Sam (BBW Bear Shifter Wedding Romance) (Grizzly Groomsmen Book 2) (42 page)

“Wow, that’s fascinating.” She scribbled notes quickly. Lifelong friends, went into business together and found success. That could be a good story. “What made you want to live together?”

He shrugged. “Convenience. When we started looking for land for the facility, we found this place. It had been some sort of farm and the building housed chickens I think. The house was here and it was big enough. None of us were tied down with families or anything and we were pretty young. We figured, since we were working together and had to be here so much anyway, it made sense.”

“But you’re not related? Not even fraternity brothers or something like that?”

“I think Slade was in a frat. Dax, maybe, but I don’t know because we didn’t go to school together. Beck and Knox didn’t go at all, but they’re related. Brothers, like I said.”

“Right.” She nodded. “And none of you are… lovers?”

He pulled his eyebrows down and leaned back an inch. “No.”

“Never know.” She winked. “All these men, living together. Nothing wrong with a little action after work.”

He took in a deep breath. “Well, no. We’re all straight.”

She nodded and jotted this down. So it was a bachelor house. “None of you are married now?”

“No. A few serious relationships, maybe. Like I said, Knox’s girlfriend Jasmine lives here. But Beck just broke up with someone and Slade and I are single.”

“The eternal bachelors?”

“I sure hope not. I’d like to have a family one day.”

She caught his eye and gave him a genuine smile. He’d make some beautiful babies, that was for sure. And a smart businessman, too? He was a good catch. Maybe she’d even consider casting her own line out. Her earlier idea of sleeping with him to get closer and get insider information wasn’t out of the question. Or maybe she’d just sleep with him for fun. Either way. She couldn’t go wrong.

She decided it was worth a shot. “Would you maybe want to go out for coffee sometime?” She smiled at him again, her heart fluttering slightly as he considered.

Then he broke into a smile. “Are you going to write about that, too?”

“Not unless the coffee suddenly explodes and you jump in to save me and put out the flames.”

He chuckled. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. Coffee. When?”

“When are you free? Later this week?”

“Sure. You have my card. Let’s make it Friday. Call me with a time.”

“Okay. I will.” She smiled again and stood, smoothing her skirt down. “Thank you so much for your time, Amir. Can’t wait for Friday.”

He walked her to the door and stood there, watching her drive away.“How’s that story on the Ozark moonshiners?” Davis asked Thursday morning.

Kora sighed. “Well, if you mean the story about the charming businessmen living together like brothers to run their dream business of making and selling honey and honey-related products, it’s going great. Finding nothing illegal, though.”

“Gotta be something.”

“I’m still on it. Having coffee tomorrow with one of the men. But, I’ve toured their place. There’s nothing there. No place to hide a whole distillery, at least.”

He knocked on her desk. Why did he always do that?

“Keep on it. I have faith in you.”

That Friday, she sat across from Amir in a local coffee shop. She watched him pull a small bottle of honey from his pocket to put in his coffee.

“Are you just that sweet that you carry honey on you?” she asked, smiling at him over her cup.

He laughed. “I guess I’m slightly biased. I like our stuff the best. And I never drink coffee without honey, so I have no choice but to supply my own.”

“Or convince the owners of the shop to only have Bear Natural Honey available for their customers.”

“Now that,” he said, pointing at her, “is exactly why I’m in quality control and not sales. That’s something Dax would think of. I should suggest that, actually. Even if we gave them honey or gave them a deep discount. It’d be like giving out free samples.”

“Exactly.”

He took his phone out from his pocket. “Excuse me one second. I want to text this to Dax. He’s better at doing the actual talking.”

She waited until he put the phone away. “You seem pretty smooth with words yourself.”

“Do I? Years of my father’s coaching, I suppose.”

“Did you grow up in this country?”

He took a sip of coffee and nodded. “I did. My parents came from Iran years before I was born. But that didn’t stop my father from putting me through the best schools and making sure I knew all about my middle eastern heritage.”

“That’s important, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes, absolutely. Until they expected me to live as they wanted instead of living my own life. If it were up to them, I would have been married years ago to the woman they chose and working with my father in his accounting firm.”

“But you didn’t want to do that?”

“I’m not into numbers like that. Though, his firm does do a lot of our accounting. You should call him, maybe. For your story. He could validate our numbers.”

“That might not be a bad idea. But you know”—she leaned forward, closer to him—“it’s the stories of illegal stuff that really sell.”

“Sorry I can’t help you there.”

“You don’t happen to have any honey rivals or anything?”

“Oh sure, there’s always competition in business.”

She nodded and glanced down at her recorder. The green light still blinked. Not that he was giving her anything good.

“So, what about you? Did you always want to be a reporter, or did your parents force you into it?”

“Reporting found me, I think. I started out writing stories about my stuffed animals when I was a kid and investigating anything that happened around the neighborhood. A house gets toilet papered, a car tire is slashed, a bike is stolen. But when the local paper did a story on me and all my little stories—I’d actually managed to give some valuable information to the police one time—that’s when I really fell in love and knew I had to become a reporter. The truth needs to be out there, you know? People deserve to know what’s going on around them.”

“You don’t believe in keeping any secrets?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not if it concerns the community or could affect people.”

“That must be difficult.”

“What?”

“Getting people to give up all their secrets.”

She winked. “It’s not as hard as you think. Wouldn’t you want to tell me all your secrets?” she asked in a playfully flirty voice, then laughed.

“I don’t know.” He let his gaze roam over her. “Maybe.”

“So you do have secrets, then?”

“Just one.”Kora paced in her office, thinking. She hit play again on her recorder and listened to their conversation. The one about having secrets. He’d admitted to having a secret. That had to be something with the business. He was giving her a hint. The look in his eyes when he’d said it. Almost like he wished he could tell her.

She had to find out more, had to see what his secret was. Maybe if she snuck back to the house in the middle of the night, she could break into the facility and find something. Was there a basement in the building? Only one way to find out, right?

That night, she dressed all in black and tied her dark hair back into a ponytail. She had her phone charged, her pocket flashlight tucked away, and her recorder ready. She parked down the road a little ways and traipsed through the woods beside their driveway, staying in shadows and out of sight. Who knew what their schedule was or how late they stayed up? It was almost 2 a.m., but to someone running their own business, that was an early night if you had paperwork to do.

When she got closer, she saw that there were no lights on in the house. The facility, too, was dark. She crept closer and watched from the trees. There was a figure outside the processing facility. Was it one of the men?

As she watched, she thought the figure looked too small to be one of the men. She’d only met a few of them, but three of the five were huge and judging from the photo hanging on the wall, so were the other two.

Something about this didn’t seem right. The figure didn’t have a flashlight. What could he or she be doing without a flashlight out there, walking around the building? Then she saw something in the person’s hand. A bottle of some sort?

She pulled out her phone and started filming. It might be nothing, but if it was something, she wanted proof.
 

She was watching through the screen, squinting to try to make out what the person was doing when there was a bright flash of light. Then, there were flames.

The fire started small. Just a spot by the person’s feet, but it quickly spread. There was enough light now to see that the person was female. And she held a gas can. That’s what she’d been doing. Walking around, dousing the building with gas.
 

The flames spread along the line of gas. The woman took off running toward the woods. Then, something happened that Kora could not believe.

As she watched, she saw the five men run out of the house. All of them charged forward quickly, angry with rage, heading for the building. She saw Amir, shirtless, and admired his bare chest for a split second until it vanished. Almost all at once, the men leapt forward and became bears.

Their skin sprouted thick fur, their clothing fell to the ground in shreds, and they roared. She looked back at the girl who’d set the fire, horrified for a moment that she was about to be attacked by five bears, but then the girl, too, changed. She became a bear and took off running into the woods.
 

Soon, they were all out of sight. Kora sat there, stunned, for a long time. She still held the phone in case they’d come running back, but the flames grew and spread.
 

She should call someone. 911, the cops, anyone. But tell them what? That she’d just seen six people turn into bears and run into the woods? They’d think she was crazy. She stopped filming and went back to the start of the video.

There was the woman, walking around, pouring gas along the building. Then the flames, then the men, then the bears. She hadn’t imagined it. She hadn’t been seeing things. Amir, his friends, and this girl, all turned into huge black bears and ran off.

Part of her thought she’d wake up any minute. This had to be a dream because people didn’t turn into bears. They just didn’t. Plus, there was a building on fire in front of her and she wasn’t doing anything about it. She watched the flames, watched everything Amir and his friends had worked for go up in smoke.

Then someone came back. She took out her phone again. One of the bears was there. He stood up, becoming human again. He was naked and ran toward the house.

Surely, he would call the fire department. They’d come. She had to leave. Now. If someone knew she was there, she might be seen as an accomplice. At the very least, she’d have to answer for why she sat there and didn’t call someone or try to put out the fire when it was still small.

She got up, tucked her phone into her pocket, and ran through the woods back to her car. She wondered, though, if they could smell her. How good was a bear’s sense of smell? Would Amir recognize her somehow? Would he know she’d been there? And what would he think if he knew?
 

She finally reached her car, got in quickly, and sped off. She was several miles away when she heard sirens and saw flashes of light, and firetrucks tore down the road. Good. At least someone was on their way to put out the fire. She hoped no one would get hurt and that there wouldn’t be too much damage.
 

She was starting to really like Amir. She may have asked him to coffee to get more info from him, but by the time they parted ways, she was hoping he’d ask her out again. He hadn’t, and she’d actually been disappointed by this.

But at least now she knew. The secret he’d mentioned? Wasn’t something illegal. It was something supernatural. Who cared about moonshine and tax evasion when there were… what? Werebears? Was that what you called them?
 

Of course she’d heard stories in her childhood. Who hadn’t? People that could shift into animals. Oh, maybe that was it. You called them shifters. Well, they were always portrayed as evil and all the books said if you came across one, you should kill it immediately. But who believed those stories? They were as bad as the ones that said you should stake a vampire.
 

This was the story. This story, of a group of men who turn into bears, and she had the video to prove it? This could win her huge awards. This was Pulitzer Prize level stuff. She thought about that for a minute as she turned into her driveway. Kora Lane, Pulitzer Prize winning journalist—the one who uncovered the truth about shifters and showed the world.

She’d be famous. She’d be rich. She’d get to cover every story she wanted and wouldn’t have to touch those she didn’t. People would love her. Value her. Esteem her. She could write books. People might even write books about her. This video was her ticket to everything.

As soon as she got in the door, she sent the video to her email, then copied it to her backup drive, then copied it onto her computer. She wanted to have many copies available, from wherever she was.