The Fox and her Bear (Mating Call Dating Agency, #2)

The Fox and Her Bear

An Alpha Werebear Romance

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The Mating Call Dating Agency

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Lynn Red

(c)2015

Title Page

Also By Lynn Red

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Keep reading for a bunch of great excerpts from more steamy, sexy, hilarious Lynn Red romances! | Hare Today, Bear Tomorrow

Can’t Bear to Run

Lion in Wait

Bearly Hanging On

To Catch a Wolf

Two Bears are Better than One

Further Reading: Can't Bear to Hide

Also By Lynn Red

About the Author

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“H
old on, Mrs. Katz! Please! I know that your pet squirrel is up a tree, and I know that your pet bats are harassing him, but—”

The chatter on the other end of White Creek’s emergency line grew to a fever pitch and then quelled a bit.

“Sometimes I really wish it was appropriate to put some of these people on speaker,” Angie Holton, dispatcher extraordinaire, said to her desk mate. As soon as Mrs. Katz calmed down, she pressed the button to un-mute her headset.

“Okay, here, I’ll tell you what I can do. I’ve got a couple of officers on patrol over that way. I can ask them—ASK THEM—to check in. But listen, if they’re too busy doing anything else, you’ll have to wait until they’re free. Okay?”

Mrs. Katz squawked something about the unfairness of life and how the police never take her seriously.

“Yes, I understand, but this is the best I can do. We’ve got a lot of calls tonight and unfortunately, your bats harassing your squirrel doesn’t take precedence over,” she paused, looking at the current dispatch instructions. “A lost dog, three angry jackals causing a problem at a bar down town, or... well look, it’s just not an emergency.”

There was some more gabbing, another round of complaining, but finally Mrs. Katz admitted that maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as she was making it out to be. Satisfied that help was on the way, she hung up.

“She’s really a sweetheart,” Angie said to her co-worker. “She just gets excited.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Ange,” Colton said. He was an armadillo-shifting hobbyist jazz singer who croaked when he talked. She called him Louis, after Armstrong. “You’re here every single night and you never snap at anyone. I’m only part time, and I’m almost murderous after a couple hours.”

She shrugged. “It’s just one of those things. Anyway, I’m off in ten. Actually that’s how I do it. Eye on the prize, work to live and all that. Oh God, I have a date tonight! I completely forgot.”

Angie stood up, peeling herself out of the old faux-leather office chair she’d occupied like a cocoon for the past twelve hours. Her legs
scritched
off the pleather, and she bent down to pop her back. “Maybe I’ll just cancel.”

“It’s weird that you call it night. It’s just after dawn and all,” he said.

“Yeah, when you work graveyard as long as I have, you start thinking of things strangely. The whole world is asleep when you’re awake, except for the
real
crazies.”

“Are you saying you’re crazy?”

Angie popped her head left and right, cracking the top of her neck. “Must be. I fit right in with ‘em, I guess. Hopefully this guy doesn’t count as a member of the loony bin, but who knows.”

“Who is it? Maybe I know ‘em?”

“I can’t remember his name,” Angie said with a sigh. She hated dates. Hated the pressure, hated the expectations of constant chatter and small talk. She liked the
idea
of dating, but the actual execution? Yeesh. “Oh, Jake Lamar, an EMT I guess. No one else will go on a date at half past seven in the morning. So, I guess I have to take what I can get.”

She tapped a slow rhythm on her forehead with her fingertips. Of all Ange’s nervous habits, this was one of the strangest. Well, it was if you don’t count her obsessive-compulsive juggling during times of extreme stress, anyway.

“Well, I’ll just make the best of it, I guess.”

“You ever thought of
actually
finding someone? Not just going out with whoever asks, I mean, actually doing something about it?”

For a second, Ange chewed her bottom lip, tasting the remains of her half hour old application of grape-flavored lip gloss. On one hand, she could tell him about her extensive interview and questionnaire with the Mating Call agency, but at the same time, she’d have to explain it to him. Even though Colton was a pal, it probably just wasn’t worth the time investment, especially since she was already about ten minutes behind.

“I don’t know,” she said, “I kinda don’t have any time. And with my bizarre schedule, finding said time is almost impossible. I guess I
could
shift to days, but honestly I wasn’t joking about being with my people. Foxes get along better at night anyway.”

He shrugged, and gave her one of those ‘sure, if that’s what you want to do’ looks. The funny thing about it all was, she had no idea
why
she was so resistant to asking anyone for help. She always had been, though. Self-reliance was good and all, but at some point, yeah, help was pretty much a necessity.

“Well I’ll see ya,” she said with a sigh. “Same fox time, same fox channel.”

As she slid her ID badge through the security reader, Colton was singing the theme to the old
Batman
show, but instead of Batman, he was saying Foxgirl. Shaking her head and laughing under her breath, Angie stepped out of the dusty old back room of the White Creek Police Department, said her greetings to the familiar faces she strode past, and was almost blinded by the scorching late fall sun. In something she could only imagine was a great cosmic joke, at this time of year, the sun rose directly above a bank of trees opposite the PD, and she ended up squinting and blind for about two minutes after she walked through the door.

Almost immediately after settling into her old Camry and turning on the ignition, she started thinking about what Colton had said. Even though she’d already done all her stuff for Eve over at Mating Call, it had been months since she heard anything. At some point, she started wondering if maybe there really
wasn’t
anyone for her at all.

“A fox-shifting cat lady,” she said with another long, tired sigh. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s what I have in mind for my future. Even so, straits are looking sort of dire.”

Aside from the juggling, her constant out-loud rambling was another of her habits. She’d never gone to see a therapist, because she saw no need – for Angie, the best therapist was whatever was in the room with her at any given time.

She backed out of the parking lot, drove approximately a half block, and then turned into the craggy, pothole-filled parking lot of Dan’s Donut Kingdom. “Of all the places for a first date,” she said, grinning to herself. “Well, at least this place has some damn good pancakes. And I can get a beer. Things could be worse, huh?”

“Hell yeah they could!” came a voice from her left. “Come on! I’ve been waiting all night for this!”

And there he was, Jake Lamar. He had for some reason front-tucked his scrubs, and was wearing a blazer over them. He looked like a big, green clown. All he needed to complete the Bozo look was a big rainbow colored afro, but his front-flipped ‘do was almost there. “Hey Jake,” she said. “I didn’t realize you were standing there. Nice to meet you.” A normal person would have been embarrassed, but what the hell – after arguing about Mrs. Katz’s pet squirrel, she was just about a mile past caring.

“I know,” he announced. “It’s part of my plan. I like to surprise girls and see what they’re really like, you know. I read in this book that when you catch somebody unaware, you get to see their real stuff. It’s like when you see someone eating, and they eat their soup with a straw, you know they’re dumb.”

“Soup with a straw? What book were you reading? I can’t imagine that being an instruction in a book, because—”

“
The Art of the Pick Up
by Dale Williams,” he said with the level of pride most people have when they have finished
War and Peace
. “Trust me, I’ll know in fifteen minutes if we’re gonna hit the sack together. I’ll pay for your breakfast either way.”

He cocked a smarmy, obnoxious grin that went perfectly with his sunglasses and front-tucked scrubs. “Come on, baby, don’t let time waste. I’m a busy guy, got places to go and people to see, let’s get this show on the road.”

“You... are serious right now, aren’t you?” Angie asked. “This isn’t some kind of prank?”

“Joking is for when you’re married,” he said. “Right now I’m showing you how alpha I am and how much you need me.”

She considered this for a moment. “You said you’re paying, right?”

“Hell yeah,” he said. “I’m a successful single guy. I might not make very much in take home pay, but I’ve got a huge IRA, and I know everything there is to know about the stock market. This place is great!”

He was already inside when Angie stepped out. She looked back at her car, briefly considered just leaving, but reconsidered. “After listening to him, I
deserve
some pancakes. So yeah, let’s do this thing.”

Her car didn’t respond, but she thought she saw one of the headlights wink as she went inside the jangling old door.

*

“S
o sweet thing,” he turned to Angie, who he didn’t notice rolled her eyes, “what are you gonna have?” The fantastic specimen of male leaned casually over the donut counter and actually slicked his eyebrows with his forefinger and pinky. “As for me? I’ll be doing a maple bar, two long johns – cream filled – a chocolate cake donut, and two blueberry.”

“Coffee?” Al, the proprietor of her favorite breakfast joint, gave Angie a quick merciful glance.

“Oh God no,” Captain Clown Shoe said. “That stuff’ll kill you. Give me three bottles of chocolate milk. And a Coke. And one of those apple things that are all bumpy.”

“A fritter?” Al lifted an eyebrow. He wasn’t the sort to lay his feelings out on the table, so a raised eyebrow for Al was about as emotive as ranting and screaming would be for someone less taciturn.

“Whatever,” her date said, leaning back and grinning at her again.

“Are you sure you’re not from an 80s movie?” She asked him.

“I guess I do bear a lot of resemblance to Emilio Estevez, huh?”

“That’s... not quite what I meant. I was thinking more Mike Damone from
Fast Times
. Anyway, I’ll take a short stack and a beer, Al.”

“Comin’ right up, godspeed, Ange,” he said with a sly wink.

The two went to a table, one that was far away from both the front door, and the bathroom, which Jake insisted was a ‘romantic’ choice that was sure to impress. Angie, for her part, simply smiled in the way a kindergarten teacher does when little Jimmy pisses his pants for the fourth time in one day.

“So, let me get to know you before we get to the good part,” Jake said. He was still wearing his sunglasses. Of course he was. “We should at least know a few things about each other before we start makin’ whoopie.”

“I don’t even know how to take that series of words,” Angie said. “Look, I’m a dispatcher, you’re an EMT, and I know you’re trying to impress me but I’d really rather just have a normal date with some nice conversation.”