Hero Bear: BBW Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance (3 page)

Chapter Three

Caleb might have overestimated how easy it would be to stand on his feet for hours. He thought he knew, from time spent standing at attention, long marches, guard duty— he’d spent most of his time as a Marine on his feet, seemed like. This was different. Aside from the fact that back then he’d had two good feet, now he wasn’t moving around as much, but had to stay right where he was, behind the register with Janine, the kid who was training him. Janine was just out of high school, but knew her way around the store like a pro. He’d have to ask her what kind of shoes were best, because his sneakers weren’t it.

“On Tuesdays it gets a little hairy cause that’s double coupon day,” Janine was saying. “You’re gonna get a handful of old biddies trying to give you expired coupons for things we don’t even carry, so you’ll have to check extra close. If somebody gives you a hard time, you can send ‘em to me if Mr. Smithson ain’t here.”

Caleb hid a smile at the idea of deferring a pissed off old lady to a kid, and nodded obediently. The work didn’t seem hard, just the standing. He’d expected his leg to ache where the prosthetic fit over his stump, but he hadn’t counted on the pins and needles in his good foot. Didn’t matter. He’d get used to it.

“Next customer that comes in, you can ring ‘em up,” Janine said. “You look like you’re getting the hang of it okay.”

They didn’t have to wait long, but Caleb wanted to crawl under the counter when the next customer walked in. That physical therapist from the other day, the one he couldn’t say two words to, walked in with a basket over her arm. “No, Momma, I have to go, I’m at the store. Love you.” She hung up her cell phone and nearly froze when she spotted Caleb behind the counter. Janine nudged him.

“Afternoon,” he said. “Welcome to Smithson’s.”

Janine nodded her approval, while Michaela— that was her name— looked like she wished she was anywhere else in the world. “Thanks,” she said, then ducked down an aisle. He hadn’t heard anything else from his bear since the other day; he figured it had been a fluke. Until now. He felt the beast stirring inside him, stretching and yawning. What was going on?

Caleb scoured his brain for something clever to say when she came to his register. Something to let her know that he wasn’t a stupid lunk. Should he apologize? He never worried about talking to Marty during their sessions, so why was he worried now? That was a stupid question. Marty wasn’t a sweet, voluptuous woman, Marty was pushing fifty and balding.

Janine chattered at him about something, but he listened just enough to figure out she wasn’t trying to teach him about the job, just saying something about her rowdy brothers. He knew the Ellis brothers, all right. Janine was too young to have run with them, but the Bentleys and the Ellises were both part of the small clan of bear shifters in town.

He still hadn’t thought of anything by the time Michaela was done shopping, but at least he could give her a smile as she came up to him. “You find everything okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” She unloaded her basket on the counter. Frozen food, some fruit, some canned stuff. He was seized with a desire to cook her a good home-cooked meal. “I didn’t know you worked here,” she said.

Aha! An opening! He grinned. “It’s my first day. As a cashier.”

There was the smile he was looking for, the same one she’d given him when they’d met, before he’d clammed up and wrecked it. It was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “Don’t make fun of me, that’s not nice.”

“No, it really is!” He nodded at Janine, trying to pay attention to what he was doing at the register and flirt at the same time. “Ask her, she’s training me.”

“You’re his first customer,” Janine confirmed. “So if he gets outta line, you tell me.”

“So far so good,” Michaela said, still smiling.

Caleb tried to think of something else to say. The mirror! Despite his doubts, he’d bought a cheap wall mirror like she’d suggested. “Thank you for the mirror exercises,” he said. “I’ve been doing them.” Behind him, Janine was bagging up Michaela’s order. If he didn’t act fast, she’d be gone again.

“Are they helping?” Michaela was looking at him, actually looking at him, and he almost forgot to charge her for her oranges. Her eyes were a soft, luminous green, like the pine trees that covered the mountains around town.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I think they are. Sounded crazy at the time.”

“The brain is a strange place,” she said. She stood looking at him expectantly. What was she waiting for? Janine nudged him again. Oh! The total! “That comes to thirty-five twenty.”

She paid, and now she was picking up her bags. She was about to leave, and he didn’t think he could stand it. When she walked out the door, something snapped in him. “I’ll be right back,” he said. He tugged off the green apron that had his name tag and the Smithson’s name on it and rushed out the door. “Michaela!”

She’d reached her car, and turned around, startled. “Did I forget something?”

“No, I did.” Both feet were on fire and he fought to keep from limping as he chased after her. “Listen, I— I got the feeling I made kind of a bad first impression. Will you let me take you to dinner sometime?” Before she could answer, he rushed on, “If you don’t want to or if it’s against the rules or anything, that’s fine.”

“Dinner? Me?” She looked adorably confused and he wanted to kiss the expression right off her face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” There was another of those sunny smiles, and it warmed him to the core. She tore off a piece of grocery sack and got a pen from her purse. “Here’s my number. Call me?”

He took the scrap and tucked it into his pocket. “I will.”

The day of her date with Caleb, Michaela spent the whole day telling herself she should cancel. He’d asked if it was against the rules. She should have said yes. It wasn’t
exactly
; she’d only been his physical therapist that one time, and she could just tell Dottie she couldn’t work with him again, but it felt like a gray area, and the last thing Michaela needed right now were more gray areas. “Don’t you
dare
, Michaela Jane Baker,” Brenda said when she’d mentioned it. “Don’t make me come out there. The hottest man in the county asks you out,
you say yes
.”

If she canceled now, Brenda would never let her hear the end of it. And truthfully, Michaela didn’t want to cancel. When she realized that Caleb had chased her into the parking lot to ask her out, she felt like she’d walked onto a movie set. She didn’t think that sort of thing ever happened in real life. It didn’t seem possible that he could be so sweet. And good-hearted too, she’d bet. Most men out here would’ve turned their nose up at working a cash register. She admired the hell out of him for his determination.

That’s not all you’re admiring
, a wicked part of her brain piped up. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t stop noticing the way his jeans had cradled his butt as he was walking away. Or that she couldn’t stop thinking of the possibility that the night might end with him kissing her, taking her in his arms. Maybe more. Michaela didn’t usually think of herself as someone who had sex on the first date, but she was willing to make an exception if he was.

“You all right?” Dottie’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She was standing in the office door looking at Michaela oddly. “Your face is all flushed. I hope you’re not coming down with something.”

Michaela bit her inner cheek to keep from laughing. “I’m fine, I promise. Whatcha need?”

“I just wanted to say, good job this week. Everybody’s been raving about you so far.”

“Everybody?” Granted, she was pretty sure by now that Caleb hadn’t been offended by her on her first day, but she’d had a couple of clients who didn’t seem too thrilled with her.

“Well,” Dottie amended with a grin, “most everybody. I’ve got no complaints.”

Michaela felt warm all over again, this time for a difference reason. “Thanks, Dottie. I appreciate that.” A little knot of stress started to dissolve in her belly, one she’d gotten so used to she’d forgotten it was there. Maybe she’d do okay here after all.

“I wanna know who this girl is,” Dalton drawled, leaning in the bathroom doorway while Caleb shaved. “I haven’t seen you this jumpy since we were in high school.”

“She’s not your type, Dalt, so don’t even think it.” Caleb tilted his chin to get a good angle on the stubble there.

“What type, I don’t have a type.”

Caleb snorted. “Bottle-blond and brassy, that’s your dream date.”

“I like a woman with a little fire to her,” Dalton said. “So who’s this girl, she a quiet librarian type or somethin’?”

“No.” Caleb finished up and rinsed his face in the sink. “Maybe a little. There’s something about her, she’s got me all twisted up.”

“She must have, I saw you made one of Momma’s chess pies. And I saw that little picnic basket you put together,” Dalton teased. “Gonna woo her with your cooking?”

“Might as well, ain’t got nothing else to offer a woman,” Caleb deadpanned.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, hot shot.” Dalton tossed him a clean towel from the closet in the hall. “Seriously now: you okay?”

Caleb took advantage of the towel to dry off his face and hide while he collected his thoughts. “I think maybe my bear isn’t gone.”

“I’ve been tellin’ you it wasn’t. What made you change your mind?” He moved aside to let Caleb out of the bathroom.

“I’ve felt him. Twice now, in the past week.” He didn’t mention it was when he was with Michaela. That made it sound too much like he was using her, or that he didn’t have any other reason to want to spend time with her.

Dalton whooped. “See, it just took some time. Next time I go hunting, you’re comin’ with me, little brother.”

Caleb threw the damp towel at him. “Don’t bet on it.” That was too much. Feeling the bear spirit inside of him, that was okay. That felt good. Thinking about trying to shift into that bear made his mouth go dry. How the hell would that even work? He was pretty sure his prosthetic foot wouldn’t shift with him, and how could he do anything as a three-legged bear? Caleb wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk, much less run or hunt.

“I don’t know, something’s gotten into you. You’re going out with an actual real live girl, you’re waking up your bear again— you must like that new job.” The pride in Dalton’s voice was there, hidden under the teasing.

“Yeah, who knew it was my life’s ambition to ring up Joanie Hargrave’s tater tots.” Caleb stuck his tongue out.

“As long as you’re ringing up somebody’s tater tots.” Dalton waggled his eyebrows and made it sound dirty. “Maybe you’ll do some ringing up tonight.”

“Momma’d whip you if she heard you talking like that.” Caleb rooted through his closet, looking for the right pair of pants. “Besides, Michaela’s a nice girl. I don’t think she thinks like that.” He knew that was probably true, but it didn’t stop him from feeling just a little bit disappointed. Maybe if things went well enough, he’d get a good night kiss. His heart started pounding just at the thought of her sweet mouth against his.

“Well, if she’s as nice as all that, you better bring her around to supper sometime.”

“Now you’re definitely getting ahead of things.” Caleb finally found the clothes he was looking for. “Now get out of here so I can get dressed.”

Chapter Four

Michaela didn’t see any way to avoid Miss Harvelle when Caleb came to pick her up. When he arrived, he came to the door like a gentleman, and she let him in while she grabbed her shoes and purse. They were both dressed pretty casual— he’d promised her a picnic— but she was pretty sure she’d never seen jeans and a polo shirt look so good before. She wished she had something sharper than her favorite cardigan and jeans, but the only other option was a dress, and it was starting to get chilly at night.

Sure enough, when Caleb opened the door to her apartment to lead them out, there was Miss Harvelle, watering the flowers Michaela had seen her water not two hours earlier. Michaela mentally shook her head ruefully. “Evenin’, Miss Harvelle.”

“Hey Michaela, don’t you look nice. Who’s your friend?” She eyed Caleb up and down.

He stepped up and offered Miss Harvelle his hand. “Caleb Bentley, ma’am. Michaela and I were just going out for some supper.”

“Bentley . . .” Miss Harvelle mused. “Oh, I know. Are you one of the Bentleys that lives up on Route 5?”

“Yes ma’am, that’s us.”

“Y’all have had a real rough time lately. You the one that—”

“Yes ma’am.”

Michaela glanced over at him, surprised he’d interrupt her, as polite as he’d been. Miss Harvelle was unfazed. “Well. I’m glad you’re home safe. Y’all have a good time, okay?”

With that, they were released, and Caleb escorted her to his truck. It wasn’t especially new or fancy, but it was meticulously clean and well-cared for, and Michaela’s hand tingled where he’d given her an assist up into the passenger seat. Between them on a seat was a large, old-fashioned picnic basket, and something in it smelled amazing. Her mouth started watering.

“You weren’t kidding about a picnic,” she said, as he got behind the wheel.

“Sure wasn’t. That okay?” He glanced over.

“It’s great.” She gave him a smile. “The sooner the better, cause whatever’s in there smells too good to wait for.”

He looked especially pleased at that and started the truck. “I know a good spot up in the hills, if you want. Might get chilly later, but I’ve got some blankets.”

She’d expected they’d go to the little city park by the courthouse. The thought of going somewhere a little more secluded made her heart race. “That sounds fine. You know the town, I don’t yet.”

“I’ll have to show you around sometime.” That smile would be the death of her.

As they drove, he pointed out various landmarks and gave her a little bit of town history. She tried not to get distracted by the way his hands practically dwarfed the steering wheel, or the way the muscles in his arms moved and bulged. “Right over there was where there was a shootout in the 1920s,” he was saying, pointing to the town square. “There was a miner’s strike going on and the company sent in hired thugs to make sure the miners didn’t organize. My granddad was there, but I think he was just a kid at the time.”

Michaela knew a little bit about how bloody the history of the coal industry was. “Your family work in the mines?”

He laughed, a rich, warm sound. “Not much else to do, otherwise. My daddy did, and my brother Dalton works there now. I probably would’ve, but...” He trailed off and shrugged. That explained the grocery store. She could just imagine how infuriating it must be for him.

“Your dad retired?” They were leaving the town proper and heading further out into the country, driving up a slow incline.

“He was, black lung got him about five years ago.” He said it without much emotion, just stating a dry fact.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s just me and Dalt now. I’m staying with him in our folks’ old house until I get settled.” So he’d lost his mom too. She wondered if that’s what Miss Harvelle had meant about them having a hard year. “What about you? I don’t think I hardly know anything about you yet. Though I bet if I asked, Miss Harvelle would give me an earful,” he laughed.

“Oh, she would.” Michaela laughed with him. “My mom and dad live over in Wheeling. After I finished school I started working in Louisville— that much you knew already.”

“How on earth did you ever hear about Salem Creek?” He pulled off the main road onto a narrow side road, too narrow for two cars to pass. The incline had gotten steeper as they headed up the mountain.

“I was looking for a job in a small town,” she said. “I saw Dottie’s listing, and the rest is history.” She toyed with the hem of her cardigan. “I’ve been here about a month. You already know how long I’ve been working,” she joked. “Most people spend all their time trying to get out of here, you know. You must be special.” He glanced over, his eyes shining with a warmth that soaked her right to the bone.

“Maybe this place is special,” she murmured.

“Speaking of special places,” he said abruptly, “we’re here.” He pulled the truck out of the tree line and into a wide clearing. At the far end, a sheer cliff face rose up from the grass. Beyond it, and over the trees, a row of mountains stretched as far as she could see. The late summer breeze was cooling for the night, and they’d be able to see the sunset.

“Wow,” Michaela said, when she could speak. “It’s beautiful.”

Caleb beamed and grabbed the picnic basket. When she reached for her door handle, he said, “Hang on,” and hurried over to get her door. He gave her a hand down from the truck, and she warmed at the attention. “Thank you.”

“All righty, ma’am, where would you like to eat, sitting in the grass, or in the back of the truck?” He gestured at the field around them. “Probably fewer bugs in the back of the truck.”

“Let’s go with that, then.”

He set the basket in the back and lowered the tailgate before fishing out a neatly folded pile of blankets from behind the passenger seat. Before she could offer to help at all, he hoisted himself into the truck bed and started spreading out the blankets, leaving her a little breathless at his agility and strength. Phantom pain or no, he was adjusting to life just fine, from the looks of it. Once he had a nice little nest set up, he hopped back down, and only then did she see him favor his bad leg at all. He covered so fast she might have missed it.

He gave her a mock bow and a smile. “Your table is ready, miss.” She started to climb up in the truck, trying not to be too awkward. “Allow me,” he said, and she nodded, expecting him to offer her a hand the way he did before. He came up behind her, and before she could protest that she was too heavy, he put his strong hands around her waist and lifted her high enough that she could get her feet beneath her in the truck bed. When he let her go, she had to keep from whining in protest.

Caleb followed with another jump and they settled in the front, their backs to the cab. The view was as breathtaking as Caleb’s easy strength. “You sure know how to choose a good picnic spot,” she said.

“Let’s hope as I did as good with the picnic.” He pulled the basket open and started to pull out paper plates and plastic utensils. The aroma she’d first noticed inside the pickup got even stronger. “I should have asked,” he said, “I hope you like home cooking.”

“Do I look like I don’t?” She grinned at him.

“You look like the kind of woman I’d love to cook for.” He met her eyes and a shiver passed through her. “So I did.” He started pulling out a seemingly endless supply of goodies. Cold fried chicken, homemade coleslaw, a bowl full of fresh sliced ripe tomatoes and cucumbers, and lord help her, cornbread wrapped in foil so it was still warm. A cooler inside the basket held a couple of sodas and a couple of beers.

“You cooked all this? Yourself?” Michaela tried to imagine him looming over a stove in a frilly apron and had to fight off the giggles.

He shrugged modestly. “Told you, it’s just me and Dalton, and ain’t no way I’m letting him get near a stove.”

They filled their plates and settled back to eat. Michaela’s first bite of the fried chicken had her closing her eyes in bliss. Light and crispy, just enough pepper. It was one of the best things she’d eaten in ages. She might have groaned out loud, cause she opened her eyes and saw Caleb watching her. “You’re telling me the truth? You cooked this?”

“I would never lie about fried chicken,” he said, solemnly crossing his heart.

“You are a wonder, Caleb Bentley.” She shook her head and sampled the rest. The cole slaw wasn’t what she expected, there was no vinegary bite to it, just a rich, savory crunch. And the cornbread— well, it was still warm and he’d brought the butter. If Michaela didn’t watch out, she was going to stuff herself silly.

“Everything okay?” he asked, after they’d been quietly eating.

“It’s delicious. All of it. I can’t decide if the cornbread or the chicken is my favorite.”

“I have to tell you something,” he said. The uncertainty on his face tugged at her heartstrings and he looked at her from lowered eyes. “I... cheat a little with my cornbread. It’s from a mix.”

Michaela blinked at him, then started laughing. “Oh my lord, I thought you were about to confess to one of the seven deadly sins!”

“I don’t know what kind of cornbread y’all eat in Louisville, but around here, cornbread from a mix
is
one of the seven deadly sins.” He was trying to keep a straight face but failing, and it was adorable.

“Then I’m a sinner, because I love it.” Their eyes met again, and she felt the shift between them, tugging them together. She was the first to look away, but not before she saw his cheeks turn pink.

“Well, I hope you saved room for something else sinful,” he said, and her first thought was not of dessert at all. It turned out that was exactly what he meant, though—he brought out two gargantuan slices of pie. Michaela gasped. “Is that chess pie? I haven’t had that in years.”

“It is, my momma’s recipe.” He handed her a plate and a clean fork.

“There’s no way I can eat all that.” Even as she said it though, the first bite made her reconsider. Sweet and rich and smooth on her tongue, it was every bit as good as she remembered from her childhood. “It’s not fair that you can bake too.”

He grinned, and it made her smile to see the way his chest puffed a little with pride. If he’d keep smiling at her like that, she’d eat the whole slice. Not that it was going to be that much of a hardship. He polished his off in record time, and watched her. She ducked her head, self-conscious of being a big girl eating a big slice of pie. “What?” she said.

“I just like a girl who eats,” he said. “Especially if she likes my cooking.”

“Any girl who didn’t would be a fool.” As much as she wanted to finish it, the richness got to be too much. “I can’t eat another bite. You want it?” He took the remaining sliver and made it disappear. They cleared away the remains of the picnic and settled back against the truck cab, full and content, looking out over the slowly darkening sky.

“Michaela, I owe you an apology for the other day.”

Michaela looked over at him, startled. “You owe
me
an apology? What for?”

When he reached down and took her hand, it felt completely natural. She felt like she could curl up and bask in the warm glow all night. “I was a jerk when we met. I— I guess I wasn’t expecting to work with a pretty girl, and it was like all my good manners and small talk just dried up and blew away.”

She stared at him, feeling her jaw drop, then she laughed, too much for someone with such a full belly.
He called me pretty, though
.

Caleb’s face fell, and he started to pull his hand away. Michaela held on and tried to get control of herself. “No, no I’m not laughing at you,” she said. “I’m sorry. I was thinking I needed to apologize to you.” She bit her lower lip before rushing on. “I saw you and I think I lost all my good manners too. You’re so—” While “hot” was definitely the word that came to mind, that was too forward. “So impressive. I thought I made you uncomfortable staring at you.”

By now they were turned to face one another. One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Michaela, I’m a huge guy with one leg, plus everybody in town wants to come tell me how sorry they are that I’m one-legged and how proud they are to know me— even though I’m the same dumbass country boy who used to make them all shake their heads when I was running wild in high school. They act like I’m not.” His shoulders lifted and fell. “I’m kinda used to getting stared at.”

Oh no, she
had
made him uncomfortable, but maybe not the way she thought. He really didn’t get it. A surge of bravery made her lift her free hand and rest it on his cheek. His eyes widened as he looked down at her. “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I’m a physical therapist, Caleb. I’ve seen every type of body you can think of, some with missing parts, some with new parts, big, small, old, young— it’s all just part of who that individual person is. I wasn’t staring at you because you’re missing a leg. I was staring at you because you’re one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen, and well— in my line of work there are rules about that sort of thing.”