Read Can't Bear To Run (Kendal Creek Bears, #1) Online

Authors: Lynn Red

Tags: #werebear, #alpha bear shape shifter, #werewolf, #werewolf shifter, #alpha wolf, #alpha bear, #paranormal romance, #shapeshifter romance

Can't Bear To Run (Kendal Creek Bears, #1) (8 page)

BOOK: Can't Bear To Run (Kendal Creek Bears, #1)
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The
woop-woop
of a siren caught me off guard. I glanced at my speed. “Son of a bitch,” I swore.

For a moment, I entertained the thought that it wasn’t me the cop wanted, but some other person who had sped past. Then again, I was going almost a hundred miles an hour.

It took every ounce of self-control in my body to not punch the gas and try to escape. I might be a little unhinged from time to time, but crazy, I’m not. I knew it was just a speeding ticket. That’s all it
could
be. But damn if my pit stains hadn’t grown.

After a few moments of gut wrenching waiting, the officer trundled up to my window and waited while I cranked it down. “Uh, hi, officer,” I said, smiling meekly.

“License and registration, ma’am,” he said with the sort of bored voice a person only has when they’ve been doing the same thing for way too long. He hooked a thumb in his belt. “Ma’am?”

“Oh, sorry,” I jolted. “Been driving a long time. Here.” I handed over the paperwork, and tried my best to keep my hand still, though it didn’t work very well.

“Could you turn that down, please?” he asked. I felt like a pure-bred jackass with the radio cranked up, but somehow I hadn’t even noticed. “Massachusetts? You’re a long way from home... Mrs. Dodson,” he read from my license. “Do you know how fast you were going?”

Briefly I flirted with the idea of trying to play ignorant, but in my current situation, that would have been almost as stupid as trying to run. “Yes sir, 95.”

“I clocked you at... er, well yeah, 95. Sorry, it’s usually more of a back and forth at that part. What are you all the way out here for?”

His slight smile relaxed me somewhat. “I was just taking a long weekend to see a concert in Denver. Meeting a friend.” That was a lie, but it made more sense than the truth.

“No drugs in the vehicle?”

I shook my head.

“Have you been drinking?”

“No, sir,” I said. “Little early for that, I think.”

The little joke made him curl his bushy mustache into a smile. “Suppose so. Well look, I should give you a ticket, but let’s be real. You live across the country, and I doubt you’re the bad sort. You watch out at that concert though. From what I hear, it’s going to be a wild time. Not that I’d know.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, smiling back. “I’m not planning on having any wild times. I’m a little too old for all that.”

“I know how that is,” he said. “You hang out here for a second, I’ll go run this and if you’re clear I’ll be back in a minute. Hang tight.”

Every shred of anxiety flooded my mind when he walked off. A rush of adrenaline gave me a few seconds of that awful hyper-awareness that it does when you crest the hill on a rollercoaster and feel your heart jump into your throat. My hands were so soaked with sweat that when I clenched the wheel, it squeaked. Before I knew it, he was back.

“Right, Mrs. Dodson, I’m sure this is no surprise, but you’re clean. You’d be surprised how many people speed when they’ve got warrants out on them. I can’t imagine anything dumber, but... what do I know?” He hitched his thumb on his belt again.

“Yeah, I’m not much for getting out,” I said.
If only you knew
.

“Anyway, here you go. Warning for the speeding. If you’re tired, you should stop off and get some rest. Long drives are the most dangerous, you know.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, “I will.”

He gave a tired sigh and tapped twice on the hood of my Jeep. “This thing still running,” he remarked, almost to himself. “That’s a good thing. They don’t make ‘em like they used to. This an ’84?”

I knew he was just being friendly, and was probably bored, but every second the kindly cop was near my car, my stomach kept getting closer and closer to my throat. “’85,” I said. “First car I ever bought.”

He arched an eyebrow, nodding as he did. “Well anyways, you have a good day. Have fun at that concert, and be careful. Those things can get out of hand quickly.”

I swallowed hard. “Will do.”

As soon as he was gone, I let out what might be a world record sigh.


In one quarter mile, take exit 102 toward Denver, Colorado
,” the slightly British voice from my GPS yammered. “
Recalculating. Recalculating.

“Recalculating,” I repeated her plea. “Sounds good. Let’s recalculate.”

I swung Booger around in a wide circle and was back on my way. Somehow, my heart managed to stay in my chest. For that, at least, I was glad.

*

W
ith my ticket in hand, a tent slung across my back, head full of caffeine and belly full of convenience store hot dogs, I climbed out of my car in a field packed with cars parked every which way. A sudden need to pee struck me, so I set out in search of the wall of a green, plastic toilet I figured I’d find.

What I
didn’t
figure on finding was the guy I saw standing in front of them.

He had long brown hair, hanging in shaggy curls around his huge shoulders. His eyes were flashing in the sun, an almost golden color, and he was
big
. I don’t mean big like ‘oh he must lift weights’ either. I mean big like ‘oh he probably works for a circus.’ As I devoured every single detail of his impressive countenance, a slow realization crept over me – it was
him
.

“Get outta the way!” he bellowed, and grabbed an irritated looking guy with a sideways cap and a really thick, gold necklace around his pencil neck. “Can’t you see she needs in here?”

All of a sudden, it hit me right in the stomach.
Holy Shit
. It couldn’t be him, could it? I mean
him
-him. My stranger? My... God, I realized that while I was staring at him, he was fixed right on me, too.

“Hey man,” the little guy said. “Calm down, I was in line first.”

“Come here!” the guy shouted. “This little jackass can wait.”

I smiled at him politely, and waited for whoever was lucky enough to have
that
as a chaperone to head into the green, plastic toilet box. My stomach turned a flip, then wadded up into a ball. I clenched my hands into fists, slightly horrified at how wet they’d gotten.

“Let me
go
!”

“Shut up!” the giant bellowed. “You’re just going in there to snort whatever it is you have in your pocket. You’re not fooling anyone. I can smell it from a mile away.”

“What?” the little man kicked his sockless feet. “You... huh?”

“Shut
up
! Come on in before I snap his neck.”

Oh my God
, I looked around to find no one else in my immediate vicinity.
Is he talking to me
?
No way he knows who I am, this is just too crazy.

I pointed at myself and arched my eyebrow.
He couldn’t possibly be talking to me. My life doesn’t work like this
.

He nodded, and grinned broadly. “Come on!”

Unsure, and still questioning exactly what I’d done to deserve such bizarrely gallant restroom chivalry, I slowly made my way toward him. “Me?”

“You see any other beautiful women with enchanting eyes and delicious lips anywhere around?”

I felt myself blush deeply, but I was smiling at the same time. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone said anything remotely like that to me, but damn it felt good, even if he
was
just being a hammy meathead.

“Uh, I guess not?” I asked. “But... why not let that guy go first?”

The little shrimp kicked his legs, which were dangling a full six inches off the ground.

“Because I’ve got a heart of gold. I help old women cross the street and make sure gorgeous women who look like they’ve needed to hit the head for a few hours use the toilet before college twerps with a coke habit. And don’t think I don’t remember you.”

Holy shit
, I thought.
There’s no way. No possible way
. I opened my mouth and started to say something, but my lips just flapped in the breeze.

“Hey! Lemme go, jackass!”

The little fella was really having a tough time being manhandled, but it
was
pretty funny, I have to admit.

“Anyway, he’s been cutting in line all day. I figured it was finally time for someone to step in and take care of him. Go on in. When you’re done, I’ll buy you a beer to start filling you back up again.”

I could
not
believe what was happening. Either way, I did really, really have to pee, so I bashfully stepped into the chemical toilet and pinched my nose closed as I looked at the other people who were all standing around, gawking.

As soon as the door was locked and I was safely inside with my new friend shouting orders outside, I let myself breathe. Only once or twice though, because God almighty did that place smell like a mixture of sadness, hell, and music festival.

I’d never been to one before, but I could imagine they weren’t the freshest, rosiest smelling places on earth.

When I emerged, a little lightheaded from whatever it was they had in the bottom of the latrine, the giant was standing there with his hands on his hips in an almost preposterous Superman-esque pose. The guy with the crooked hat was gone, and it seemed like order had been restored.

“Lines are moving like they should,” he said.

“Are you some kind of hall monitor?” I asked, accepting his outstretched hand and shaking it. He had one of those grips you can just tell would be able to either crush your hand or rip your arm off if he wanted. Also, his skin was warm – like, really warm, way more than it should have been, even given the heat.

He laughed with such force that I felt the tones in my belly. “No,” he said. “Just here for the weekend. Daxon Mark,” he said.

“Is that who’s playing?” I realized as I asked that we had wandered away from the toilets, and were relatively alone in an expanse of field. “I’ve never heard of them before.”

“In a manner of speaking, I guess so,” he said. “Although I’m not really playing, and I wasn’t lying earlier. You have eyes that I could stare at for days.”

“Huh?” My head swam, either from the chemical vat, or more likely, from the way this giant had somehow managed to make me forget – at least for the moment – my awful situation and also the fact that I’d been in a car so long my legs were cramped painfully.

He squinted. “I’m... not playing. I’m Daxon...”

“Oh!” I shouted, shaking his hand. “I swear I’m not normally this dumb. I just drove in from Boston in two days, and my head is kinda wobbly.”

“Nice to meet you, Raine Matthews, from Boston,” Daxon said. “I knew I’d find you again.”

“Yeah, good to... wait, what? Do I know you?” It was all I could do not to flop on the ground and start gyrating like a lunatic.
Of course I know you
, I wanted to shout.
When I’m in the worst way, I keep remembering your face
. To not sound like a loon, I kept my mouth shut.

“I’ve got a strange way with remembering names. And you’ve got a certain way with comically bad 80s power ballads.”

“You... remembered?”

“Yes.” He grew very serious. “There have been about eighteen hundred days since the last time I saw you, and I never forgot, not one single time, the way your eyes glittered on that stage. I knew I’d find you, and I didn’t stop until I did.”

I was shaking my head. “You’re good at this game, aren’t you?” I dropped his hand and narrowed my eyes. “I can’t believe this.”

“Game? Nah. I just act like a playboy when I get nervous. Honestly I like to play
Dungeons & Dragons
and read comics. But I do owe you something.”

“You... do?”

“A beer,” he said with a grin that made my knees a little unstable as he stared into my eyes. “Remember?”

-9-
Serious as a Bear Attack

––––––––

“P
retty good, huh?” Dax was pretending to watch the band, but was very obviously watching me. Every time I looked away from him, he’d steal a glance. It’s funny; here’s this huge guy who can very obviously take care of himself, and yet at the same time, there’s a kind of innocence about him.

No, no, innocence is the wrong word. Maybe... inexperience? It’s hard to pin down. Eagerness? He certainly had that, for sure.

“Yeah,” I said. “Never heard of these guys before.”

Truth was, I hadn’t heard of any of the bands playing. The longer I was there – we were getting to the end of day one – the more I started wondering why the hell, exactly, I went. Then again, the more I questioned my motives, the more I realized they didn’t need any questioning.

The day was fading slowly into evening, and with it, orange rays seemed to spray out from behind the mountains framing the fairground. “What brought you all the way out here, Raine Matthews?” that familiar, husky voice asked.

On stage, the band quit playing, packed up their stuff and departed. In the lull between acts, the massive crowd dispersed a little – though we were so far back from the stage that the place wasn’t particularly crowded anyway.

I shrugged, still watching the stage. “Just seemed like a good time, I guess. Also, ever since that night at karaoke when I saw you, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. You’re like a bad dream that turned into a really good one.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. “Funny thing about love, huh?”

“Kinda forward, huh?”

“I would say... straight forward rather than just forward.” The way he kinda growled when he spoke got my belly twisting just a smidge. I didn’t know if I was just heavily on the rebound, but I have the feeling I’d been over Dan for a pretty long time at that point. This just felt... fun?

I smirked with the left side of my mouth, but kept staring at the stage. I was afraid that if I looked over at my new friend, I’d betray my own emotions far more than I wanted. “How about you? I don’t know the first thing about you, and you stole my wallet, so you’re about four up on me.”

He grunted a laugh. “I’m... from a small town,” he said with the most obvious guard wall I’ve ever heard up. “North of here a ways. Deeper in the Rockies.”

“Ah,” I said. “That’s specific. What’s it called?”

BOOK: Can't Bear To Run (Kendal Creek Bears, #1)
13.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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