Her Bear and a Baby: BBW Bear Shifter Baby Paranormal Romance (Who's the Daddy? Book 2) (3 page)

“Do you have a wife?” she blurted out.

He took a sharp breath, and he almost stepped back away from her. “A wife? Why would you ask that?” He sounded bemused.

“Or a girlfriend?” she asked.

He smiled. “No. Why, were you wanting extra services?” he asked, a wicked grin on his face. Was that how he expected to get his mate into his bed, by offering himself as an extra? She blushed furiously, and realized she had somehow phrased the question all wrong.

“No, of course not,” she snorted. “I was only asking because I wondered if it was all right, me staying here. You didn’t have to check with your wife, or girlfriend.”

“No. It’s just me here. My brothers are off traveling the world somewhere.”

“Oh. Only there was a woman’s coat and shoes by the front door, and so I figured…” She saw the pain dart across his face. He was not quick enough to cover it up and she wanted to reach out and comfort him. It seemed she was the one doing the stabbing now, but she had no idea why. Elise was his mate; she knew that. So whom had he lost, who was close enough to cause such pain?

“They belong to my sister.” He frowned. “
Belonged
. Belonged to my sister,” he corrected himself.

“Oh.” She noted his apologetic look, and her heart squeezed in understanding, a recognition of another wounded soul. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He didn’t need to explain, her own loss was so near, so keen, she often had trouble thinking of Eleanor in the past tense, and could not speak of her as being in the past at all.

He nodded. “I’ll help you with those bags.”

Head bowed, he walked past her, and she hated herself. Hated herself for not reaching out to him, for not comforting her mate. As his footsteps faded away on the stairs, she went to the freshly made bed and sat down, placing Connor on her lap, his head resting on her chest. That familiar baby smell, so subtle yet unmistakable, washed over her.

What was she supposed to do?

If she gave into her desire for Beau, she might never be able to persuade him to help her find Gable. Alternatively, if he knew Connor wasn’t her child, he might insist they find Gable and hand him over, not caring if it was the right thing to do.

Even before she met Beau, it had not been simple: she had no clear-cut choices. Now it was worse, like a muddied stream bed after her bear had rolled in it.

What am I supposed to do?
Even her bear had no answer.

He hadn’t spoken to anyone about his loss for months. Wait. He hadn’t really spoken to anyone about anything for months, except for Lucy at the grocery store. And she knew better than to ask him about his sister.

Opening the front door and going outside, the cool breeze hit him and the mountain beckoned. He had been living the life of a hermit. A trip to the store once every couple of weeks to stock up on coffee was about it. He had come to prefer the solitude of the mountain, shifting each evening to wander the green slopes, reliving the times he had played there when he was young and carefree.

That had to end. His sister always believed in fate, and fate had brought Elise to his door, with a baby, and now it was his job to help her. And to somehow find the man he used to be. Or become the man Elise needed him to be.

He had wallowed in self-pity for far too long. Elise was a chance to awaken the human part of himself once more. By dwelling on all that was wrong with people, he had forgotten about all the people who had helped him, and all the people whom he had helped. The gratitude from old Mrs. Henry, who lived over in Tawny Valley, when he found her cat. Yes, the life of a PI often involved the small, personal touches, which he never charged for.

“Keys,” he said to himself as he reached her car and found it locked. He turned back towards the house, to see her standing, framed in the doorway, and his heart lurched. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His soul called out for her, to be next to her, to never let her out of his sight.

“You might need these.” She held her keys up. He went back towards her and she smiled. “You’re right, I would have struggled with the bag and the baby. I’m used to doing things on my own.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you got used to having me around,” he quipped, his mood lighter.

“Who knows,” she said wistfully. Then something in her snapped, and a barrier went up between them.

Elise Arnold was hiding something from him, and he needed to know what it was.

“Thanks,” he said as he took the keys from her, letting his thumb brush against her fingers ever so lightly. She jumped, as if he had shocked her, but he acted as if nothing had ever happened. Turning away from her, he walked back to the car. “Trunk?”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice breathy, confirming his suspicions that she was like him in so many ways. She was a shifter. He was certain of it. Maybe if he hadn’t been so blown away from having his mate right there in front of him, he would have sensed it sooner.

She covered it so well, he had figured she was human, unaware of the mating bond. But not anymore. He could wait for her to tell him the truth. He knew when to press for information and when to let a person unburden themselves in their own time. He could wait. It would be hard. But he could wait.

Opening the trunk, he took out her bags. One large one, which he guessed by the blue teddy bears was full to bursting with Conner’s stuff, and a smaller one, which was a lot lighter, and a plain, uniform blue. Maybe the flowery blankets might have been a little much!

So much of Elise was a mystery to him, but he knew he was going to have to play things cool if he didn’t want to frighten her off. More so than before, his new insight into her dual nature told him he had to help her find this man Gable. Only then would all the pieces fit into place.

The biggest part of which was why she allowed herself to be sucked in by a man. A man who told her she was his mate. Had she been truly in love with him, like humans fall in love at first sight, and mistaken that for the mating bond? Beau had never experienced those kind of emotions before. Yes, he had dated, but never had he fallen for a human woman, not when he knew they had no future together. Not that he didn’t like sex. One night stands had become his thing, any woman he fancied, if she was unattached, would somehow wind up in his bed. That was his past too, even sex hadn’t been able to distract him from his loss.

Maybe Gable convinced Elise of things that weren’t true? Told her she was a defective shifter for not sensing the mating bond? There had to be some reason Elise said Gable was her mate, when clearly he wasn’t. That role belonged to Beau, and he intended to make sure Elise accepted it.

He walked back towards her, only she had gone from the doorway; she was somewhere inside his house. Part of him, the part that was primal, wanted to take over, and claim her as his own, make her forget this hunt for the man who wasn’t her true mate. Beau fought that urge down. This wasn’t the time to be heavy handed, this was the time to get to know her, to win her trust and then see where their futures led.

Shouldering the door closed, he went into the kitchen, and placed the bags on the table. Elise was pouring coffee, baby slung on one hip. As Connor turned to look at him, he studied the small boy’s features, taking in the full lips with a cupid’s bow, the same blue eyes, wide and clear, and the dark auburn hair that mirrored Elise’s. There was no doubt these two were of the same blood.

Which left him in no doubt that he had to accept raising another man’s child as his own.

“Milk and sugar?” she asked, the spoon shaking slightly as she held it in her hand.

“Milk. No sugar. Thanks,” he said as she handed him a cup. “Why don’t we go into the sitting room? This young man can have a crawl around on the floor.”

“OK.” She looked pale and drawn, as if the fight had gone out of her. The strength needed to deny him was immense. It would be so easy for him to break down her resolve. Yet he wouldn’t; he didn’t want to break her in any way. He wanted to conquer her, but without force.

“Here, let me take him.” Beau held out his arms, and she hesitated, but the baby reached for him and slid into his arms.

“I’ll warm a bottle if that’s OK?” she asked, stepping towards the kitchen table but making sure to give him a wide berth.

“Sure. Come on, Connor, let’s go play.” Beau was no expert; none of his brothers had found their mates, so he wasn’t even an uncle, but he guessed the baby must have been about eight months old. He wriggled in Beau’s arms, turning to look over his shoulder as they left Elise behind.

The little boy’s face began to crumple. A hiccup escaped him and his eyes became watery. Damn it. He was about to cry. Not a great start to their relationship.

“Hey there,” Beau said soothingly, his thick fingers stroking the little boy’s tummy and then tickling him lightly. “We can give your mom a minute to get your bottle ready, can’t we?”

Connor’s eyes swiveled to stare at Beau. Really stare, as if he was looking into the bear shifter’s soul. Beau was reminded of Elise’s words again,
like staring into the abyss
. A shiver passed through him, but then Connor broke out into a smile, and to Beau, if he had to describe this baby’s eyes in any way, it would be like looking into a pool of warm, welcoming water, as blue as an early spring morning.

“I guess you inherited your mom’s looks.” His thoughts turned to the man he was supposed to be helping to find. He would do his best, as he always did. Beau only hoped that this investigation didn’t turn out as terrible as his last one.

Elise found her way around the large kitchen, opening cupboards, at first a little self-consciously, as if she were prying, but then she began to feel at home. The kitchen, like the rest of the house seemed to have been put in mothballs; most of the utensils looked hardly used, the cupboards only holding the barest minimum of staple foods. At last she found what she was looking for, a measuring jug, and began the task of making a small batch of baby bottles, enough to at least see Connor through the night and into the morning.

All the time she realized just how hungry she was herself. Would it be imposing to ask Beau if she could rustle something up out of the cans of beans and rice? Together with the butter and cheese in the fridge, she could make something edible, and with the addition of some of the herbs she had smelt in the garden, it would be tasty.

Taking Connor’s freshly made bottle, she left the kitchen and stood for a moment in the hallway, realizing she had no idea of the layout of the house, other than where his office was. She looked left and right, and then she heard Connor giggle. Left. She walked towards the sound of a happy baby.

The soft light of a lamp spilled out of the doorway, along with the sound of Beau talking and Connor making gentle cooing noises. She could picture the scene: Connor would be on his hands and knees, practicing his crawling, which meant he was rocking backwards and forward, trying to figure out how to coordinate his limbs, while Beau looked on.

Elise had to stop and lean against the wall before she entered. If she gave into her need for Beau, if she admitted they were mates, she could move in here with him, make her mate happy, and chase the sadness, wherever it came from, away. They were possibly connected by more than just the mating bond. She was sure they shared a deep sadness too.

Eleanor. She thought of her sister, the thin, broken woman on the stark white hospital bed, and had to squeeze her eyes shut to stop the tears.
Just get through this, then you can have a happy ever after with Beau
. The kind of happy ever after Eleanor and Connor had deserved, but never got.

“Are you OK?” Beau’s deep rumbling voice asked from inside the sanctuary of the soft lamp-lit room. He had sensed her there; of course he had.

Pushing away from the wall, she quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Yes. I’m fine.” She walked into the room and picked Connor up, who kicked his legs excitedly at the sight of his bottle.

Beau, who had been sprawled on the floor, got up, looking a little sheepish at being caught playing with a child. “I should go and start investigating your Gable O’Donnell,” he said, and she wanted to correct him and say he wasn’t
her
Gable. However, she didn’t, letting the lie stand between them.

“Do you mind if I cook something when Connor has finished his bottle? I’ll pay you for what I use,” she added quickly.

“Help yourself.” He was walking towards the door, but turned back to her. “Or I could order take-out. It’s a long way from the village, but I’ve learned that if you offer a big enough tip, Mark doesn’t mind bringing pizza out here.”

“Wow. Pizza. Next to the rice and beans, which is all I could find in the kitchen, I think a large tip would be a small price to pay.”

“I’ll get the menu,” he said, grinning.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“I can imagine the look on Mark’s face when I call him. He hasn’t been out here for months.”

“Then it’s my treat,” she insisted, wondering if Beau was short on money and that was why there was so little in the way of supplies. But why? He was supposed to be the best at investigating people’s problems, especially when those problems involved shifters. So why wasn’t he rushed off his feet, living off the money he charged for his investigating skills. What had happened to him?

“It’s OK. I’ll eat something else,” he said, and the look in his eye was of a man slightly offended that a woman was offering to pay for him… No, not offended. What, then?

“What’s wrong? Your pride won’t let a girl pay for your dinner?”

“No.” He averted his eyes; she could almost read the emotions flitting across his face. Then he grinned at her. “Pizza sounds good.”

“Do you have that menu?” she asked.

“Somewhere.” He left the room and she heard his footsteps fade away, and with it the sense of being connected to him. To tear herself away from the sense of loss, she looked down into Connor’s darling face, and smiled at him. “You are going to be loved, Connor. No matter what happens.”