Luke (Bear Shifter) (New World Shifters)
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Authors: Elodie Chase
Luke
New World Shifters
Elodie Chase
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and places depicted are fictitious or have been used fictitiously. They are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, be they living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2016 by Elodie Chase
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any way whatsoever without the written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Zoe
“Hey Zoe.”
I looked up from wiping down the bar. Carla was across the way, cleaning glasses with what was probably a rag that could've been cleaner. It didn't really matter, though. This wasn't really a classy bar or anything. It was more like a dive, and the clientele in the dimly lit establishment weren’t about to argue if the thing they were drinking out of was little bit crusty.
All they wanted was liquor, and most nights we couldn’t physically pour it fast enough.
“Yeah?” I answered.
“Don't look now, but your sexy charity case just walked in.”
I rolled my eyes at her, waving her words away before he heard her. “Shut up, will you? It's not like that. Besides, I feel bad for him, that’s all. He’s down on his luck and needs a friend.”
Carla shrugged, even though she gave me a knowing look. She was a good fifteen years older than me, but to hear her tell it that number rose to about a hundred when she wanted to impart one of her many life lessons. She had a story for everything, and she sure seemed to have made all the mistakes in the world.
She wasn’t so bad, though. I knew that she meant well. All she wanted was for me not to have to follow in her footsteps, and yet here I was, tending bar right alongside her in Barrow, one of the most remote towns in Alaska.
It was so bad that when we weren’t iced in, we were snowed out.
“It doesn't matter how loud I say it,” she told me sarcastically, “he's probably already too drunk to remember whatever he overhears. And he’s
certainly
too drunk to worry about it tomorrow.”
I sighed. If I knew what was good for me I’d probably be more willing to listen to her. Almost every guy up here in Barrow had a problem with the drink, but the man she and I were talking about was a rare exception.
The only problem he seemed to have with it was that he couldn't get it down his throat fast enough.
I looked over at the door as he staggered toward his usual table in the corner. Ignoring him would have been a hell of a lot easier if he wasn’t so damn hot.
I kept telling myself that loos shouldn’t mater, but there was no doubt that he was absolutely gorgeous. His body was lean and finely muscled, and his chiseled jaw and high cheekbones were so sharp and noble that they looked like they were carved from marble. Just above them, his eyes occasionally blazed so blue it looked like the iris bled into the whites.
He was a quiet drinker, and most nights he’d sit in his spot and drink and drink until it was last call. He didn't bother anyone, and he'd been here often enough that it felt like he was starting to become part of the furniture.
“Don't you dare go talk to him,” Carla whispered fiercely in her best mother-knows-what's-good-for-you tone. “He's nothing but trouble. Trust me on that.”
My brain knew that she was right, but my gut thought she was just being an old stick in the mud. Something about him always set off alarm bells up and down my spine, but I couldn't look at him for even a moment without my heart beating faster and my breath catching painfully in my throat. Yes, he was definitely trouble, but he was probably the
good
kind. The
fun
kind. The deliciously naughty, I-can't-believe-I'm-doing-this-kind, and the possibilities were endless with a guy like that.
Or so I told myself. In reality, he was probably going to drink himself into an early grave, but I was nothing if not a hopeless romantic…
“Mark my words,” Carla said as she set aside a mostly clean glass and started to wipe down a mostly dirty one, “before the month is out somebody in this bar is going to perforate him. He’s an outsider, no matter how much he drinks. You've heard how they've been talking, when he isn’t around. If you really want to get up close and personal with that loser, the best thing you could do for both you and him is to talk him into moving on.”
It was true. I'd heard a few whispered conversations about him, and lately the low rumbles had begun to escalate into something will a little more purpose. None of the locals liked him. Well, that wasn't exactly true.
Most
of the locals were smart enough to steer clear of a bar like Bruno's, but the alcoholics that made up just about every dollar of our business were starting to take a dislike to him.
And there wasn't even really a good reason for it. They didn’t trust him because he was new, and they saw his good looks and sharp features and took him to be nothing more than a pretty boy.
He was young too, and that didn't help his case much. In a town where the average male’s age was something close to forty-five, this guy looked like he was barely out of his twenties. He should've been looking for gold in the Yukon at that age, or setting traps and making a living from meat and fur. Alaska was a rough place, and if you weren’t willing to fight back it would take everything from you in the blink of an eye.
Maybe there was more to him than they saw, though. That’s what kept me curious about him. He may have been young and he may have been sexy, but there was a resolve in him that drew me like a moth to a flame.
Besides, Alaska may be a harsh mistress, but there was a lot good to be said for the place, too. Just about everyone in Barrow was running from something, and we'd all found that here, right here in this remote little town, we’d found a spot far enough away that the people who wanted us either couldn’t be find us or were too afraid to follow.
The young man kept his head down and took his place in the corner just like always, and I took a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge and brought them over before he had a chance to signal for them. I wouldn’t charge him. Instead, I’d pay for them out of my own pocket at the end of the night.
It was the least I could do, I told myself. Even if I was contributing to his problem, at least I was saving him a couple of bucks that could go toward some hot food in his belly and a roof over his head to protect him from the harsh winter that held us in its grasp.
Bruno’s was quiet, tonight. I didn't think I'd ever seen him in here this early, and there were only three other patrons that I had to pass as I walked from behind the bar to his table.
“Here you go,” I said, sitting down across from him without being invited. I set one of the beers in front of him, and brought the other to my lips. I was sure there was some law against drinking on the job, some responsible service of alcohol thing that the State Government would probably lose their shit over if they saw a bartender sharing drinks with customers, but those sort of rules don't apply up here. No, in a place as rough and tumble as Barrow, you did what you had to do in order to get by.
And right now, I don't think he wanted to be drinking alone.
I know I sure didn't.
“Thank you,” he said, the words ever so slightly slurred. “I appreciate that.”
“Don't mention it,” I said. Even though he'd been coming in for at least a month, I hadn't yet gotten up the courage to ask his name. He paid cash too, which meant there wasn't a credit card for me to check. I don't think anyone in town had gotten an answer from him when they demanded to know who the hell he was, which went some distance toward increasing the air of mystery that surrounded him.
I'd certainly introduced myself to him, though, which made it all the more disappointing when he stared at me blankly for a moment and said “Um, don't tell me, it's in here somewhere…” he told me, trailing off as he tapped his temple with his finger absently.
“It's Zoe,” I said, more than a little frustrated. It’d be just my luck that the only guy anywhere near my age in this one horse town wouldn't want a damn thing to do with me. Not that I figured I should be that surprised.
I mean, the guy looked like a God fallen to earth. I wouldn't be surprised if there were bloodied, broken stumps of angel wings on his back, since he was just about beautiful enough to have come straight from heaven. A man like that wouldn't want anything to do with me anyway, so there was probably no point in getting my hopes up for more than the casual conversation that we were having right now.
And this was hardly the first time I’d had to remind him of my name. It was getting old, but I guess I was a glutton for punishment. Besides, there was
something
about him that wouldn’t let me go. Some spark, some almost spiritual connection that I felt when I stared into those blue eyes that heated me up and made me forget all the things I was running from I the lower forty-eight.
If you can see salvation in a person's face, then maybe you can find solace there too.
I shook myself as a shudder ran through me.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his hand almost reaching for mine before he thought better of it and pulled it back.
Before I could answer, the door at my back opened and a string of men stomped in, tracking in snow that would soon melt and puddle on the wooden floor. The howling wind came right in with them, and I pulled my thin T-shirt closer to me as I hugged myself in order to try and keep whatever warmth I had close.
The damn shirts were the only thing that passed for a uniform around here, and that was just because it was easy to see our bras through them…
The newcomers were loud, and they were eager to drink. I sighed and took another long sip of my beer before leaving the rest of it on the table for him. “Just have a good night,” I told him under my breath, trying to keep my voice low so as not to attract attention from the men who’d just come in. “Drink the one you've got and have mine, then keep your head down and stay safe.”
He looked at me, and not for the first time those blue eyes pierced my heart. “You too,” he told me, with a sincerity I don't think I've ever heard a man use within the town’s limits.
“I do my best,” I said as I smiled at him, trying to guard myself against the feelings I could already feel growing.
“Don’t let yourself get hurt,” he whispered, though his voice cut right to my soul.
“It's a little late for that, honey. But don't fret, it didn't happen on your watch,” I answered, trying to get out of there fast as I pushed myself to my feet.
He nodded, though he didn’t break his gaze from mine. “In that case, I won't let anyone hurt you again.”
I didn’t answer. What’s a girl supposed to say when I guys says something like that, anyway? Instead, I hurried back to the bar before I could say anything else stupid, though the whole way I felt eyes on my back and wondered if they belonged to the guy I’d been sitting with or the lecherous gazes of the Wolf pack that even now was taking seats around two large tables in the center of the room before angrily shouting at Carla and I to bring them beer.
I was more than a little shaken up by what he’d said… It was such an odd thing to tell a stranger. For one, he didn’t know the first thing about me or my past. He could no more protect me than I could protect myself. Besides,
he
was the one that was supposed to be watching his step, not me…
“Are you crazy?” Carla asked, her sharp tone dragging me out of my thoughts and back down to earth.
I shrugged. At least she wasn’t looking at me. The rowdy guys had her attention. If I had answered, though, I would have said yes. I
was
crazy. Stir crazy.
The wilderness around Barrow held its own sort of peace, but I didn’t get a chance to enjoy it. Instead, all I had to look forward to was long hours waiting tables and short minutes of sleep before I did it all over again. What little downtime I had was just me and four walls and a TV with bad reception in an expensive, moldy motel room. I didn't have any friends up here, and if wanting a little bit of company was a crime, then I figured it was just about time the sheriff came and locked me up.
I risked a glance over at the cute guy again, and saw that he was finished with his beer and working on mine.
I sighed. Maybe he
was
as bad as all the others. Maybe I was getting fooled by how hot he made me and not seeing what the real picture was.
Maybe
…. But I couldn’t fight the fact that I got a good vibe from him. Despite his size and obvious strength, he’d always been gentle with me. He’d never raised his voice or his hand in anger, and there was something in the way he spoke that told me there was thought behind the words.
He was also entirely unlike the other men around here. Truth be told, he’s just about nothing like any of the guys I've ever known, my own father included. I didn't want to settle for a man that might not want me, but I was starting to understand that up here I may well be alone for a
very
long time before I found someone that truly sparked my heart.
And that was okay. I wanted companionship more than I wanted sex. Amazon still delivered to the extremes of Alaska, after all. The shipping was a bitch to wait for and the freight fees were exorbitantly expensive, but I could fast track a couple of vibrators and enough batteries to make a desire for sex not that high on my list of priorities, if necessary.
He may have been beautiful to look at, but the few times we'd spoken told me that what I really wanted him for was a connection. Even though he
still
probably couldn’t remember what my name was, just being in his presence made me feel alive.