Second Chance Bear and a Baby: BBW Bear Shifter Baby Paranormal Romance (Who's the Daddy? Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Foreword

  Chapter One – Carla

  Chapter Two – Liam

  Chapter Three – Carla

  Chapter Four – Liam

  Chapter Five – Carla

  Chapter Six – Liam

  Chapter Seven – Carla

  Chapter Eight – Liam

  Chapter Nine – Carla

  Chapter Ten – Liam

  Chapter Eleven – Carla

  Chapter Twelve – Liam

  Chapter Thirteen – Carla

  Chapter Fourteen – Liam

  Chapter Fifteen – Carla

  Chapter Sixteen – Liam

  Chapter Seventeen – Carla

  Chapter Eighteen – Liam

  Chapter Nineteen – Carla

  Get In Touch

  Also By Harmony Raines

  Second Chance Bear

  and a

  Baby

  Who’s the Daddy?

  (Book Three)

  ***

  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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  Second Chance Bear and a Baby

  Does a bear deserve a second chance?

  Liam’s mate was murdered by a drug dealer. Now that same drug has given him a second chance. But will he ever find happiness? Can he live with the loss of one true mate, and learn to love another?

  These are the questions Liam must find the answers to, if he is ever to become a second chance bear.

  Carla first sees Liam sitting in the corner looking miserable, while all around him, his colleagues are celebrating finally destroying the drug dealers who have been selling Niq It. Drawn to him, she is surprised when he has a sudden change in personality and goes from seeing straight through her, to seeing nothing but her.

  However, she soon discovers there is much more to her party pooper, than she ever imagined. Can she give this bear a second chance at love?

  Chapter One – Carla

  “Listen, Mike, I’m going to be late for work. I have to go.” Carla tilted her head, propping her phone on her shoulder as she opened her car door and got in. Putting the key in the ignition, she tried to avoid looking at the clock. She knew she was late, she didn’t need the small LCD screen to tell her how late.

  “I understand, but there’s nothing I can do from here. I gave you my advice, and you chose not to take it. You two are old enough to work it out for yourselves.” She listened to him talking again, frustration growing inside her. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  She hung up, leaving her brother mid-sentence, or mid-moan. Damn, she was sick of hearing him whine like a teenager, but then do nothing to help him or his wife, Tammy. He had married his childhood sweetheart, and a child of their own had soon followed, putting strain on their relationship for the first time. It was a brutal awakening to the real world, when they were used to the carefree days of college.

  Sleepless nights, and a lack of money, had compounded to put so much strain on their fraught relationship that Tammy was threatening to move out. Deep down, Carla was sure Tammy was experiencing postnatal depression, but Mike wouldn’t accept it, and every time she had spoken to Tammy, she had brushed it off and said she was coping.

  Carla was sure she was going to have to make the trip across country to the city they had moved to, with dreams of a bright life under the neon stars. A baby sure took that away from them. She sighed. She’d been harsh with Mike; she would have to call him back later and apologize. A sister mouthing off at him wasn’t what he needed. However, she had tried every other angle, and gotten nowhere.

  Driving to work gave her a few minutes of peace, time to think things over and calm down. Her concerns for her brother and his new family were making her stressed and crabby; she needed to just head over there and bang their heads together. Or find some other way to make them see sense, perhaps if Tammy saw a doctor … or maybe they needed to move back home where their family could help them out with baby Sophia.

  As she pulled up into the parking lot, she figured she might just as well ask for the time off now: her boss, Howie, was always good to her at times like these. They had known each other since school, and along with her coworker, Eloise, he had been by her side through all of the trauma of growing up.

  He had seen how Carla had been preoccupied with this situation, and he was aware of how often she picked up the slack for the other waitresses, particularly Eloise. This was her first real family emergency in years, whereas Eloise must be on her twentieth, most of her own making, and usually involving a customer at Howard’s Steak House.

  “Hey there, beautiful,” Eloise said, shimmying up to her.

  “What do you want, Eloise?” Carla asked, giving her a quick hug before heading to put her purse away.

  “There is a bar full of cute men out there, and the cutest is sitting at one of your tables. Sooooo, I wondered if you would swap for the night? If they tip big, I’ll give you half.”

  “And who am I trading this cute guy for?” Carla asked, smoothing down her T-shirt and trying to ignore how the Steak House’s logo clung a little too tightly to her voluptuous breasts.

  “Well, this is supposed to be a celebration, it’s the guys from the Sheriff’s department and some other guys, not seen them before. I think they cracked a big drug ring or something. Anyway, there is one guy who is just not in a celebratory kind of mood. A couple of other guys are with him. But talk about a party pooper.”

  Carla laughed. “So you are saying he is right down my alley.”

  Eloise frowned and looked offended. “Honey, I don’t know what alley you are down, but this guy beats you as a party pooper any day of the week.” She sashayed off. “So that’s OK?”

  “Yes, Eloise. That’s OK. Just don’t go getting into some kind of trouble. I’m going to need a few days off to go and visit Mike.”

  Eloise’s face softened. “Young love’s dream still in tatters?”

  “Yep. I just want to go and check they are OK. Maybe try to persuade them to move back here. Would be so much easier to help them.”

  “And a city is no place to raise a child,” Eloise said and opened the door to the bar, from where sounds of laughter floated out. It sounded like this celebration was in full swing.

  A table with a party pooper suited her mood much better.

  “Hi, Howie,” she said to her boss as she went through the doors to be confronted by a scene of celebration that was quickly escalating. These lawmen sure knew how to let their hair down when they were off-duty. Her gaze swept around the bar area. She could predict who were going to be the troublemakers, and badges or no badges, some of these men were trouble
in the making.

  Her gaze rested briefly on Eloise, who was flirting so hard it was embarrassing. Carla smiled to herself, wishing she knew how to be that carefree, before she turned to look around the rest of the room. At the sight of the man sitting in a corner, with two friends who looked awkward to be around him, the smile slipped from her face.

  “Hi, Carla. Busy night tonight, you should do well, these guys like to leave big tips.”

  “Huh?” she asked, her eyes still fixed on the guy who was obviously Eloise’s party pooper.

  “Busy night,” Howie repeated.

  “Sure looks that way. I’d better get to work.” She smoothed down her skirt, which was a little too snug across her thighs, and headed into the fray. “What can I get you?”

  So the first half an hour passed, her eyes constantly drawn to the party pooper, who was eyeing the exit door. There was something so sad about him, it was almost tangible. Eventually, curiosity got the better of her, and even though they didn’t need drinks, she went over to check on them.

  “Hi there, fellas,” she said easily, trying to keep her gaze even so she was neither staring nor averting her eyes from the forlorn-looking man. She had practiced this enough to be an expert at it, but he was sorely testing her expertise. “Can I get you anything? The fries are a particular specialty of our cook.”

  One of the others looked up at her and smiled good-naturedly. “If all you have to recommend the cook by is his fries, does that mean the rest of his food stinks?”

  “Try the fries and let me know if they aren’t the best ever,” she challenged with a smile. “The rest of his cooking is amazing too, but his fries…” It was true, they had lucked out when Howie hired Jason. He had worked at some swanky restaurant for years, where they didn’t cook steak and fries and call it steak and fries; it had some fancy name that the patrons in Howie’s Steak House didn’t care about. All they cared about was what was on their plates, and if it was good. “If you want to add a steak to your order, he’ll cook them to perfection. Just let me know how you like it?”

  “You win, we could do with some food, and who could resist your sales talk?” He looked at his friend and the smile slipped off his face for a moment before he forcibly put it back in place. “Liam. You hungry?”

  For the first time the party pooper’s eyes seemed to focus inside of the room, instead of being in some distant place far away from the laughter and noise. “Not really.”

  “You need to eat anyway. Freddy?” he asked the other guy, who was watching Eloise flirting outrageously, an amused smile on his face.

  Freddy turned his attention to Carla, but didn’t look at her in the same way as Eloise. No one ever did. Carla was OK with that. She didn’t need the drama that came with being the center of attention.

  “Sure. Add some onion rings too, Joel.”

  She wrote down their order: three steaks with fries, one medium-rare, the other medium-to-well-done, and onion rings. “Any more beers?” she asked, her eyes fixing on Liam, who looked at her blankly before turning away.

  “Yes, another round,” Joel said.

  “Sure thing.” She turned back towards the kitchen and walked over to place the order, her head filled with the sorrowful face of Liam. Somehow he pulled at her emotions, perhaps because he looked so sad. In a crowded room full of people, he was alone. Carla knew that feeling all too well.

  “How is my special lady?” Jason, the cook, asked. He was younger than Carla, or at least he looked it: he had a baby face, and his blond hair and blue eyes did nothing to help him. Almost angelic, so the young girls in town often came over to hang out outside the steak house. The flirting that went on was outrageous, but Jason wasn’t cheap; he didn’t sleep around, especially with the girls who were barely legal, and Carla liked him for it. But not in the way he hoped. A cougar was not her style, despite Jason’s hints at a relationship.

  “Hey, Jason. How’s it going?” she asked, pinning the order up.

  “Busy night. All these boys in blue celebrating some drug bust.” He sauntered over to talk to her, apparently willing to ignore the orders piling up as he leaned on the solid wooden countertop. “Any of them give you any trouble, you let me know.”

  She laughed. “I will, but I think most of the trouble is going Eloise’s way.”

  He looked across the room to where the other waitress was telling one of her jokes, which ended with an eruption of raucous laughter. “Eating out of her hand,” he murmured.

  “Jealous?” she asked, her eyes filled with humor at the way the cook stood up quickly and brushed off her insinuation.

  “Not at all. She’s too old for me.” He abruptly turned away and went back to work, leaving Carla with the distinct impression she had hit a nerve. There she was thinking he had the hots for her, but he liked the vivacious Eloise instead.

  “Hi, honey,” a male voice asked from behind her.

  She turned to see Joel, a shot glass in his hand and an apologetic smile on his face. “Hey there. Do you need to change your order?”

  “No.” He looked nervous, his eyes flicking to the shot glass in his hand. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Sure.” She made her voice polite and friendly, but she was not prepared to get caught up in some weird shit with this guy.

  “My friend, the one who is so miserable.”

  “Yes.” Should she have pretended she didn’t know he meant Liam. Hell no, the guy sucked the life out of the room, of course she would know who he meant.

  “I got him this, but he’s gone outside for some air. Would you take it out to him … and make sure he drinks it? Might make him feel a bit better.” Joel held it out to her.

  “Why don’t you?” she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

  “I think he wanted to go out for some air, to get away from us and the rest of the crowd.”

  “Sure.” She took the glass, understanding his meaning: as a waitress she was almost invisible, non-confrontational, unless your name was Eloise.

  She cast a glance over to her friend, wishing in some ways she could attract at least some attention. But to do that she would have to become something she wasn’t, and dress as a person she couldn’t be. No, when the right man came around, he would like her for who she was, not whom she was pretending to be.

  “Will you stay while he drinks it? Please,” Joel called.

  She nodded, and pushed the door open, breathing in the cool, refreshing air, grateful when the door shut behind her, cutting off the noise from the bar. She could stay out here for the rest of her shift, if she didn’t have tables to wait. Not seeing the party pooper, she walked around the side of the building until she came across him. He was standing staring at the stars, totally unaware she was there.

  “Hi. Liam, isn’t it?” She smiled, it always set people at ease.

  “Yes.” He glanced at her, taking a moment to focus. “Sorry, is the food ready?”

  “Not yet.” She held her hand out and offered him the glass. “Your friend thought you could do with this.”

  He looked at it and then at her. “Thanks.”

  He held the glass in his hand. She wondered if it even registered in his brain that she had given it to him. She couldn’t force it down him, but if he didn’t drink it, she would have to go back inside, she had tables to wait on. It sure was good to stand here with him though; the air was cool, the voices from inside muffled. It was soothing to her head, and when she looked up at the stars, she wanted to stay out here and forget all about her life.

  At least for a couple of minutes. What harm could that do…

  Chapter Two – Liam

  Liam stood with the shot glass in his hand, his body heat making it warm, but his mind was too clouded to notice. In the same way, he was only dimly aware of the woman standing next to him; the pain of his loss hurt too keenly to allow any other thoughts in.

  For the last few months he had bottled up the pain that threatened to destroy him. Losing his mate had sent him to the e
dge of insanity, and only bringing down the drug dealers responsible for Niq It had given him focus. Now that was accomplished, he was adrift in a sea of hurt, with no way to shut it off.

  “I love the stars,” the woman next to him said.

  His gaze swept over her momentarily, and he tried to place exactly where he had seen her before. The warm shot glass in his hand jogged his foggy memory. She had given him this drink. He searched a little more, the veil over his memory lifting.

  “You’re the waitress,” he stated.

  She smiled. It was a kind smile, a concerned smile. “Glad I’m so memorable.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s been a tough few days.” It had been tough for longer than that, but she didn’t want to hear about his heartache, and he didn’t want to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about it, no matter how much Joel tried to get him to open up.

  “I can see. So why are you out here, when the rest of the guys are in there celebrating?” she asked, her eyes drifting up to the stars.

  “I lost someone.” The words were a struggle to get out.

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” She glanced back to the door of the bar, just as it opened and another woman stuck her head out.

  “Your tables need you, honey, orders are ready,” she said, looking at Liam with curiosity. “I hate to interrupt.”

  “It’s OK, I was on my way back in,” the waitress next to him answered.

  “As long as you’re OK, Carla,” the waitress at the door asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

  “I sure am, Eloise. Thanks.” Carla straightened up. “You going to drink that and I’ll take it back inside?”

  She pointed at the glass in his hand. Liquor had become his refuge at the most difficult times. On the days when he had been unable to sleep because her face haunted him, he would drink himself senseless, not caring if he woke up with a headache fit to split his skull in two. The pain meant he was feeling something, that his body still worked despite his heart having been cleaved in two.