ROMANCE: Military: SEALED BY APACHE (Military Soldier Navy SEAL Romance) (Alpha Male Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Short Stories) (63 page)

ELIAS’

BABY

Paranormal Shifter Romance

By

Ella Hart

CHAPTER ONE

Hailey knew as soon as she walked into the dorm room that she would not get along with her roommate. Hailey's friends back in California all described her as fun, boisterous and outgoing. She was a typical type-a personality. She had a loud voice, loved to sing, and had a take-charge attitude people couldn't ignore.

She was hard to ignore physically, as well. She was tall and curvaceous. Men had always complimented her on her body. She wasn't a stick-thin supermodel type, she was big. Well-proportioned with curves in all the right places.

She had to work hard at it as well. She swam almost every day and her legs had the muscles to show it. But her size was always a nagging source of self-consciousness in the back of her mind.

No matter how boisterous and bubbly she was, sometimes she felt less than perfect. But she figured everyone felt that way at some points in their lives, so she tried not to let it consume her.

"Hi, I'm Hailey," she said after standing in the doorway and surveying her roommate for a second. Where Hailey was colorful, her roommate seemed stark. She was the complete opposite of Hailey in every way, and the disgusted look she had on her face almost made Hailey angry, but she held it in.

"My friends call me B, but you can call me Beatrice," she said. She had straight black hair cut to a bob at her chin and all of her clothes were neutral and dim. They were hanging in an open closet, pin straight and neat. Hailey looked down at her paint smeared jeans with a hole in one knee.

"Okay, Beatrice," Hailey said. She pulled her suitcase into the dorm room and started to unpack. Most of her clothes had paint stains on them, and the first thing she did after unpacking her clothes was to take her easel out and set it up beside her bed.

"You don't plan on painting in here, do you?" Beatrice asked with disdain.

Hailey turned around and stared at her. "This is an art school, of course I'm going to paint in here."

Beatrice made a face and turned away.

"Are you a graphic artist or something?" Hailey asked, but she didn't even see a computer. Just an iPhone and an Ipad laid out neatly on her desk.

"Performance," Beatrice replied.

"Okay," Hailey answered. Beatrice stood up and pulled a flyer out of the trash can. It was the only thing in the can, but she still gripped the edge like it was contaminated. Hailey rolled her eyes.

"It's against dorm policy to paint in here. You have to request studio space. I think it fills up quick though, better be fast," she said and left the room. Hailey looked down at the flyer and saw that Beatrice was right.

Printed on the font was a welcome message with some bulleted rules. The list of rules was short, but it did say painting in dorm rooms was prohibited.

When Hailey logged in to the online studio booking system it said studio space was full for the semester. She growled in irritation. This was an art college, how was she supposed to paint if there wasn't anywhere to put her supplies?

She spent an hour tidying her side of the room as much as possible. As distasteful as Beatrice was, she didn't want to start off on too much on the wrong foot. Although she felt like if she cleaned this tiny room all day it could never be up to Beatrice's exacting standards. Then Hailey sat down and browsed the university message boards, looking for studio space. Just as she was about to log off and go down to the main campus hall to meet some classmates a new message popped up.

"Looking for Saturday night bar staff. Applicants must be self-motivated, learn quickly, and be able to hold their own. Saturday evenings from 6pm to midnight. $30 per hour, including hazard pay. Very small attic rental room available, free of charge, to the right applicant. Come to The Woodlot Bar and Grill, mile marker 256, Route 90. Good luck."

"Hazard pay?" Hailey muttered to herself. She wondered what kind of bar work could need hazard pay. But she jotted down the address anyway and left her room.

Upstate New York was much different to Texas where she grew up. Where her part of Texas was flat and dry, New York was mountainous and lush. The road dipped and rose with the hills. At the crest of the mountains, Hailey would slow down and marvel at the expansive view of trees and mountains spreading into the distance on every side. The trees were starting to turn for fall, and the tops of them were painted with shades of yellow, orange and red.

After about a half hour she reached mile marker 256 and slowed down, searching both sides of the road for the bar. There was nothing in sight, not even electrical wires, which had stopped abruptly several miles back. She had passed a sign about 15 minutes earlier saying the road was entering a preservation zone, but it didn't say if it was a state or national park, and she hadn't recognized the insignia. And then there was the sign that made her almost consider turning around. It read "Warning: Bears", with the silhouette of a menacing looking black bear.

Finally she spotted a dirt road, the only one around, and turned down it. She bumped along for what felt like forever and then it opened up into a rustic looking bar. It was an enormous log cabin, with a wrap-around porch and large windows.

Hailey had obviously been climbing a mountain without realizing it, because the cabin was perched on the edge of the mountainside.

The views beyond were incredible. It looked more like a swanky ski lodge than a rural bar. As she pulled in further she saw it actually was it was a ski lodge, the lifts were stationary off to the side.

She exited the car and hesitantly walked toward the building. There were two motorcycles parked in the far corner of the lot, and she thought, with growing alarm, that no one knew she was here. She hadn't expected a mostly abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.

"Hello?" she called. A tall and broad man appeared in the doorway. He had slightly graying hair that rose in a curly fluff above his head. He wore a plaid shirt that stretched over his stomach and jeans with a leather vest over the top.

"Well hello!" he said. He was drying his hands on a towel. "What can I do for you?"

"My name is Hailey, I'm here to apply for the job posted online," Hailey said.

The man rocked back on his feet, still drying his hands. He looked her up and down, as if surveying her. His eyes travelled up and down her body, and suddenly Hailey felt like she was being inspected.

The man's eyes glistened, and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks when the corners of his mouth turned up in a devilish grin. He was practically devouring her with his eyes. For one of the first times in a long time, she felt small standing in front of this man.

She kept eye contact with him, even though she knew her cheeks were probably a little pink from the intense scrutiny he was giving her.

"Nice to meet you Hailey. I'm Patrick. I own this place." He said. He was quiet for a moment, still inspecting Hailey, drinking her in with his eyes. "Do you work out?" he asked finally.

"What?" she replied. It wasn't the question she was expecting.

"You know, exercise. Would you be willing to learn some self-defense techniques. If you don't already know them, that is," he replied.

"Yes. I suppose I would. And I swim," she replied, a little confused.

"Good. Ever seen a fight? I mean a real fight, up close and personal," he asked.

Hailey was growing more and more confused. "I was raised in foster care, so yeah. I've seen a few fights."

"Okay," he said after a few moments consideration. "Come back Saturday around five and we'll get you started." He turned around and went back inside then closed the door.

Hailey stood there, dumbfounded. But when she realized he wasn't coming out again, she got back into her car and drove back to campus.

CHAPTER TWO

On Saturday Hailey woke up filled with nervous agitation. She got herself a coffee at the library cafe and chose a corner table, one near the large windows that overlooked the main lawn.

She tried to study, but her mind was too distracted. She kept thinking back to the strange way Patrick, the bar owner, had looked at her. She hoped he wouldn't be there tonight.

Hailey looked out the windows of the library cafe. Tall maple trees lined the expansive lawn and students were milling around, some were sitting on the grass beneath the trees, which had started to turn red and orange.

Hailey couldn't help but think it was a beautiful campus. Upstate New York was so different to California. She felt comfortable here in a way she never had there.

She never had a family; her parents gave her up for adoption when she was a baby. But due to health problems early on in life, she was never actually adopted. Instead, she grew up in foster homes all over the state of California.

Whenever she moved, she always thought maybe the next family would finally love her. Finally adopt her. But that never happened.

She turned 18, graduated from the system, and moved here. She received enough scholarship money to cover her expenses.

There were hundreds of scholarships available to children who had been in foster care and wanted to go on to college. She did want some day-to-day money of her own, and there was that ever important studio space the bar job offered.

Around three o'clock Hailey left the library and grabbed a quick lunch before heading back to her dorm room to shower and get dressed.

Luckily, Beatrice wasn't in the room, to make any rude remarks. Hailey spent half an hour trying to choose her clothes.

She was having one of those days where nothing felt comfortable on her. She hesitated to call them "fat days" because she hated how that sounded.

Finally she settled on a black shirt, a pair of jeans and knee high black boots. The boots didn't have a heel, she didn't need to add any more height.

The shirt was fitted, but not too tight. It came down into just enough of a V-neck to show a little cleavage, but not enough that she felt slutty. She went a little more heavy handed on the make-up than she usually would, outlining her eyes with black eye-liner and even putting on a pair of false lashes. And she wore her blonde hair loose; it cascaded down her shoulders to the middle of her back. When she was finished she looked in the mirror and was satisfied. She looked the part, and she even felt a little hot.

The drive to the bar seemed shorter this time, now that she knew where she was going. She pulled down the rutted driveway and this time the parking lot was filled with dozens of motorcycles.

There were probably 50 or more. She parked to one side and sat in the car for a few minutes. She had never seen so many bikes in one place. There was a group of men gathered by the door.

Most of them wore leather vests and had tattoos covering their arms. Her heart was racing in her chest. She usually felt confident enough to hold her own in any circumstance, but suddenly she felt a little out of her depth. She took a deep breath and then stepped out of the car.

The men watched her walk toward the bar. She supposed they didn't see many new faces in a place like this. She felt like covering her body, like their eyes could see through her clothes, but she squared her shoulders and climbed the steps.

"Hello boys," she said confidently as she passed, and she heard one of them chuckle. She turned and he met her eyes. She felt her heart race.

To say he was good looking was an understatement. He was tall and muscular. Not quite as broad as the other men, but large all the same. He wasn't as tattooed, but she could see the dark lines of at least one sticking out from under the sleeve of his shirt.

He had dirty blonde hair that was a little long and messy, and his eyes were an intense blue that seemed to shine in the night. He was grinning at her, and his smile made her lower stomach curl with excitement. She wanted to press her legs together to tease the feeling out more. Or better yet, press herself against him. She felt a warm glow rise to her cheeks at the thought, and instead turned away and stepped through the door. She hoped to herself that she would see him again soon, but for now she had to attend to her new job and make a good impression on her first day.

Inside was even more intimidating. There were dozens of men gathered around tables, playing pool, and standing at the bar. She only saw a handful of women, one of them was behind the bar serving drinks. She had black hair piled high on top of her head and wore bright red lipstick. Hailey stepped up to the bar and introduced herself.

"Hailey!" the woman exclaimed. "Of course, come behind here, I'll show you the ropes. I'm Claudette, Patrick's old lady. He told me all about you," she winked. Hailey blushed like she had done something wrong.

"Is he here?" she asked, hoping Claudette would say no.

"Where else would he be? He's in back," she pointed toward a door behind the bar that presumably led to "the back". Hailey dreaded to think what went on back there and made a mental note to never, ever set foot through that door.

Claudette showed her around the bar. Hailey worked as a waitress back in California, so she was familiar with most of it. The only thing she wasn't familiar with was the crowd. Claudette flirted with them easily, and seemed to have known all of them forever. She pointed some of the men out, telling Hailey which ones to watch out for. A few could get a little "touchy feely" when they had too much to drink.

Finally, Claudette poured a shot for Hailey and one for herself.

"You're allowed to drink while you work?" Hailey asked, surprised.

Claudette laughed. "It's liquid courage. Sometimes you need it with these guys," she said and downed her drink. Hailey did the same. It burned her throat and warmed her stomach, but Claudette was right. After a minute she felt more relaxed.

"Think you can give it a go? I'm going to take a break," she said.

"Yeah. But I might need another shot of that," Hailey answered.

Claudette laughed again, and poured two more drinks. "My kind of girl," she said with a wink, and then disappeared through the door behind the bar.

Hailey got along easily with most of the men, and they were nice, for the most part. There was a group of five men who stayed at the back, except to order more drinks, who gave her mistrusting looks. They barked their drink orders at her, and just stared at her while she was making them. One of them, a skinny man with greasy black hair, asked her to make a complicated sounding cocktail she had never heard of.

"Sorry, I think I'll have to go get Claudette to make that one," Hailey said in her most polite tone. The man sneered in response. He turned away and muttered something, but Hailey heard him say, "fucking idiot."

She lowered her eyes, abashed, suddenly feeling like this was a bad idea. Most of the other men had turned their eyes away, not wanting to draw this man's attention. But suddenly from the back of the bar was the one she had made eye contact with. He was striding through the crowd, moving with ease. He came up beside the skinny man and grabbed his arm.

"Hey buddy, if you don’t want any trouble, you should apologize to this young lady right away," he said sternly. His fingers were digging in to the man's arm so hard Hailey thought they would draw blood. The bar had gone quiet and everyone was averting their eyes. Everyone except Patrick, who was watching from the door of the bar with his eyes narrowed.

"Elias," he called, his voice bellowing across the room, "Let go of Jeff's arm". The man with the blue eyes, who must be named Elias, looked up. He shook his head a little, and then let go of Jeff, pushing him a few feet across the floor as he did. Jeff looked up, his eyes were burning with hatred. He moved forward like he was going to hit Elias but one of the other men stepped into his path. He backed down, and strode toward the front door. Hailey watched him and four other men leave. She heard their bikes roar to life in the parking lot and speed off down the road.

Hailey let out a deep breath. She realized she had been holding it. Finally someone started the jukebox up again, and slowly the life came back into the bar. Elias stepped forward and smiled at Hailey.

"Elias," he said, holding out his hand.

"Hailey," she said, taking his hand to shake it. When she did she felt a rush of electricity surge from his touch. She took in her breath, and the rest of the bar seemed to disappear as she looked into his eyes. He was staring at her with an intensity that was disarming, but she couldn't look away. She felt him slide his thumb across her knuckles and she shivered from the sensation. His hands were strong, powerful. When she looked down, her own hand looked tiny in his. In fact, she felt tiny next to him. She rarely felt small next to anyone in her life. He towered over her.

"Thank you," she said finally, "for defending me. He was rude."

"Yes," Elias said, his voice was a low seductive purr. Hailey felt her stomach twist with excitement. There was something about being near Elias that seemed to make her fire on all cylinders. He still hadn't let go of her hand, and she reluctantly pulled it away.

Elias sat at the bar in front of her for the rest of the evening. They spoke on and off, more as the night got later and the bar started to empty out.

"Are all of these guys driving home drunk?" she asked Elias eventually in a lowered voice. She suddenly felt complicit in their crimes, since she served them alcohol all night long.

Elias laughed, a low gravely chuckle that sent a fresh course of chills through Hailey's body.

"Don't worry, they can handle their alcohol," he said. And she guessed he was right. She had been serving alcohol all night long but she hadn't seen anyone act drunk.

Elias sat with her while she cleaned behind the bar, readying it for the next day. When an older couple who had been feeding the jukebox all night finally got up and exited the bar with the wave, Elias and Hailey were the only two left in the room. As the door shut with a jingle Hailey felt the tension and electricity in the room magnify. She only knew Elias a few hours, but she felt her heart race with excitement as he stood up and slowly came behind the bar.

"It was really nice meeting you tonight Hailey," he said as he walked toward her.

"It was nice meeting you too. Thank you for keeping me company all night," she said. "And thank you for defending me from that man."

"I would do it again in a heartbeat," he said. He stepped toward her, closing the space between them. Hailey could feel the warmth coming from his body; she could smell his cologne and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. She would normally be turned off by a man who smoked, but for some reason it thrilled her even more.

Elias was smiling down at her. He lifted a hand and placed it on Hailey's cheek. Hailey wanted to gasp at his touch. The feel of his skin on hers sent waves of pleasure through her body. And he was only touching her cheek. She wondered what kind of pleasure his touch would elicit on other places of her body. At the thought she blushed, and Elias smiled when he saw the flush of pink in her cheeks.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice a purr.

"Nothing," she whispered. Then said, "Everything."

Elias laughed and lowered his face to hers. His lips brushed hers lightly, and Hailey took in her breath. He nipped at her lower lip, and she moaned at the sensation it caused. The sound seemed to unravel him, because he growled, a low seductive animalistic sound, and pressed her up against the bar. He kissed her deeply, holding both sides of her face with his hands. She kissed him back and pressed her body against his.

Then Elias was ripped away. Hailey looked up to see Patrick standing behind Elias, his hand in a tight grip on Elias's shoulder.

"You’re harassing my girl. Get out of my bar," he roared at Elias, and pushed him toward the exit. He pointed, as if Elias had forgotten the way. "Now."

Hailey turned to see Claudette coming from the doorway behind the bar. Her make-up was streaked and smeared and her eyes were bloodshot like she had been crying. Hailey opened her mouth to say something, but the look Patrick was giving Elias made her change her mind. Patrick was looking at him like he wanted to tear him limb from limb.

Hailey, flustered and confused, grabbed her purse from below the bar. She was afraid of what was happening.

"I need to go," she said.

"Hailey," Patrick replied.

"I'm sorry, I really need to go. Thank you for the opportunity..." she then looked at Elias. He was at the door, just about to leave the bar, and he looked back at her longingly.

"I'll see you next week," Hailey said to Patrick. And rushed out the door in attempt to follow Elias, however, when she got outside he was nowhere to be seen.

She drove slowly back to her dorm room, aware that there might be drunk bikers on the road. On the short walk from the dorm parking lots to her building she thought she heard a sound from the bushes between the building and the beginning of the forest. In the light from someone's window, she swore she saw the lumbering figure of a black bear with bright blue eyes. She gasped and stopped, squinting into the darkness, but the figure was gone. She went into her building with one last look behind her shoulder, then she pulled the door closed and checked to make sure it was locked.