Sassy Shifter Brides: Complete Series - BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Mail-Order Romance (15 page)

 

He cradled the glass in his palms for a second longer, silence lingering between him and the bartender. Then, Cerise plucked the glass right out from between his fingers, tucking it behind the bar and crossing her arms on her chest as Deacon protested loudly.

“What’s that for!?” he demanded.

“What is that for? Pfft! Deacon North, are you
really
sitting in my diner, feeling sorry for yourself because you can’t be bear enough to go get your woman and tell her the truth? No bear like that will get a drink on my watch, not even a polar bear,” Cerise huffed, giving him a scowl.

 

Deacon sputtered for words, his brows knitting together. Something throbbed in his heart, telling him she was right, though. The thought of letting go of Aubrey had been killing him ever since the first thrill wore off and his rational self was allowed a word in. He’d been at it every way he could, plotting and concocting plans that would make it possible to keep talking to Aubrey, to keep enjoying that closeness that came so easily to them. Seeing the disappointment in Cerise’s eyes was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Deacon squared his jaw and stood up, fishing some bills out of his back pocket and laying them on the counter.

“Hey, where are you going? I was expecting at least a bit of a fight!!” Cerise called after him as Deacon grabbed his phone and strode out of the diner with long steps.

“I’m going to go get my woman back!” he hollered over his shoulder, stepping into the heavy, windy snowfall outside. The last thing he saw as he hopped into his truck was the grin on Cerise’s face as she waved to him through the window.

 

***

Deacon watched as the tiny airplane approached and wobbled in flight, the heavy snow obscuring its path. His gut tensed, and he pulled his black cowboy hat down harder, the wind whipping around and threatening to steal it. His nerves were fried, and his mouth felt cottony. If anyone were to ask how he was feeling, he would have honestly admitted that he may be close to throwing up. Never had he been so nervous about anything in his life. Aubrey was on that little plane. Aubrey Jameson. His redheaded, curvy goddess of a mate. And she had no idea it was going to be him meeting her instead of Dale, the man she thought she’d been talking to.

 

The plane jumped and skidded, veering side to side dangerously on the fresh snow, before finally coming to a stop. The small hatch was thrown open, and a man huddled in five layers of coats and jackets scampered from the control building to the plane to greet the passengers. The plane came once a week, even less often in the winter. The storm was so bad that Deacon was honestly impressed that the pilot had dared land at all. He reminded himself to shake Slate’s – the weretiger pilot’s – hand later. Right now, he had more pressing matters on his mind.  Like how to make sure Aubrey wouldn’t grab her bags and head for the hills the moment she saw him.
 

CHAPTER THREE

Aubrey had clung to the narrow seat she’d been assigned with her nails since taking off. The little airplane was obviously less than ideal for the route she wanted to take, but she’d been assured that there was really no other way to get to Shifter Grove, unless she was interested in a very long, very uneventful ride down dirt roads. Dirt roads that weren’t currently accessible because no one really bothered to plow them free. So, air travel it was. Horrific, gut-wrenching air travel in a plane the size of a shoebox and a pilot who seemed far, far too cheery about the bad weather. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the plane finally touched down. As soon as the door was flung open, she was shaken by a whole new worry, though.

 

A week ago, not long after Delia had merrily picked on her timid nature, Dale had done something she had been secretly dreaming of but hadn’t honestly dared to expect. He’d asked her to come visit him for two weeks. Based on what her heart was yelling, it had taken her exactly two seconds to decide – yes! She’d typed it in, clicked the reply button, and when the message fluttered off towards Dale, Aubrey had stared at that simple word for a long while, in awe of her newfound daring. Delia’s words had struck home. She’d been careful, guarded, shut off. Her work was giving her no joy. Her bank account was happy, sure, but she wasn’t. And despite her past misfortunes in Idaho, she missed home. She missed the hard winters, the heavy snow, the high peaks always on the horizon and being surrounded by some of the most beautiful wilderness the country had to offer. If it came with a scorching hot werebear, well, then she was just going to be a very lucky girl.

 

Aubrey pulled on her rabbit fur headband and thick mittens, buttoning up her jacket. Grabbing her purse, she stepped out of the plane, only to be immediately assaulted by the snow. A guiding hand led her down the steps and a moment later gave her the handle to her suitcase. She blinked her eyes, breathing in the fresh, cold mountain air. It was exquisite, even if she couldn’t see a damn thing through the snow. She took a few steps towards the control building, but someone caught her attention to the side. A big form of a man came striding towards her, tall and broad-shouldered. Her heart skipped a beat. She was going to meet her mysterious cowboy! Aubrey’s lips twitched up in a happy smile, her impeccable make-up quickly becoming ruined by the elements. Hell, she didn’t care. No Idaho man would fault her for a bit of runny mascara in a snowstorm.

 

“Hey, you!” she called into the storm as the man approached, still too far to make out any distinguishing features. Her heart thrummed loudly in her chest.

“Hey, Red,” a familiar voice called. Aubrey’s smile faltered and then fell completely. She knew that voice. Knew it much too well. Her vision blurred at the edges, and it wasn’t just the snow playing tricks on her. The past came tumbling back to her, making her tummy do flips.

Oh my god, don’t let it be Deacon,
she thought desperately. But it was. She must have looked just about ashen, considering the concerned and somewhat sheepish look on Deacon’s face when he came up to her. He reached for her suitcase without a word and plucked it out of her limp hand.

 

He was still devastating – bright, intelligent gray eyes that mirrored the soul of the bear in him, slight stubble on his chiseled chin, a straight nose that gave his face the kind of masculine certainty that most men only dreamed of possessing. Her knees threatened to collapse under her. She hadn’t seen him in ten years, and now here he was, standing right in front of her, making her heart beat wildly just like he had when she was eighteen. Even in the snow and freezing cold, she could feel warmth and power wafting from him, surrounding her in that cocoon of safety she’d adored when she was younger.

 

“Deacon,” she stammered, “What are you… I mean… Um, I’m meeting someone.” In just a flash she had gone from happy and expectant to confused and disoriented. What the hell was going on?

“I know. It’s me you’re meeting,” Deacon said, shattering any hope of there being some kind of grand coincidence that had brought the man of her past to where she was supposed to meet the man of her future. Aubrey swallowed hard, her head beginning to throb.

“I don’t believe you,” she offered weakly, a shudder running through her – and not because of the cold. “I have to go back,” she decided quickly, whipping her head around and looking at the airplane. But it wasn’t taking off again. Instead, it was getting tied down to make sure that the storm didn’t toss it around the dingy airport.

 

“The plane won’t leave for a while again, Aubrey. Let’s just get inside, and I’ll explain everything. I promise.” Deacon’s voice was calm and commanding, not betraying an ounce of nervousness. It brought a clump to her throat. How could he stand there so calmly, the snowflakes sticking to his black hat and leather jacket, looking like this was the most normal thing ever?! It wasn’t! Anger took the place of confusion, tinting the edges of her thoughts red with fury and loss. Deacon offered her his hand, but she didn’t take it. She’d be damned if she’d touch him, even if she wanted to, badly. The moment she’d recognized him, every fiber of her being had yelled at her to kiss him.

No, be strong.
Aubrey told herself, the irritation already bubbling up.

“Aubrey?” Deacon asked again, as she’d fallen silent for a while.

“Fine,” she snapped, the cold beginning to bite her fingertips and gnaw at her nose. She pulled the scarf higher around her face and stalked after Deacon through the quickly growing snow that had already washed away Deacon’s previous steps almost completely. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t help stealing a few glances at Deacon’s ass and strong, wide back. Gah, if only he didn’t make her body react immediately! The sight of him brought to mind all the deliriously tasty pleasures he had treated her to, teasing and tormenting her body in the most delicious of ways, night after night until she could barely think straight. Her core pulsed with the memory.

 

Deacon’s big Dodge truck soon came into view, and he opened the passenger side door for her. Aubrey climbed in, trying her best to remain graceful even when she had to skip up far higher than her tight skirt would allow her to. She cursed her near-sightedness when choosing her apparel. In her mind, she’d dressed to impress, hell, to
wreck
any man that laid eyes on her lush, voluptuous curves. Instead, she was just fumbling around like a fish out of water, making a fool of herself. The bitterness in her was almost overwhelming. Deacon put her suitcase in the backseat and hopped into the driver’s seat.

 

As soon as the door shut behind him, he made the truck roar to life and put the heat on full blast.

“Hey, where the hell do you think you’re taking me?” Aubrey demanded as Deacon brought the car around and headed towards what could have doubled for a road when it wasn’t snowing, but now just looked like a slightly flatter mound of snow going through the woods.

“I’m taking you to my ranch, Aubrey,” Deacon said. She stared at him incredulously, but as the truck lurched over some snow piles a second later, she reached for her seatbelt and clicked it across her body.

“Why the hell are you doing that?”

“Because it’s cold here, Slate isn’t planning on flying the plane out for at least another week, and this area isn’t exactly known for its wealth of hotels,” he answered dryly. Aubrey spied a twitch in his jaw. A surefire sign that he was more nervous than he let on. It filled her with a sense of satisfaction, knowing that she wasn’t the only one losing her mind in the situation. And, on the other end of the spectrum, she had to scold herself for remembering a detail like that. Sitting so near to him brought back all the long-buried emotions and memories, both good and bad. It made her heart ache. She found her eyes welling up with tears, and she wasn’t even entirely sure why that was. Because she was feeling vulnerable? Because she missed him? Because she had expected today to be a new start, not a chance to rip open old wounds? Probably a little bit of all of those.

 

“Deacon, explain,” she finally said, wearily. Aubrey took off her headband and unbuttoned her jacket a bit as the heat began crawling back into her body. She laid the mittens and fluffy headband on her lap and looked expectantly to Deacon, who was keeping his eyes squarely on the road. How had he managed to take charge so easily again? Between stepping out of the airplane and being on the way to Deacon’s ranch, Aubrey could hardly pinpoint the moment where she’d lost all control. The question was, did she mind?

 

“Alright. It’s simple, really. My friends Warren and Rake kept telling me about SassyDate. There’s not a lot of women around these parts, so I was curious,” he said, a hint of red rising to his cheek. Aubrey blinked. Was she seeing what she thought she was seeing? Was Deacon
blushing
? “Anyway, at one point, I came across your profile. Your pictures, seeing your face again… It wrecked me. I couldn’t think of anything else. I’ve missed you badly, Aubrey. I know you might not believe this, but I’ve always thought that we belonged together. That you were my mate. I couldn’t help myself. I created a new profile, used a muddled picture of myself and messaged you as Dale. I just wanted to know how you were doing, but we hit it off so easily that…“

 

“That you thought it would be okay to trick me into coming to see you in Idaho?!”

“Yes. Essentially. I’m sorry for surprising you like this, I know it isn’t fair towards you. But I wasn’t going to let another chance with you slip through my fingers. I wanted you here so I could show you that there
could
be a future for us. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you felt the same for me. You can’t deny that we had a connection, Aubrey.” Deacon glanced at her, and his gray eyes took her breath away. As always, he seemed to gaze straight through her. She hated and loved it at the same time. Now it was her turn to blush. Aubrey averted her eyes, staring steadfast out of the window. She couldn’t see anything but white, but it was better than letting herself get sucked back into their long lost love.

 

Aubrey worried her lip, her teeth gnawing at it without her noticing. Deacon chuckled softly, and she threw a glare at him from under her lashes.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I think it’s adorable that you still chew on your lip when you get worried about something. Makes me want to kiss your sorrows away, every time,” Deacon said. God, that voice. It rumbled right through her, igniting every little spark that she’d fought so hard to extinguish. Flashes of their past, happy and full of love, came flooding back to her, threatening to overwhelm her. A curious tingle went down her spine, and she stole another glance at the man, her stomach twisting in knots. He’d never failed to sweep her off her feet, and even now, when she had good reason to be furious with him, Deacon was working that country boy magic on her. She fell silent for a long time, trying to compose her scattered thoughts into a coherent sentence. Still, nothing much came from it.

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