The Bear Is Back In Town: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Return To Bear Bluff Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  The Bear Is Back In Town

  Copyright

  Foreword

  Chapter One – Steph

  Chapter Two – Dylan

  Chapter Three – Steph

  Chapter Four – Dylan

  Chapter Five – Steph

  Chapter Six – Dylan

  Chapter Seven – Steph

  Chapter Eight – Dylan

  Chapter Nine – Steph

  Chapter Ten – Dylan

  Chapter Eleven – Steph

  Chapter Twelve – Dylan

  Chapter Thirteen – Steph

  Chapter Fourteen – Dylan

  Chapter Fifteen – Steph

  Chapter Sixteen – Dylan

  Chapter Seventeen – Steph

  Chapter Eighteen – Dylan

  Chapter Nineteen – Steph

  Sneak Peak of His Bear Necessity

  Chapter One – Amanda

  Chapter Two – Jed

  Get In Touch

  Also By Harmony Raines

  The Bear Is

  Back In

  Town

  Return to Bear Bluff

  Book One

  Copyright

  ***

  All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written consent of the author or publisher.

  This is a work of fiction and is intended for mature audiences only. All characters within are eighteen years of age or older. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, actual events or places is purely coincidental.

  © 2016 Harmony Raines

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  The Bear Is Back In Town

  Ten years is a long time to hide from your past. After a terrible accident, Dylan left Bear Bluff, his grandpa told him never to return. If he wanted to make a good life for himself, he was better off starting again, where no one knew who he was and what he’d done. Dylan took that advice, and worked hard to achieve success.

  But now he’s back. And what was supposed to be a short trip looks as if it’s going to turn into something much longer. Like forever...

  Steph doesn’t need a mate. Especially one as sexy and dangerous as Dylan Taylor. Why did he have to haul his leather clad hide back into Bear Bluff now? And why does he have to decide to ride past her on his motorcycle when she’s broken down on the side of the road? But more importantly - why does he have to be her mate?

  She’s had enough of men, doesn’t need one, especially one that is trouble on two legs. But Dylan might just be the man to prove she does need a man. A man like him; in her life and in her bed.

  This bear is back in town, and he’s going to stay, at least until he’s made Steph see he’s the one for her.

  Chapter One – Steph

  Steph had never understood the phrase about aching in places you’d never ached before quite so literally as she did now. After helping to load the truck with the timber she needed to fix the barn, she was now on the way back home; she only hoped the truck would get that far without giving up for good. It was on its last legs, and as they groaned out of the timber yard, she was guessing the old truck would have agreed with her about the aching muscles.

  “Come on, old girl,” she said affectionately as she pressed her foot down on the gas. The truck sped up, and she settled back into her seat, window open, enjoying the sights and sounds of Bear Bluff, the town she had grown up in. She loved it here, but had moved away to college, and then stayed away when she found a good job. Although work wasn’t the only reason she had stayed away. Her relationship with her father had always been fraught, not least because he had been what her mom affectionately called old-fashioned, which meant he thought women had their place, and men had a higher place, in the world.

  That wasn’t to say he hadn’t loved her mom completely. They were bonded mates, although only her dad was a shifter. Her mom was a mere mortal, which probably was a good thing, since her dad had passed away, very prematurely, a couple of years ago, when a tree in the forest crashed down on him. Luckily, he had not been in bear form, or the size of the coffin would have raised questions.

  Steph had considered moving back to Bear Bluff then; after college she would move back and find a job locally. But, soon after the funeral, she realized her brother, Paul, was cut from the same cloth as her father, and he thought their mom and Steph should be at his beck and call. In a quiet moment, her mom told her to make a good life for herself, and let her handle Paul.

  So she’d gone back to college, coming home on the holidays to find her mom and Paul had slipped into a routine that suited them both, and they were content, if not happy. Steph being here had upset that routine. She had argued with her brother over the amount of work he expected of their mom, who was beginning to get a bad back and could no longer cope with milking the cows alone, early in the morning, while Paul slept in.

  Steph’s visits had become more infrequent. She had tried to find a new life for herself, new friends, new experiences, but her bear always yearned for the mountains and the open air. So, on the day her mom phoned, tearfully telling Steph the farm was bankrupt and would have to be sold unless they could find a way to make money, she had packed up and come home.

  Paul had already left the scene, having blamed his mom and Steph, for the whole thing. Apparently Steph should have been there supporting him; instead, he had been alone in making business decisions, which had taken the small amount of money in the farm’s bank account, with no chance of return.

  “Urgh,” she said out loud, and the truck apparently agreed, because black smoke blew out of the exhaust, and the engine spluttered, made one last valiant effort to go on, and then died. “Story of my life.”

  The truck had been in Steph’s life since as long ago as she could remember. When she was a girl, the bright red paint had shone; now it was a dull rust color. She had always loved the truck. But never once had she lifted the hood to see how it worked.

  Sitting by the side of a deserted back road that barely saw any traffic was not the time to begin to ponder the intricacies of an engine. However, she was getting used to helping herself. Her time cost her nothing. When you had no money, she was learning there were lots of things she had never attempted before that she now enjoyed, and was good at. Such as hammering a nail straight, without hitting her thumb.

  Getting out and lifting the hood, it soon became clear auto mechanics was not going to be one of those things she learned by trial, error, and lots of practice.

  “One wrong move, and you are going nowhere ever again,” she said to the old truck. Which, thankfully, didn’t answer back. Steph was already on the road to insanity with all the hours of manual work she had been putting in to get the farm back on its feet. She had great plans for the place, but no cash flow was making things difficult.

  The timber in the truck was for the barn renovations, but the house repairs were going to take some more creative thinking. They needed to employ a plumber and an electrician, expensive, but essential. Steph and he
r mom were already working out what they could sell to get the money together. Even if they sold Steph’s laptop, and her mom’s scant jewelry, there wasn’t enough. There certainly was none to spare for a mechanic. But the wood had to get home somehow.

  “Damn it!” she exclaimed, shutting the hood after checking the basics, such as whether there was oil and water, and the most obvious things, like the battery still being connected properly. “What the hell do I do?”

  She took out her cell phone, and scrolled through her contacts, but there was no one she could call: most of the numbers belonged to people from her old life in the city. “Oh, crap.” No reception meant she couldn’t even call her mom and ask her to find someone to help.

  Leaning forward, she rested her head on the truck’s warm, faded paintwork, and felt like crying. But crying would not get her home. There had to be a way out of this.

  Then she heard it, way off in the distance: the sound of a motorcycle. A motorcycle! She had never been so excited to hear the rumble of an engine in all her life. Standing up, she went around the truck to stand in the middle of the road, knowing she was not going to let this chance go by. She was going to reach out and grab it, literally, with both hands if she had to.

  Only she didn’t have to, because he was going to stop, and she knew why. At least, if he was a shifter, he would know why.

  It started as a tingling in her tailbone, which threaded its way up her spine until it burst into her brain. She’d heard her friend Cassie talk about it once, how the sensations came out of nowhere, how they hit you square in the solar plexus, leaving you breathless, and before you had even set eyes on the man properly, you knew you had found your mate.

  “No, no, no,” she said, trying to will her legs to move, to run away. “This can’t be happening.” Not now, not when she was working so hard, diverting all her energy and strength to getting the farm back on its feet.

  The bike slowed, wobbling a little, she was sure. Did that mean he was a shifter? If not, she could step back, let him go by, and watch her mate ride straight out of her life again.

  No, you don’t, her bear said excitedly in her head, and she took a step forward, putting her on a collision course with the bike.

  “Damn it,” she said, cursing at her own luck. She knew she should be happy, knew she should be seeing this as the most momentous occasion in her life. However, all Steph could think of, was what if this man was similar to her father and her brother? What if he was the kind of man who wanted her to play the little wife, and be at his beck and call? That wasn’t a life she could live: she was free, independent, and no one was going to hold her back.

  The bike stopped about ten feet away from her, the rumbling engine so loud she wanted to cover her ears, but she didn’t. Show no weakness, assert yourself, that was the mantra she had lived by, to stop herself ever being the downtrodden woman she saw her mother to be.

  Tilting her chin up, she took a deep breath, ignoring the itch in her fingers. They wanted her to run to him, to touch him, to feel that sudden burst of electricity that mates feel on first contact. Tilting her chin up defiantly, she stood her ground as the engine was made silent. The rider got off; long, toned thighs encased in leather slid off the bike, and he stood up. Well-muscled shoulders, a broad chest, everything a woman could want in a mate.

  He will make good cubs, her bear insisted.

  Steph’s mouth went dry. She didn’t want to make cubs, not yet. She had work to do.

  He took a step closer, a little unsteady. Or was that her imagination? Then he lifted his hands, undid the strap on his helmet, and took it off. Even with his helmet hair he was the most handsome man he had ever seen, with a square jaw, covered in stubble, that gave him an air of ruggedness. His skin was tanned, telling her he was an outdoors kind of guy. He ran his hand through his nut-brown hair, making it look ruffled, the effect leaving him looking a little less dangerous.

  But nothing could hide the danger from Steph. She recognized him, even though he had left town more than five years ago, when they were both too young for the mating bond to make itself known. Dylan Taylor, trouble on two legs, death on two wheels.

  “Crap,” she said under her breath.

  His eyes were dark pools of desire as he sauntered up to her. “I heard that.”

  “You were supposed to,” she said, wanting to turn and run. Run and keep on running. She did not need this guy in her life. Not now, not ever. Fate was really doing a number on her, if this was whom it had decided she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with!

  “Is that any way to say hello to your mate?” he asked.

  “It wasn’t hello. It was goodbye,” she said defiantly.

  He chuckled, those dark eyes no longer filled with desire; instead, they danced with humor. Not exactly the devil incarnate. Or was he good at disguises? Dylan had been gone from Bear Bluff for so long, he could be anyone he wanted to be now. What if he had changed? He might be a good man, a man she could depend on.

  Stop it, she told her bear, realizing how her animal side was trying to influence her reactions.

  Give him a chance, her bear replied.

  He took a step closer, invading Steph’s space, and she liked it. Her own body was betraying her, and when he said, “Well, I don’t see you running.” she wanted to throw her arms around him and never think of running from him again.

  She swallowed her desire. “My truck is broken.”

  “You have four paws. If you wanted to run, you could run.” His voice made her hot in places she didn’t dare think about.

  “I can’t,” she said, hating herself for not taking as much as one solitary step away from him. Capturing her, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her into his hard, toned body.

  Then he bent his head and kissed her, and she knew she would never find the strength to run from him. But he didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

  Chapter Two – Dylan

  Her lips burned into his soul, branding him, making her his. This wasn’t why had come here; yes, he had been hell-bent on finding a mate and settling down, but not here in Bear Bluff, the town he had left ten years ago, when the death of Greg Franks became forever etched into his past, even if it was not etched onto his conscience.

  Dylan’s trip back to Bear Bluff was supposed to be low key. It was the reason he had used the quiet back roads, instead of cruising through town. He hadn’t wanted to be seen, didn’t need to be recognized. Fate had another plan, it seemed, as it so often did. Dylan had expected to visit his grandpa, the man who had raised him, and then leave in a few days. Meeting his mate turned all that on its head. Or did it make things clearer? This visit was to ask his grandpa’s advice, trusting in the wise words of the man who had told him not to come back and live in Bear Bluff, not if he ever wanted to escape his past.

  Now his past was going to be dragged up. She would want answers, answers that weren’t his to give.

  He had vague memories of the woman in his arms. They had attended the same school, but she was three years below him, maybe more. A girl who had been in his peripheral vision in his past, but was now the center of his world and his future.

  She simplified his life, making his need to search for a mate redundant, and yet she complicated it. If she wouldn’t leave Bear Bluff with him, he would be forced to live here, under the scrutiny of the townspeople for the rest of his life. That fateful night forever haunting him.

  Let it go, he told himself, as he pressed himself against her, wanting to be one with her, occupy the same space as her, joined, never to part. His kiss became more urgent, his hands longing to roam her body, and the thought of taking her here, in the middle of the road, was almost too much to bear.

  He wanted to claim her. Needed to claim her, before she was poisoned against him. Or before she came to her senses.

  That wasn’t the man he was. That wasn’t the mate he wanted to be.

  He sighed, his lips lingering over hers for a split second longer, before he pulle
d back, and looked down onto her flushed face. Her eyes were heavy with desire, her face turned up to his, wanting more. Slowly, awareness came back to her, and she blinked, looking around. Dylan could imagine her thoughts, because they mirrored his.

  Did the grass look greener, the sky more vividly blue? The world was different, more alive, more vibrant. More theirs.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  She looked at him, her expression clouded. “I don’t need you in my life.”

  A slap in the face. “I’m sorry. It seems fate says otherwise.”

  “Damn fate. Damn all of it. I have work to do.” She spun around and headed back to her truck, but he could see it cost her. The effort to pull away from him immense, when she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms.

  The old Dylan Taylor would have taken advantage of her. However, over the years, he had left a lot of the old Dylan Taylor behind. Coming back to Bear Bluff would test his resolve, test his strength of character. But the only person he really had to prove himself to was her.

  If only he could remember her damn name!

  “So what’s the problem with your truck?” he asked, following her, but not invading her space. He wanted to be invited in, and he would be, if he took it slow. Patience, one of his strongest virtues.

  She turned to look at him suspiciously. Her face was conveying the expression he had expected to be greeted with by everyone on his return. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be stuck here.”

  He grinned. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He went to the front of the truck; he remembered it from before, when her dad used to drive it into town. Then it was new, bright red, the envy of his grandpa. Summerfield, that was her name, something Summerfield. It would come to him, names often did. Especially in the long nights when his past played out in his mind, stopping him from sleeping.