gunfire stopped. The air hung thick with smoke and sawdust. The smell of the guns was improbably foul, a chokingly putrid smell that Mina hoped wouldn’t linger long. Crouched under Matt, she couldn’t see the men but she could hear footsteps. The slow
clunk clunk clunk
of Harker as he approached. He’d always loved these ridiculous boots with silver heels, like a cowboy who’d struck it rich and just had to show off.

“Miss Brooks, are you hiding under all that hillbilly?” Harker said with a sneer so severe you could hear it in his voice.

“Just let me go, Harker. I don’t want to make trouble for you. Just take your men and get out.” Mina peeked around Matt, saw Harker and at least a dozen of his bald, smelly goons.

The man’s face twisted with anger. He was handsome—devastatingly so—when he tried, but when the real Harker surfaced his inner ugliness showed like a knife in a nursery. “You don’t tell
me
what to do!” he roared. “You’re nothing! Nothing at all! You don’t get to jeopardize the plan. Not you.”

“I’ll even give you the flash drive. You can take it, Harker. Just get out of here and leave us be. You’ll never see or hear from me again.”

“It’s a good deal, man. You should take it,” Matt rumbled, his voice shaking her bones.

“I’m not afraid of you, little bear.” Harker laughed. “You think you’re the first shifter I’ve met? The first I’ve killed? She’s my mate, not yours. We’re fated. I can feel it.”

“What kind of shifter are you?” Matt asked. He didn’t move, just kept himself as a shield between Mina and the men who would harm her. “I can smell you’re not human, but I don’t recognize it.”

Mina watched, peering around Matt, as Harker loosened his tie and shook himself free of his suit jacket and shirt. She remembered how she’d been amazed at his body, the sleek lines of his muscles, the smooth hardness of his flesh. But he’d always been cold against her. A man should be warm. A man should be caring. A man should be like Matt.
 

Harker’s face twisted, his nose elongating and then his face stretching forward to meet his nose giving him a bullet-headed appearance. His teeth multiplied and blurred as rows of razored fangs dropped into place. And then Harker’s eyes rolled over white as his skin took on a grubby gray color.

“Mina, do you remember what I said happened to my last girlfriend?”

“Of course, she died just before we met. A shark attack while snorkeling in Hawaii. You were really broken up about it.”

“The part I kinda sorta forgot to mention was that
I was the shark
.” Harker’s body shifted and swelled, his legs remained man-sized and out of place with his bulging shark-shifter torso. He was part man and part shark and still a total jerk.

“Mina, get behind the counter,” Matt whispered to her. “When I move, get there. It’s a solid chunk of redwood. It’ll stop any stray bullets and flying bodies.”

“Flying bodies?” Mina asked, but then Matt was moving and she leapt for the safety of the standing counter, the kind of table her mother always called a “cooking island.” Her knees slid across the wooden floor slick with sawdust and splintered wood. Across the room, Matt blurred and leapt and a great golden bear came down heavy of three of Harker’s men. The entire house shook with the impact, dishes rattling off shelves, picture frames leaping off walls. Matt had spent so many years building the house, but she knew that he’d destroy it in an instant if it meant saving her.

The redwood counter shook and a body went flying over the top, spinning through the air. One of the goons. What could make you think it was a good idea to get into a fist fight with a magic bear? Did Harker pay them that much, or was the alternative a mysterious shark attack on dry land?

Matt roared at Harker and the shark shifter barked back with a choked, sputtering sound. Mina grabbed a shiny pan off the ground and held it so she could watch the fight in the reflection. The goons were all down or fled, now it was just the bear and the shark, facing off. Matt swiped at the gangster with his giant clawed paws and Harker snapped at the man’s limb, nearly catching it in his teeth.
No weapon forged
, but a shark’s teeth definitely weren’t forged. Could Harker hurt matt? Could Harker
kill
Matt? It was unthinkable, but here she was thinking it.

The two of them seemed evenly matched. Harker snapped his jaws forward, nearly missing Matt. Matt cuffed him across the head, but Harker didn’t even notice. It was up to Mina. She had to help. Matt couldn’t do it alone. What did he know about fighting? He was a backwoods attorney with an amazing body, a sweet tooth, and a stunning house that was half splinters. Harker was a killer. Harker was experienced. It was only a matter of time before Harker won.
 

Unless Mina helped.

She should have been terrified, shaking in her dress, whimpering and sobbing, but she was just mad. She’d done so much for Harker, and now he was going to do something for her. He was going to lose.
 

What did she know about sharks? She knew the obvious things—fish, flippers, total a-holes, not as cool as dolphins, the movie
Jaws
—but none of it seemed useful. She couldn’t exactly find a Sheriff Brody in the kitchen to help her out. She couldn’t stuff an air tank or whatever down Harker’s throat and then blow it up. She didn’t know if that’d work, anyway. Harker’s eyes rolled over white as he launched himself at Matt, knocking the big man across the room, landing on top of the bear and snapping at his face.

Smell. Sharks used smell to hunt. They couldn’t use their eyes, cause they did the creepy doll eyes flip-over-white thing. So they used scent to hunt. Mina dashed around the redwood counter, and rifled through Matt’s cupboards. As a chef, when she was in a kitchen she always paid attention to where things were. It was second nature, she didn’t even realize she was doing it. First she grabbed a large empty jar. Then she went to the spices, fishing out the cayenne and chili powder and especially the mace. She dumped all of it into the jar held her hand over the top, and then raced across the room to where Harker had Matt trapped in a corner. Matt was on his feet again, but had nowhere to move. He couldn’t even get a proper swipe in he was so boxed in by the room’s corner. Harker gnashed his teeth and chomped forward blindingly fast, again and again, getting nothing more than a mouthful of fur.
 

Matt couldn’t hold out much longer.
 

Mina ran up to Harker.

Matt saw her and shifted back to human form in the blink of an eye. “Mina, no!” Matt yelled, his eyes wide with panic.

Harker turned to face her, his massive shark head darting forward reflexively to take a bite out of her.

Time slowed down. Matt jumped at Harker to tackle the shifter. Harker slid through the air, eyes white, his jaws full of hundreds of triangular teeth stretching wide enough to swallow Mina whole. And Mina took her hand off the jar and tossed the spicy contents straight into the shark’s wide nostrils.

The effect was instantaneous. One moment there was a shark man about to devour Mina and the next Harker was rolling around on the ground, in human form, clawing at his face and screeching like a demon. Every cook at some point gets a little cayenne in her eyes, a little chili power in her nose. At the culinary academy, it was a standard prank to have the new students sniff unlabeled spices to identify them and you never forgot what it was like to get a nose full of fresh powdered mace.
 

Matt shifted again, the bear taking the place of the man one more. He swiped with one giant paw and Harker stopped screeching and kicking. The shark’s body was still.
 

It was over.

Mina threw herself on the big fuzzy bear and sobbed with relief. It was over. It was finally over. No more running. No more living in fear of Harker. No more bending herself to his will and dieting and playing along out of the misguided notion that he was the best she could hope for.

The fur under her cheek shifted and suddenly she found herself cradled in the airs of a very sweaty, very hot, very naked Matt. He kissed the top of her head and held onto her for as long as he could.

Chapter 6

Bearly Begun

While Matt swept up broken glass and bullets and shattered furniture from around the house, Mina busied herself in the kitchen. She'd promised the man a pie and Mina took her promises very seriously, especially when it came to baking.
 

The big insanely handsome man had calls to make before they cold relax and it was either bake, get in the way, or hide in a corner or fret. So of course it was honeybear pie time. Mina made the crust first. It wasn't her best effort, but she also didn't want to spend all day on it. She made the easiest crust she knew and placed the ball of dough, wrapped in plastic wrap, in Matt's freezer to chill. She balanced it on top of a stack of frozen pizzas and microwave burritos. When she moved in, all of this would be gone. No more frozen junk food, just honest cooking.

Were they mates? Were they fated? Or was this just an intense attraction that would fade in six months? She didn't know. Maybe it didn't matter? It felt amazing and Harker was gone, why not try something new? Her old patterns hadn't done her any good, had they?

On the phone, Matt argued with his brother Marcus about getting the windows replaced. Then made another call, to someone else, about dealing with the bodies.
 

Mina found the apples and sliced a disc out of one to taste it. Matt was right. They were perfect. Some artisanal blend. The hills of Northern California were lousy with them. Varietals you've never heard of, planted by people who didn't know they were supposed to graft apples, nit plant them, and ended up lucky anyway. She sliced ten apples into paper-thin discs, then tossed them in a large wooden bowl with flour and cinnamon and cloves and a hint of nutmeg. Then she found his honey in a high cupboard over the sink. It was in a giant earthenware jug that would have made Pooh Bear whine with jealousy. It must have weighed fifty pounds. There was no way she could move the jar. Heck, she could hardly reach it. The kitchen had been designed for a giant like Matt, not a woman like her. She'd need a step stool or a carpenter to make the kitchen usable. Thankfully the honey jar had a spigot, recessed but functional in the bottom edge of the jar. She held up a tablespoon and filled it with the glowing amber goodness.
 

Honey was tricky to cook with. You needed to be very careful when you sourced it. Under the sweetness, a refined palate could taste the notes of whatever the bees got into. Too often honey carried notes of heavy metals, of pesticides, of the weirdly beefy taste of fertilizer. Bees didn't care, but a person eating anything cooked with the honey could find themselves faced with a peculiarly sour aftertaste. Matt's honey was sweet and light, almost like corn syrup, with a complex earthiness like maple syrup baked in the sun. It was divine. Mina lost track of where she was for a moment, eyes closed, her tongue working its way up and down the spoon, finding every last drop of the sweetness.

When she opened her eyes, Matt was staring at her, an expression somewhere between ravenously horny and hypnotized by her hotness burning in his eyes. "Don't do that again," he warned.

"Do what?"

"Eat my honey."

"Is this a bear thing? Do your paws get stuck in the jar sometimes?"

"When you lick that spoon you are the sexiest thing I've ever seen and if you do it again I will take you right here on the floor but the floor is covered in blood and I don't want our first time to be like that. So please, no more spoon licking until I have all of this sorted."

Mina held up the spoon to her mouth and slowly stretched out her tongue. A deep growl rumbled out of Matt's throat and his eyes flashed golden for a moment. Maybe this wasn't the best time to tease him?

She filled a liquid cup measure with the honey and went back to her pie, tossing the apples in butter and honey until they were thoroughly and inextricably bound together. As Mina rolled out the chilled pie crust, men arrived. Wearing red jumpsuits and plastic face masks like a surgeon might wear, they went to work cleaning up the blood and bodies.
 

"Most of them escaped," Matt said to a stooped older man, half his size, with a heavy drooping white mustache.

"You got their leader. They'll never come back here again." He slapped Matt on the elbow, mostly because he couldn't reach his back. "You did good. Your dad would be proud."