Her Bear and a Baby: BBW Bear Shifter Baby Paranormal Romance (Who's the Daddy? Book 2) (4 page)

BOOK: Her Bear and a Baby: BBW Bear Shifter Baby Paranormal Romance (Who's the Daddy? Book 2)
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Connor smiled at her around his bottle, and then went back to contentedly sucking, his eyes beginning to close, until by the time he had finished his bottle and she rubbed his back, the baby was asleep. Elise placed him on the sofa, using pillows to prop him in place, and once she was satisfied he wouldn’t roll off, she went to find Beau.

He was rummaging in the kitchen, looking in drawers, his face creased into a frown. “I’m sure it was here somewhere.”

“Don’t worry, what’s the name of the place? I’ll look it up on my phone.” She took out her cell. “No reception.”

“It’s bad out here, but if you go up into my room, near the window, you can usually pick it up.” He must have seen the look on her face, and laughed. “That is not a ploy to get you into my bed.”

Pity,
her bear said.

“I never thought it was,” she said quickly, turning to hide the blush as it spread across her cheeks.

“Top of the stairs, turn right, and the second door on the left. I’ll stay down here to protect your reputation.”

She turned away from him, not rising to his taunt. Normally she could take all forms of teasing, but he had hit a nerve, not least because she would love to have him pull her into bed and make love to her. Sweet, beautiful love. There was an itch inside her that only he could scratch, as if the mating bond was a wound that needed to be healed. Would it get worse if she kept denying there was anything between them?

Running up the stairs, knowing that food would be the best thing to take her mind off Beau’s bed, she followed his directions and opened the door of a most definitely male bedroom. The decoration was plain, three walls painted a fresh cream color, with the wall behind the bedstead picked out in a deep midnight blue, making a feature of it. It was the color of the inky night when the moon was full.

Moving to the window, she looked out on the view below her, cell phone reception temporarily forgotten. The late evening sun was just disappearing over the mountain peaks, casting its rosy glow over the valley before her. She could just about make out the small village, with the houses clustered together, as if for safety. Maybe it had been built when bear shifters roamed the wilderness, before they began to hide away from human life. Before humans defended themselves with guns, and the only safety shifters knew was in hiding themselves away.

The lights twinkled, little pin pricks as the shadows lengthened, allowing the darkness to fill the streets. It reminded her of her life, a sea of darkness, the loss of her sister almost overwhelming. Connor had been one of those pinpricks of light, a small flame, fighting back the dark cloud that had threatened her.

Revenge
. It was a cloud of cloying darkness that swept over her like a storm, tugging at her, telling her there was only one reason she should find Gable… To put a knife in his heart and twist it.

That wasn’t what Eleanor wanted, she was sure of it. But it
was
what Elise wanted. From the moment she had gone home to find her sister sick and alone with the baby, she had wanted to throttle Gable with her bare hands, to make him look with his dark eyes at what he had done to her twin.

“Pizza.” She typed into her phone and let Google search for the nearest place, while she stared out of the windows, watching the light in the village spread. Maybe Beau could draw her back from the abyss. Because otherwise she might jump into Gable’s dark eyes and lose herself to her hatred. And then Connor would have no family.

Elise knew that couldn’t happen. Beau being her mate was fate. She had been sent here to meet him.

No. That was weakness. She was sent here so that he could help her resolve the situation with Gable, wherever he was in the world. She had to find him, whatever it took. Because until she did, she could never settle down and be happy. She could never allow her sister’s memory to rest.

Chapter Six – Beau

He watched her. She could hardly keep her eyes open, her head dipping and then jerking up as sleep called to her.

They had eaten pizza, delivered by a very surprised and curious Mark. Beau had opened the door himself to accept the delivery, but then Elise had appeared behind him, earning Beau a shocked expression.

“Enjoy!” Mark had said with a huge smile and a sly wink.

“Thank you, Mark,” Elise had said, and then they took the pizza into the sitting room where they ate out of the boxes and talked about nothing in particular. She had asked him how long he had lived here. He told her, all his life.

She asked about the village; he told her about its inhabitants. Both of them skirting around anything serious, anything that delved too deeply into the other person’s past.

All he had learned from Elise was that she had been working for a Realtor for the last five years. She didn’t tell him where she had met Connor’s father, and he never asked. He would find out what he needed to know once he got her into bed.

Then he would spend an hour or two on the Internet, trying to track Gable down. If that didn’t work out, he would begin calling some of the local sheriffs, those of a shifter persuasion. Piece by piece he would track him down. Piece by piece he would put the jigsaw together until he had a clear picture of what exactly was going on here.

“You should go to bed,” he said, standing and collecting the pizza boxes. “I’ll take these to the kitchen and then carry Connor up for you.”

“No.” She put her hand up. “I can carry him to bed.” She smiled apologetically. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s only I have spent the last five months practicing the art of getting him to bed without him waking up.”

Five months.
Beau noted that piece of information. It might have been a slip of the tongue, but he knew for sure the baby was older than five months, and mothers with young babies normally reeled off the exact number of months, days and hours since their baby came into the world. A doubt crept into his mind for the first time. Yet as Elise lifted Connor, he studied both their faces, and knew the resemblance was too much for them to be anything other than close relatives. So if Elise wasn’t the mother, then what?

An aunt? But why did she have her nephew, where was the mom? Maybe Gable had her and this was whom Elise was tracking down?

“Good night,” Elise said with a warm smile.

“Good night. Sweet dreams.” The words lingered on his tongue; he savored having someone in his life to watch over again. It was a phrase he had said so many times to his own sister. Five years her senior, he had been her protector, the person who was always there for her. Until she grew up and had her own life. A mild feeling of panic swept over him. Would he fail again?

Elise gave him another smile, which held the faintest hint of wistfulness. He watched her leave the room, and stood still for a few minutes, taking the time to put his thoughts in order before he switched off the lights and headed into his makeshift office.

Switching on the computer, he waited for it to warm up. It was old, a thing he had not updated because he rarely used it these days. Luckily it was hard-wired into the Internet, no hanging out of bedroom windows for a connection here.

Sitting back, he watched the display as everything loaded and then clicked the mouse, his hand feeling strange as it moved the cursor across the screen. Another thing he was out of practice with.

Pulling up the search engine, his fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then, instead of typing in Gable O’Donnell, he typed in
Elise Arnold
.

Her picture appeared. She was dressed in a business suit, a smile pinned to her face. It was a shot for the company of Realtors she worked for. It didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know, apart from the address. Going back to the search results, he scrolled though the first page, all of which were business related.

Until he came to the listings for social media. Searching again and including her city, he eventually came to her profile. Then he started going through her timeline. It hadn’t been updated for months. But one of the last posts said,
Sorry for your loss, Eleanor was a good friend
.

Eleanor. He searched for Eleanor Arnold, hoping she hadn’t been married. That would make things harder.

“Bingo!” There was a picture of a woman who looked so like Elise it was uncanny. “Twins!”

They had to be. There was too much of a resemblance for them not to be identical.

“OK.” He looked through the first page until he found what he was looking for. An obituary.
Loving mother of Connor, sister to Elise
. “Oh, damn, Elise. I’m so sorry.”

The first part of the puzzle had slotted into place. Whatever else this was all about, he was now sure of one thing. Elise was not Connor’s mom; she was his aunt. It didn’t make him feel any better. He would have taken on Connor as his own whether he was Elise’s son or not. What he couldn’t work out though, was why she was lying about it. Did she think it would make him more likely to help her if Connor was her child? Or was she thinking he would be keener to find the real father and pass Connor over to him so Beau could enjoy his mate all on his own?

He sat back in the chair and mulled it over. Maybe if he found out who this Gable character was, it might all seem a little clearer.

Fingers flying across the keyboard, he typed in the next name. The only hits on the name Gable O’Donnell did not fit the description Elise had given. Then he found a mention of the name as part of an organized gang going back five years.

Was it even him? More searches eventually led him to a picture; it showed a group of young men, a gang. With one man in the middle.
With eyes so dark they looked as if there was no life there, only death
. This then, was Gable O’Donnell.

He searched for another hour, but it was painstakingly slow: the guy was like a ghost flitting into life and then out of it. An alias, Beau had enough of those himself to know that was how it worked. You took on the persona of a person who met your needs, and the expectations of others, depending on the circumstance.

He switched off the computer, got up from the desk and stretched before heading outside. The fresh air filled his lungs and he looked up, the mountain beckoning.

Not tonight
, he told his bear and then turned back to look at the house.
I can’t leave them alone
.

His bear understood, of course; they were his priority now, and anyway, he needed some sleep, because first thing in the morning he needed to call his old friend Brad, the sheriff over in Bear Creek.

Chapter Seven – Elise

“I’ve made you breakfast,” he said to a sleepy Elise as she came into the kitchen with Connor in her arms.

She yawned, and said, “Thank you. I’ll just get Connor fed, and then I’ll eat.”

He held out his arms and took Connor from her. “I’ll feed him while you eat.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning. That had been the best night’s sleep she had had for weeks. Even Connor had slept through. So why did she feel more tired than normal?

“Absolutely.” He hummed to Connor as he picked up the bottle he had already warmed.

Her stomach rumbled, all memory of last night’s pizza gone. It was a long time since anyone had cooked her breakfast. She felt spoiled, she felt happy. A dangerous feeling to have. One slip-up and she would settle down here with her man and never think of Gable O’Donnell again.

Would that be so bad?
her bear asked.

Elise frowned. She was no longer sure. After one night under Beau’s roof, she would be willing to give up the chase. Picking up her knife and fork, she began to eat. Bacon, sausage and eggs, with toast and coffee. She certainly could get used to this.

“Where did all this come from?” she asked as she picked up a mushroom and ate it.

“I went into town very early this morning. I’ve bought enough food and supplies to last you for a few days. I should be back by the time you start running out.”

“Back?” she asked, nearly choking on her coffee.

“Yes.” He came and sat down next to her at the table, Connor sucking on his bottle contentedly. She couldn’t help but smile.

“From where?”

“From Bear Creek. I have a friend over there; he’s the sheriff. I asked him for help, and he has found some information on your Mr. O’Donnell. Didn’t want to say too much over the phone, so I’ve arranged to drive over.”

“And I’m coming too,” she said.

“No. It’s better for you to stay here.”

“Better for whom?” she asked.

“For Connor.”

She hesitated. Beau was right, but she couldn’t just sit around. “I’m coming.”

“No.” He said firmly.

“Then I’ll go alone. Or find someone else to help me.” She felt like a bitch. A real teeth and claws bitch. She knew that wasn’t an option for him. She knew he would want to finish this investigation because of her. Because it was now personal to him. Yet she couldn’t help it, she had to press his buttons, she had to see Gable. Maybe then she would decide how she wanted this to end.

“Let me do the running around. I’ll keep in touch, keep you up to date.”

She shook her head. “No. If you go, I’m coming too. That is the deal. I’ll pay you for the time you’ve worked on the case and head over to Bear Creek myself.”

“Brad won’t talk to you,” he insisted.

“Well, there’s no harm in me trying.” She calmly ate her breakfast, even though inside she was trembling with nerves. She wanted to carry on searching for Gable, but she also wanted Beau to be there by her side. If she took the wrong decision and something happened to her, she wanted Connor to be well cared for. And Beau was the man for the job.

He sighed. “Go and have a shower while I pack what we need. We leave in an hour.”

She ate her breakfast, a smile on her face. “Thank you.”

“I would say you are welcome, but I’d be lying.”

She nearly choked on her coffee at that one. “You are a sore loser.”

His face went deadly serious. “Yes. I am, because I know how high the stakes can be.”

“I understand,” she answered, feeling bad for her behavior. Almost too bad to finish her breakfast. But she was going to need her energy. Whatever was down the road for them, she was going to have to keep her wits about her.

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