Hunter Bear: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Enforcer Bears Book 2) (3 page)

He couldn’t get close and hurt her. He’d promised himself he’d never make the mistakes his own father had made.

But as long as he was in the area to hunt the jaguar, surely it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on her. That wasn’t love. That wasn’t even friendship. That was simply looking out for another human being. Anyone would do the same.

In the back of his mind, his bear was laughing at him again.
Keep lying to yourself!

Steven clenched his jaw in response.

“I’m waiting… and working,” Cleo said with a deep sigh. “I still need to sand the porch and give it a new paint job. Anyway, it’s just as peaceful here as I remember. Of course, we had no jaguar threats when I was a child…”

“Sorry for that. I’m doing my best to keep your house jaguar-free,” he said.

She gave him a little laugh, soft and delighted. “You better! I didn’t polish the floor for hours to have a big cat scratch it all up again.”

He couldn’t look away from where a reddish curl was teasing against her lips.

For a moment, they kept staring at each other. Steven felt strangely breathless. It was that same exhilaration he felt when he’d run for hours and finally made it to the top of a mountain, or when he’d managed to cross a roaring river.

No, no, no. This isn’t happening,
he thought again, helpless against the warmth that kept rising in him.
I can’t do this. It’s too dangerous…

“Anyway. I guess I should go and polish and paint some more,” she said quietly. “Good luck with the hunt.”

Her eyes were gleaming, the green reminding him of newly unfurling leaves in spring.

“Thanks,” he said. He still couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. “And I promise, no more meetings like that first time you saw me.”

She gave him another little laugh at that, and her cheeks flushed a little. His own face felt hot as well. Why was it so unsettling to talk to her?

It was
too
easy
to talk to her, that was what was wrong. It had never been easy to talk to strangers for him. That’s why he avoided humans. That’s why he preferred to run wild.

But something about her made him feel at ease. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know what made her laugh. He wanted to hear more of those stories from her childhood.

No,
he told himself again, helplessly watching as she started the car and continued down the street.
No matter how good it feels now, I know it wouldn’t end well.

You can’t know until you try,
his bear said, his voice gentle for once.

Steven pretended he hadn’t heard.

***

Water dripped from Steven’s head, and he shook himself like a dog, drops flying into all directions. After he’d last seen Cleo, a week had passed during which he hadn’t talked to a single human being.

Just how I like it,
he thought at his bear, who’d been sulking all this time.

He’d found another fresh trail a few days ago. Paw prints had led into another small creek, but he’d lost the jaguar’s scent in the water again.

It was almost like the beast was teasing Steven. He’d track him without result for days, and then, just when he thought that the jaguar had moved on, there’d be another paw print, or another fresh scent where the big cat had rubbed against a tree.

He can't hide forever. Sooner or later I'll catch him. There has to be a reason he stays close to this lake. He must have a hidden lair somewhere...

A bird made an angry sound, chiding him from the vantage point of a branch high above him.

Steven grinned and brushed the wet hair out of his eyes, and then he concentrated.

Shifting came as easily as breathing to him. Since childhood, he'd preferred the form of his bear. It meant that he didn't have to listen to his father shouting or his mother crying. He didn't have to feel afraid or small or helpless.

The form of his bear had given him strength back then. He'd hidden away with his animal as often as he could. And as soon as he was old enough, that was the life he had chosen: the life of a wandering bear, never settling down, always finding new adventures. The odd job of tracking down a shifter who'd caused trouble wasn't exactly lucrative, but it was enough money for someone like him who didn't need much.

All he needed was the forest, moss beneath his paws and blue sky above his head.

Steven inhaled deeply. The scents of the forest filled his senses: wet stones, old leaves, ripening berries, the clear, sharp scent of fir needles releasing their aroma where he’d stepped on fallen branches.

When he exhaled, all the sensations suddenly grew in intensity. A shock like lightning ran through his body as everything seemed to expand. His nose twitched, recognizing three different, old deer trails. His ears heard the rustling of a mouse in a bush, and the hungry cries of newly hatched birds in one of the trees nearby.

He'd shifted, as easily as that.

Like every time he returned to this form, a wild elation filled him. His paws itched to run.
This
was who he was meant to be. This was his home: the forest, the sky, the wilderness where no one had expectations.

It was freedom, and it was all his.

A joyful roar escaped him, and then he set off north, circling once more all the spots where he'd fount jaguar prints before.

He ran and ran, pausing every now and then to sniff at spots of particular interest—but today, there were no new scents to demand his attention. The jaguar had a very distinctive scent, sharp and jarring, but even though Steven searched all the spots where he'd found traces of the shifter rubbing against trees or climbing rocks, today he had no success.

It took him several hours, and in the end, Steven had circled the entire lake. He still couldn’t make rhyme or reason of the places where the jaguar kept reappearing, but the one thing they had in common was that he never seemed to move very far from the lake and the forest surrounding it.

Which in turn reminded him once more of Cleo.

He skidded to a stop when right at that moment, a familiar scent caught his attention.

Cleo!

Now that he looked around, he could see that he was close to her house. Too close for comfort—although he was certain that his brother would find some sort of explanation if Cleo called in distress because there wasn't just a jaguar, but an additional bear roaming around outside her house.

Better not to chance such a thing. It was bad enough that his hunt had led him so close to her. He might not be buck naked this time, but surely the fact that he was a bear wouldn't work in his favor either.

Carefully, he made his way forward. He'd left his clothes not far away. He'd circled the lake once; it was perhaps half an hour from here to the little rocky outcrop where he'd found a tiny, natural alcove to leave his belongings. He'd just have to make it past Cleo's house safely.

His nose twitched as he inhaled the air once more. Her scent was more distinct now... and a moment later, he heard the sound of feet coming down a path.

Steven was well hidden in a thicket of thorny bushes more than a stone's throw away from the shore of the lake. There was no way that she would be able to see him.

Still, the sight of her coming out of the wood on the path that led to her house was enough to overwhelm the bear in him once more. It was as if simply looking at her was enough to calm a part of him that had always been restless and needed to run. When she was near, there was none of that overpowering urge to escape everything that threatened to chain him down. Instead, all he wanted was to keep looking at her.

She was gorgeous. The way she moved, hips swaying, hair tousled by the wind, made something inside him feel all breathless. She was as much at home in the forest as he was. The loneliness of her house by the lake didn't bother her.

She was carrying a fishing rod in one hand, and a book in the other. His sensitive nose could make out coconut-scented sunscreen. As he watched, she walked down the small wooden pier, and then climbed into the little boat tied there.

Steven huffed in relief.

Good.
Out on the lake, she'd be safe. The jaguar wouldn't follow her into the water. It seemed intent on hiding in the forest; he'd never seen it swim out into the lake.

Also, this meant that he had no reason to stay around and watch, because she'd made it safely into the boat. So if he'd watched her to make sure the jaguar wouldn't attack, that meant that he could move on now and get back to his clothes...

Or we could wait for our mate to return,
his bear suggested.

Steven tensed at the word.

We're here to work,
he replied silently and ignored his bear's unhappy growl.

Instead, he pointedly turned his back to the lake, and then began to make his way out of the thorny thicket from which he had watched her. He still had a bit of a walk left to where his clothes were hidden. And he had absolutely no reason to linger.

Ha,
his bear snorted once more.

Cleo stretched lazily. Her book was resting on her lap. She felt pleasantly warm and relaxed. She'd drifted on the lake for an hour in her boat, with her fishing rod propped up beside her. She'd gotten lucky right away and pulled out a trout that she planned to grill for dinner later on—but since then, no fish had bitten.

She didn't mind, though. She'd decided to go fishing because she needed a break from the endless repairs and scrubbing of the house. An hour or two on the lake seemed like the perfect excuse to read a bit and enjoy the sunshine. And out here, she didn't even have to feel bad because of the roaming jaguar.

"I wonder if he caught him yet," she murmured, her eyes turning towards the shore.

Everything was quiet and peaceful. There were trees and hills as far as she could see. On the other side of the lake, she could make out wooden piers and the roofs of the houses Jeremiah Higgins had bought to turn into luxury retreats.

There was no sign at all that a dangerous animal was roaming the forest. She still wasn't quite sure whether she really believed that story—but then, it had been vetted by the police.

She sighed. "Better safe than sorry…"

And it wasn't as if she had planned on day-long hiking tours through the forest. She'd come with the intention to hole up in the house and give it all the scrubbing, painting and polishing it needed, and then use what time remained to draw.

So far she’d done a lot of scrubbing, and almost no drawing. The one time she'd taken up her pen and sketchbook again, she ended up sketching the naked body of the stranger in her pond. It had embarrassed her so much that she'd slapped her sketchbook close in horror as soon as she’d realized what she’d done.

At least it's better than drawing Walter...

A splashing sound broke through her thoughts.

She quickly grabbed her fishing rod as something began to pull on the line. It took her several minutes until she managed to get her catch into the boat—it was another rainbow trout, but this one was almost twice as large as her first fish.

Her hands hurt from how hard the fish had pulled. It had fought her for a while. When it broke the surface of the lake, the strong body had tugged so hard on the line, squirming back and forth, that now her hair and her shirt were damp with water. Still, she was laughing even as she was wrestling it into the small bucket where the other fish was already waiting, feeling triumphant. All the memories of going fishing with her Grandpa had returned. He'd be proud of her for pulling in such an exemplary trout!

"That's enough to feed three," she murmured as she watched the fish twist angrily in her bucket. "Although I hope I won't have a jaguar as guest."

Again she looked towards the shore, wondering whether Steven was still in the area. She hadn't seen him for a week. She was almost curious enough to call his brother again and use the jaguar as an excuse to find out more about Steven, but so far she'd been able to resist.

I should call Sidney and ask if she can find out more... But if I tell Sidney how I met him, she'll never stop teasing me.

Worse, Sidney would probably try to talk her into asking him out for a date. And Cleo wasn't sure whether she was up to something like that again.

I don't even know him,
she told herself.
I keep thinking about him because he's incredibly hot and mysterious and the way he smiled at me was...

She bit her lip when heat rushed to her face, even as a similar heat pooled between her legs. She shifted awkwardly.

It was impossible to stop thinking about him. And that was a problem all of its own, because she'd come here to heal from Walter, and not to dive head over heels into the next terrible decision.

Dinner first,
she decided when the looked at her heavy bucket once more.
And then maybe more painting. And no more thoughts about 'what ifs'. He's just a random stranger who'll move on soon. Actually, maybe he has already moved on!

Determined, she took up the oars and began rowing back towards the shore. It felt good to feel the strain of her muscles; it distracted her from all the thoughts about things she couldn't change.

The sun was still shining down onto her. The day was gorgeous. It was warm enough that a bath in the lake seemed tempting now.

And just at that thought, she saw a head break through the surface of the lake further north. It was at a safe distance from her own pier, but she recognized the head with the wet, brown hair hanging into the swimmer's eyes immediately.

Steven!

Something inside her clenched, heat coiling inside her belly once more as she remembered how he'd looked standing inside her pond, the firm muscles, strong thighs, broad shoulders all gleaming wetly in the sunlight.

Before she could think about what she was doing, she raised a hand and waved.

Steven hesitated a moment, than raised his own hand to wave back.

Suddenly determined, she gripped her oars harder and picked up the pace, rowing past her pier and further north until they were close enough to hear each other.

"Hello neighbor," she called out, unable to help the smile that spread over her face.

This really wasn’t like her at all. And this was definitely a bad idea.

But hadn't she come out here to make a break with who she’d been before? Maybe she should try to be the sort of person who made choices like this!

"Any luck today?" Steven called back and nodded towards her boat.

She laughed and raised her bucket, then realized that he couldn't see what was inside.

"Are you hungry?" she shouted. "Consider yourself invited for dinner if you are!"

For a moment, Steven just stared at here without replying. She felt her heart sink in her throat—it had been a bad idea, she'd known that! Why would he—

A sudden splash distracted her. Steven was swimming towards her, parting the water with powerful, certain strokes. She had to swallow again as she watched him. He seemed so at ease in the water—it was like watching an Olympian level athlete in his element.

“Hey,” he said when he finally reached her, grinning widely. Water dripped from his hair. “Um. I’m not actually—I mean, this time I’m wearing shorts!”

Cleo stared at him, and then she started laughing, she couldn’t help herself.

“Thanks for telling me,” she said, once she’d been able to calm herself again. “I mean, I’m glad!”

No, you’re not,
a voice whispered inside her head, and she couldn’t quite bite back a grin.

“Anyway, I caught more than I can eat,” she continued. “So in case you are hungry and you don’t have other plans… Actually, I never asked. Where do you live? Do you drive out from the town every day, or did you rent one of Higgins’ houses?”

“Oh, I’m camping out here until I get that beast.” Steven didn’t quite meet her eyes. He took hold of the side of her boat with one hand.

Fascinated, Cleo stared at his fingers. His hand was large, and despite the life he must lead out here, it was clean and free of scratches or bruises.

But there had been scars on him. All of a sudden, she remembered the long lines across his back. Had that been a wild animal he had been hunting, like the jaguar?

“Well, if you feel like a barbecue tonight, like I said, you’re invited.” Suddenly she couldn’t quite meet his eyes either.

Her gaze lingered at his shoulder. There was another scar there, old and pale.

“Thank you.” His voice was soft. His fingers tightened around the wood. “I think I’d like that that. If you’re sure you don’t mind…”

Finally their eyes met. Cleo thought she saw uncertainty in his. Was he as surprised by her actions as she was?

She felt the familiar itching in her fingers again. She wanted to grab a pen and sketch the way his skin gleamed in the sunlight. She wanted to reach out and touch his hand, trace those scars to find out what stories they would tell.

Instead, Cleo straightened and took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. Something about him unsettled her. It wasn’t just the fact that he was incredibly sexy—and she was the best judge of that, as she’d already seen all those incredible muscles.

No, something else drew her towards him. It was like he was a painting just waiting to be put onto paper. Something inside her recognized that he meant something—but she couldn’t yet figure out what it was.

Perhaps I should draw him. Really draw him, not just a quick sketch. Maybe I’ll think clearer if I can just get it all out of my head and onto paper…

At that moment, a roar rose from the forest before them. It was an eerie sound, anger and loneliness twisted into a cry that rose and fell.

Cleo shuddered instinctively.

“The jaguar!” they both said at the same time.

“I have to—” Steven began.

Cleo nodded quickly. If she had doubted him before, she no longer did. That sound had definitely come from a large, angry animal. “Of course. I’ll get back home and lock the door. No walks in the wood, I promise.”

“Sorry about the dinner.” He gave her an apologetic look, and then his hands released the boat.

“Some other time then,” she called out after him, watching him glide through the water with powerful strokes.

So much for her first date after Walter. Maybe it just hadn’t been meant to be.

Once more her eyes rose towards the woody hills that lined the lake. Everything looked peaceful. The sun was still shining brightly. A breeze had sprung up, and gentle waves were lapping at her boat, rocking her gently as if the lake wanted to lull her to sleep.

But somewhere out there, a wild jaguar was roaming, and Steven had dedicated himself to hunting it down.

She shivered despite the warmth. Then she took up the oars once more to hurriedly row back to her own pier.

I hope he’ll be safe…

***

The next morning, Cleo woke with the sunrise. She'd had an uneasy night. She'd woken up several times and listened to the wind howl around her small house, wondering how Steven was doing.

Had he caught the jaguar yet? Had the jaguar escaped him again? Worse: what if Steven was wounded?

She pressed her face against her window. Outside, everything was quiet. The trees swayed gently in the breeze. She watched as two squirrels raced across the path that led from her house towards the lake.

With a sigh, she finally turned away from the window and began to make coffee. But once she held the steaming mug in her hand, she found herself drawn towards the window once more.

I should have asked for his number. Or given him mine. He could at least have told me that he's fine that way. If he even has a phone…

She supposed she could call his brother down in Linden Creek and see if he had heard anything, although the thought embarrassed her.

"Maybe if I make it sound like I'm worried about the jaguar, and not hoping for a date with his brother," she muttered to herself, and then took a sip of her coffee.

One of the squirrels came racing up a tree as she watched, chattering loudly and angrily.

A moment later, she could see what had annoyed it so: a stranger had entered the squirrel's territory.

No, not a stranger. Steven!

She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him approach.

He looked good: No wounds that she could see. He wore simple jeans and a white shirt that he'd only half buttoned up. The tips of his hair were still dark and damp, as though he'd washed before he came to visit her.

Her heart was beating faster in her breast. Could it be...?

She hurried towards the door and opened it before he'd made his way to her patio.

"Hello, neighbor," he said in greeting, his eyes gleaming at her.

"Morning," she replied, trying to lean casually against the doorframe, although she couldn't help the answering grin that spread over her face.

"I thought I'd let you know about the jaguar. In case you were worried."

"I
was
worried!" She gave him a searching look: no scratches, no bite marks that she could see. "Did you catch it?"

Steven shook his head and sighed. "I lost his trail in the water again. He keeps showing up and vanishing, as if he's taunting me."

"Have you thought of bringing in dogs to track him down?" she asked, her eyes still lingering on the impressively muscled triangle of his chest that was visible.

His lips twitched. "I'm pretty good at tracking myself. And I work better without dogs. Makes the camping easier for me, too..."

"Have you lived out here all this time? It’s been more than a week!" Now she was even more impressed. And more worried.

Camping was one thing. She'd sometimes spent a weekend out in a tent with her Grandpa as well, exploring one of the small islands in the lake. But there had been no wild jaguars around then...

"Just until I catch the beast." He was still smiling, although one of his hands rose to brush the still damp hair out of his eyes.