A Wife For The Bear: BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (Bear Brides Book 3) (3 page)

Brad's frown deepened when he
glanced around the neighborhood. He had clearly taken a wrong turn.
This wasn't the way home. If anything, he was even farther from
home.

The street looked largely
uninhabited. There were only a few squat, crooked houses along the
street, and most of them were boarded up. Overgrown weeds covered
the front yards and he didn't see any lights in the windows. Brad
blew out a breath. This was probably a part of town that was waiting
for demolition and reconstruction. He had heard the announcement
that some older neighborhoods would be torn down and rebuilt in the
next couple of years. Moonstone Creek was getting a much needed
facelift. It was good for the town's image, good for tourism.

Brad was about to turn his
back on the sad, shadowy street when he heard an anguished cry.

It was a human cry.

He lifted his nose and found
the scent. The scent of fear and anger from a human female.

Brad barreled towards the
scent. The muffled sounds of a struggle grew louder, and the woman's
rising terror enraged his bear. Without warning, his bear burst from
him and thundered towards a low walk-up building at the end of the
street.

He saw the woman, on the
ground. She was struggling with a skinny man wearing a hoodie and
wielding a knife.

Although the man had her
pinned to the ground and had a dangerous looking knife in his grip,
the woman clearly wasn't letting the thug intimidate her into
submission.

She was trying her best to
wrestle the weapon out of the man's hand. The blade swished
dangerously close to her face as they fought, and Brad could hear her
grunts and curses.

She was scared, but she
wasn't letting her fear show.

With a roar, Brad swiped the
man away from her and flung the thug a few meters out onto the road.
The man yelled and scrambled up to face the raging brown bear. He
held his silver knife out in front of him like a talisman, waving it
in Brad's face.

“Silver, it's silver,”
he hissed.

Brad narrowed his eyes. Did
the little shit think that he would run away screaming like a girl at
the sight of silver? Sure, silver would kill him if it found his
heart. But Brad doubted this useless human male had the aim and
strength required to stick the silver blade in his heart. He was
just a worthless piece of shit who thought that a poor woman living
alone on a deserted street would be easy prey. Brad should just
finish him off. He was nothing but a waste of oxygen. And a waste
of his time.

Brad turned back to the human
woman. He wanted to make sure she was okay. The woman was clutching
her bag protectively in front of her, her eyes showing too much
white.

Her bun had come loose and
tendrils of silky, black hair fell across her pretty, heart-shaped
face. Her long-sleeved blouse was ripped, and her slacks were torn
at the knees. The woman was petite and curvy, and she had a
beautiful, exotic face.

As Brad stared at her, her
eyes grew even rounder and her arm shot up suddenly. “Look
out! Behind you!”

Brad jerked as he felt a
searing pain in his side. He twisted round and saw the hilt of a
knife sticking out from his body. The hooligan had taken a run at
him and buried his silver knife in his side. Brad bellowed. The
silver hadn't hit his heart, so it wouldn't kill him. But it hurt
and the pain made him mad as hell.

Brad gritted his teeth and
bore the burning pain in his side as he prowled towards the thug.
The man stared at the knife buried in Brad's side and gulped. He was
probably wondering why Brad hadn't keeled over and died. The look of
bewilderment and dismay on his face was almost comical. Brad would
have laughed if he wasn't in so much pain.

With a growl, Brad lunged at
the man. The man screamed and fled. Brad had never seen anyone run
so fast, arms flailing and screaming bloody murder.

He was about to give chase
when he felt a tiny hand at his side. “Y-you're hurt. I have
to get this out. It's a silver blade, and...you're a shifter.”

Her voice was like silk,
soft, gentle, caressing.

Brad turned to growl at her
but she didn't flinch. “Thank you for saving me. Now let me
repay you and save you right back. I'll get the knife out.”

Before Brad could respond,
she braced her palm against his shoulder and wrapped her fingers
round the knife handle. Her touch was warm and comforting, and
without realizing it, Brad found himself leaning into her, wanting to
get closer to her.

He inhaled her lush female
scent and closed his eyes. As far as he could tell, this woman was
human. Yet, there was something beneath her human scent, a whisper
of a predator…

Brad tried to identify that
strange scent but it floated away on the breeze and vanished.

He shook his head hard. He
hadn't imagined it. It was there, just for a moment…

The woman was counting under
her breath. “One, two, three!”

She stumbled back and
staggered a few paces before regaining her balance. Blinking up at
Brad, she gave him a small smile and held something up for his
inspection.

It was the dripping, silver
knife.

She had been true to her
word.

The little human had yanked
the knife out and saved him right back.

Lisha held the bloody knife
in her hand and stepped back. The imposing bear in front of her
shuddered violently and dropped to its knees. The brown fur rippled
and vanished, and the bear shifted suddenly to its human form. A
tall, muscular man with tanned skin and tawny hair knelt on the
ground, panting and wincing. There was a deep, ugly wound in his
side, and he looked a little pale from the blood loss.

Lisha ran forward to help him
up. “Let me help you back to my apartment. I can wash your
wound and bandage it,” she said, slipping under his heavy arm
to support him. The man made a guttural sound of pain, and she heard
him suck in a sharp breath as she hauled him unsteadily to his feet.

The man started to shake his
head, but Lisha persisted in dragging him towards her building. “Let
me dress your wound. It's the least I can do. You saved my life.”

The man closed his eyes as he
dragged more air into his lungs. Lisha knew the man was sniffing
her. He was a shifter, and shifters used their sense of smell to
detect danger and enemies. He was probably trying to ascertain if
she was a threat. Would she twist the silver blade in his gut now
that he was injured and vulnerable?

“I won't hurt you,”
she told him. “You're safe.”

He chuckled then. “You're
not scared of me?”

“Should I be scared of
you?”

“No.” His eyes
widened in alarm. “No. I will never hurt you. What's your
name?”

“Lisha.” He
growled and repeated her name in a whisper. The sound of her name on
his lips sent a delicious quiver through her body. She glanced at
his toned physique and let her eyes wander lower. With a start, she
caught herself and stiffened, appalled at her own dishonorable
intentions towards an injured, defenseless man. She swallowed and
said quickly, “I will never hurt you either, um...”

“Brad. I'm Brad
Jameson.”

“I'll take care of you,
Brad Jameson,” she said and started leading him up the stairs.
“My apartment is just on the second floor.”

He laughed softly. “You're
a brave human. Like my sister-in-law.”

“Your brother married a
human woman?” she asked, just to make conversation as she
unlocked her front door.

“Yep. They met on a
dating site. My brother signed my cousins and me up for the dating
site too.”

“Oh? Any luck so far?”
Lisha flicked on the lights and staggered towards the sofa. Brad
still had his arm draped around her shoulders, but it felt like he
was holding her even tighter than before. The poor man must be in a
lot of pain.

A slow smile spread across
his face. “Yeah. I just met the girl of my dreams.”

“Hmm,” Lisha
replied absently. She steered him towards the sofa, but he resisted.

“I don't want to get my
blood all over your nice furniture. I'll wash up in the bathroom, if
you don't mind.”

Lisha was about to retort
that her furniture wasn't that nice, and a little blood wouldn't
bother her. She had seen much more blood than that, and had come
across humans who were way scarier and more savage than any shifters
she'd known. She blinked away the terrible memories and nodded
towards the bathroom.

Brad was staring at her, so
she turned away quickly. “I'll get you some clothes,”
she mumbled and rushed to her bedroom. His gaze was direct and
assessing, and she felt as though he could see right through her.
Did he already sniff out what she was? Did he suspect who she was?

Lisha took a deep breath and
shook her head. No, of course he didn't know her past. She had only
just met him. He was simply a good Samaritan who'd rescued her from
a lowlife.

She changed quickly out of
her ripped clothes and pulled on a t-shirt and track pants. When she
emerged from her room with an old, cherished shirt and a pair of
faded jeans in her hands, she found Brad standing in her living room,
staring round her tiny, threadbare apartment. She saw that his wound
had knitted shut and he was already starting to heal. That was the
advantage of having shifter genes. Your body regenerated and healed
faster, even though the scars would always remain.

He spun round at her
footstep. He glanced at the clothes she held out to him and asked
gruffly, “Are these your boyfriend's clothes?”

“No. They are...were
my dad's.”

His throat moved. “I'm
sorry,” he said softly. “And thank you. I'll have them
cleaned and sent back tomorrow.”

She averted her eyes as he
dressed quickly. The clothes were a size too small and he had to
leave the shift unbuttoned. Not that she minded. It gave her a very
nice view of his toned, ripped torso. She might not be able to
touch, but she could certainly look. And that was enough for her.
She couldn't possibly hope for more.

“Would you...like some
tea?” she asked tentatively. What she really wanted to ask
was: Would you like to stay—for the night?

It would be nice not to be
alone for a change.

But it couldn't be helped.

This was her life. And she
would hold on to it, God damn it.

She would not be killed by
some evil syndicate which kidnapped and sold their own kind into
slavery and prostitution. Humans trafficking in humans.

The world was full of
predators. They were highly dangerous, brutal and cruel. And they
didn't even have fangs and claws.

“Yes. I'd love some
tea,” Brad said, breaking into her thoughts.

He returned her smile and
followed her into her bare little kitchen. When she handed him her
near empty biscuit tin, he opened it and carefully arranged the few
biscuits nicely on a plate without comment.

When the tea was ready, he
carried the two steaming mugs to the dining table and pulled out a
chair for her.

Lisha smiled. He treated her
like a princess, and behaved as though they were dining in a fine,
fancy restaurant instead of sipping weak tea and eating stale
biscuits in her cold, bare kitchen.

They drank their tea in
companionable silence for a while. Brad leaned back and glanced
around. Lisha was sure he noticed the glaring lack of ornaments and
photographs in her apartment. Her apartment was just a roof over her
head. It wasn't a home and there weren't any personal touches
anywhere to be seen. But Brad was a perfect gentleman and a most
polite guest. He didn't pass any comment that might make her feel
uncomfortable or self-conscious. Instead, he chatted amiably about
the new restaurants and shops that had just opened in town, and spoke
a little about his landscaping work. Gradually, she began to relax
and told him more about her work in the library. She had just moved
to Moonstone Creek about three months ago and the library was hiring
at that time. Her colleagues were great, and she was getting to know
some of the regular library users. “I used to be a web
designer,” she told him. “I was thinking maybe I could
do some freelance work.”

“That's a great idea,”
Brad encouraged. “You could design our website!”

“I'd love to.”

He held out his hand. “Then
we have a deal.”

Laughing, she let him shake
her hand even though she still thought he was joking.

Brad began to talk about his
family and clan, and she saw his eyes light up with pride and love.

“I'd do anything for
Cole, and my cousins, Dalton and Tony,” Brad declared. “We're
the last surviving Jameson bears. My whole family was slaughtered by
a rival bear clan when I was ten. I would have died if not for them.
They saved me, protected me, looked out for me. Cole and Dalton
founded the landscaping business and the Nightfire clan here in
Moonstone Creek. They built a life, a future for us,” Brad
smiled with obvious pride and affection. He turned to her and his
smile wavered a little. “What about you, Lisha?
Any...family?”