A Taste of Honeybear Wine (BBW Bear Shifter Standalone Romance Novel) (Bearfield Book 2) (6 page)

“Stolen by his accomplice,” she sneered, like she’d seen through his clever trick.

“That lockbox—well, we’re pretty sure an old family heirloom of ours is in it. Likely along with whatever is so precious to you. Your father came upon our heirloom and took it when it wasn’t his to take. Can’t fault the man for that, he didn’t know. My father had misplaced it after an accident in the woods. But your father, when alerted to the provenance of the pendant, declined to hand it over and swore he didn’t have it. And that’s just not right.”

“You can’t expect to hold
me
responsible for what my father did,” the woman said, but the fight was ebbing out of her. Marcus was giving it to her as straight as he could, and she could tell. He wasn’t lying or stonewalling and she respected that.
 

Michael wanted to interrupt, to give his side of the story, to issue assurances to Alison’s mom, but as his big brother spoke, his bear growled low and threatening, cowing Michael’s bear into submission. It was a trick that Marcus used often, speaking softly with his human voice while his bear—his terrifying bear—roared and growled and threatened.

Marcus folded his arms across his chest. “Not at all. I just hope that when we recover this box for you, you’ll do the right thing and hand over the bear pendant to us.”

She thought about it, worrying her lip with sharp white teeth as she considered the angles. Michael could almost see the wheels spinning, see her calculating her profit margins and risk. The woman was used to haggling, to negotiating. “If you return the box unopened, I will give you the pendant.”

“And drop all charges against my little brother.”

“No. He
exposed
himself to my Alison. Never.”

Matt coughed and waved from next to Marcus. He smiled his best charming smile at Alison and then shook her hand. “Hi there, am I to understand that your goal ultimately in Bearfield is to convert your grandfather’s residence into a place of business? A bed and brewery, I think your sister said?”

Alison nodded, clearly embarrassed to be addressed all of a sudden. Michael saw how her mother’s eyes narrowed with disappointment when she looked at her daughter, how the woman’s lips pressed thin and cold. “Yes, that’s right. I mean, that’s the goal. I think. Probably.” It was obvious that if she could have retreated into a cave at that moment, she would have. It took every ounce of willpower Michael had not to comfort her, to place an arm around her protectively, to defend her from the world.

“Y’know, I was just telling my
fiancée
here that this town could use a good brewery. The tourist trade in Bearfield in insatiable for quality cuisine. She’s in the middle of getting a bakery-slash-cafe up and running, and I think a little brewery with some delicious pub food—maybe venison burgers? Have you thought of that?—would be just the thing.” Matt’s stomach growled loudly, startling Alison’s mother. “But as much as our little town could use something like that, it would require permits and zoning hearings and all sorts of bureaucratic hurdles. Being on the mayor’s good side could help your business enormously. While being on his bad side, by say sending his little brother off to jail for five to ten years, could make operating any sort of business here rather difficult.” Matt smiled again, warmly, like he hadn’t just threatened to destroy the woman’s dreams.

“I don’t care who his brother is,” she interjected. “I want him locked away.”

“It’s not your call, Mother.” Alison’s voice was quiet but firm as she spoke, raising her eyes from the ground. “It’s my call. I’m the aggrieved party here. I can decide whether or not to press charges.” She looked Michael in the eye. He could see her pupils dilate with desire. He could smell the arousal on her skin. It filled him with a crazed hunger. His heart began to pound heavily in his chest, not any faster, just more intensely. His cock swelled in his pants, threatening to cause a scene if it reached full mast. He’d always favored tight jeans, but today was a bad day for them.

“Thank you,” Michael said, but what he meant was,
I love you. I just met you and don’t know you, but I love you and want to fuck you right now, even if that means doing it here on the ground with everyone watching
.

“I didn’t do anything yet,” Alison said, her wide mouth curling up into a smile. “I’ll drop the charges on three conditions.”

“Name them,” Michael said. Every time she spoke it was like soft fingers running down the small of his back. It made him impatient to be naked, to be with her, and above all to be naked with her.

“You have to get the lockbox back.”

“Of course.”

“You have to fix the broken window and help me clean up the house.”

“A big job, but sure.”

“And you have to take me with you when you look for the box.”

Chapter 4

Bearly Begun

“Absolutely not. I won’t hear of it. My precious daughter. Alone! With that sex criminal.”

“He hasn’t been convicted, Mother.”

It was the wrong thing to say. The wrongest thing in wrong town. But Alison couldn’t help herself. For as much as she was worried about losing the house, about her mother flipping out completely and disowning her on the spot, she had to admit that she was having
fun
. Being near Michael made her feel safe. She couldn’t explain it at all. He’d broken into her house butt-ass naked and maybe kinda sorta knew the creep who stole her mother’s lockbox. She should have been furious or terrified. But she wasn’t. She felt confident and in control. And she felt a delicious itch deep in her belly that somehow she just knew Michael was dying to help her scratch. Men like him didn’t go for women like her. But if she had the chance, she’d take it.

But first she had to get past her mother.

They were in front of what everyone claimed was the local police station, but which really looked more like some old house that someone had nailed a sign to proclaiming its official capacity. It gave the town a certain temporary feeling, like it was all an elaborate prop in some weird movie. Inside the house she saw desks and piles of official-looking paperwork. There was a woman who had the flinty stare of a lifelong bureaucrat, who no doubt ran the station herself, and the old sheriff seemed sincere enough, even if Alison suspected his dopey mannerisms were mostly an act. The old sheriff now leaned against a wall, trying to look anywhere but at Michael, who was in the back of the station getting a talking-to from his mountainous brothers. One of them, Matt, was dressed in a brown suit and kept clapping Michael on the shoulder like he was giving him a pep talk. The other, Marcus, glowered like he thought he could punch his brother with his eyeballs.
 

Marcus terrified Alison in a way that no man had ever scared her before. Looking into his eyes was like meeting the eyes of a predator. His glance said, “I’m not killing you right now only because I choose not to. But if you bother me at all I will disappear you and no one will ever find you.” Michael’s eyes were downcast. The man seemed to shrink under the glare of his older brothers. What would it be like to grow up with men like that? Michael was taller than most anyone, but next to his family he looked almost dainty. And as curvy as Alison was, just one of Marcus’ legs was almost larger than her. The man was like a moose or maybe a bear.

“Are you even listening to me?” Her mother’s voice cut in on Alison’s thoughts. She just wanted to stare at that pretty man, even if he was getting read the riot act.
 

“Not really, Mother. No.”

Her mother made a gasping sound and clutched at the pearls around her neck. Chloe, standing behind her mother, tapping away at her phone, flinched in shock. None of the sisters ever spoke to their mother that way. Ever.

“Keep it up, missy, and see if I let you keep the house. Just see.”

“You signed a contract, Mother. If I provide you with the contents of that lockbox, the house is mine. If I fail to, it’s sold off.” Her mother had been forcing contracts on them from a young age. Stipulating their duties and chores and expectations and what they could expect in return from her by way of financial support. Alison hadn’t even realized it was weird until she got to college and mentioned it in passing one gin-fueled night in the dorms.

Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Where is this attitude coming from?”

Where indeed? Alison was surprised how much she felt at home in Bearfield, after just one day. The mountain air was crisp and cool. Wisps of fog hung amongst the trees refusing to burn off completely.
 

“I guess this place just suits me. Look, Mother, I’ll be careful. It won’t be the first time I’ve hiked through the woods searching for some hidden treasure. I can take care of myself.”

“Creeping around looking for nuts and berries by yourself in well-mapped woods is very different than hunting for a thief with that scoundrel,” her mother said through pressed lips, like she was practicing to be a ventriloquist. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? Like you were a turkey dinner with all the trimmings.”

“He doesn’t,” Alison said.

“Oh yeah he does,” Chloe added with a wry tone, still focused on her phone.

“Shut up. He does not.” Alison’s face grew red and she wished she could shrink away from her mother’s terrible glare. “And anyway I’m sure he has a girlfriend, a guy like that.”

“That’s it!” her mother snapped. “You are taking Chloe along with you.”

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Alison said.

“I am
not
going into those woods. I had a dream about them. I can’t go in.” Chloe pitched her voice spooky and resonant but her mother just snorted past it.

“Last week you had a dream that if you did the dishes great disaster would befall you,” Mrs. Meadows crossed her arms in defiance. “You aren’t psychic, Chloe.”

“Yeah, but what if I am?”

So busy were the Meadows women with their family dynamics, falling into the well-worn grooves of arguments, referencing past incidents and grudges by code name or vague gesture, that they failed to notice Matt and Michael emerging from the police station until the two large, handsome, stupidly charming men were in their midst.

“We’re ready to go if you are,” Matt Morrissey said, tipping an imaginary hat to Alison and then bowing slightly to her mother. “I’ll drive you as close to Rook’s Roost as I can, and then you’ll have to go on foot. But don’t worry,” he winked. “My little brother knows these woods like a bear.” Michael stood behind Matt, his eyes downcast. He was like a student who had been reprimanded by his teacher and was now making an extra special show of being the model of good behavior, but on him it just looked sarcastic.

Mrs. Meadows poked Matt in the chest. “I don’t like this, but I don’t think I have any choice in this matter. My daughter has outmaneuvered me. But if anything happens to her I will find you and destroy you. I will pull down every stone of this podunk small town with my bare hands and salt the earth. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Michael said from behind his brother, his voice a quiet rumble.
 

“And for godsakes boy, keep your pants on.”

Alison couldn’t bear it. She was going to melt into a puddle of embarrassment right there. They’d have a funeral for her and her sisters would talk about her passing in hushed tones.
Oh, Ali? You didn’t hear? She died because Mom told the hottest man in the world to keep his hands to himself and his pants on.
 

“Yes, well, daylight is burning!” Matt said brightly. He opened the doors to his Jeep and ushered Alison into the passenger seat. Michael climbed into the rear and Matt swung himself up behind the wheel. “Bye,” he waved to Mrs. Meadows. “Oh and don’t bother calling, all of the far valley is a cell phone blindspot. See you later!” His
fiancée
, Mina, ran over and gave him a steamy kiss and whispered something in his ear. Matt blushed a deep red and smiled sheepishly. “Okay, love, well I I will definitely hurry back for that.” And then they drove out of the parking lot and into the sunny, cold Bearfield morning.

“When was the last time you were in the Roost?” Matt asked his brother.

“It’s been awhile,” Michael said from the back seat. “I don’t know how long. Years? Probably years.”

“Just remember, don’t make any deals. Don’t agree to anything, and whatever you do, don’t swear any oaths or shake hands on anything. The ravens take that stuff super seriously.”

“Ravens?” Alison asked.

“The people in Rook’s Roost, some of them are raven-blooded shifters.”

“Matt!” Michael said in the same tone he would have used if his brother had shown her embarrassing baby pictures.

“I’m sorry, what?” Alison found herself hypnotized by the view. The expanse of the woods was breathtaking. It was too easy to think of a forest as one thing, like a giant blob of green on a map. She knew better. As a botanist it was like a never-ending treasure chest, like a dragon’s hoard of riches. “Shifters?”

“Oh yeah,” Matt said amiably, “Rook’s Roost is the next town over, basically. Though legally it’s in Bearfield proper, we generally leave them alone. They’re on the slightly skinnier, slightly pointier mountain behind ours.”

“No, I get that,” Alison said. “But
shifters
?”

“You saw it,” Michael said, leaning forward between the seats to speak to her. “That man who stole your lockbox. He changed into a raven.”

“That’s impossible,” she said. But was it? Her memories were vague, like they had been smudged on the canvas of her mind before they had a chance to dry. “I remember that skinny man with the black hair and the nose. He had the box. He was in the window. And then all I recall is a raven flying off with the box.”

“The magic can be hard on your mind,” Michael said, his voice hushed with concern. “You’ll get used to it.”