Bear Cop: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (2 page)

“Most tourists don't take my cupcakes,” she said and laughed, her eyes flashing at him. “Really, I'm not much of a hiker, but shouldn't you rather take an energy bar, or some jerky? That's what they usually buy at the store.”

“Maybe, but I like sweet things,” he murmured with another glance at her.

Was he flirting now? Oh God, he was definitely flirting now, and he'd made her flush again. He'd never felt anything like this. How did you flirt with someone who was... special? He knew no other word for it. He only knew that he didn't want to scare her, but she was so beautiful, and he couldn't stop staring at those rosy cheeks, the way her hair rested against her neck, and the generous curves hidden beneath her shirt...

Concentrate on the road,
he told himself sternly, while his bear made a sound that was as close to laughter as a bear could get.

The bridge before them was still open; he'd made sure to ask Jim for the best routes around the mountain before he drove to the bakery. Nothing like the experience of a retired cop.

The rain of the past weeks had made the river swell; it looked dangerous as it rushed past them, and Chris drove very carefully.

The bridge was just wide enough for one car. This road wasn't used much, Jim had said, because it led straight through the foothills of the mountains, meandering back and forth. Mostly it was used by the tourists who rented one of the cabins in the wood. But it was still passable, and right now it seemed the best way to get them to where the bakery's driver had been pushed off the road by a truck.

“I haven't come out this way in forever.” Eve sounded nervous.

Chris wished he'd dare to rest his hand on her knee in reassurance. Maybe he could take her hand. Maybe that would be all right. She just seemed so familiar, and he'd felt star-struck since he'd first seen her. Her company made the restless bear in him feel at ease, and Chris couldn't stop thinking about how gorgeous she looked with her sexy curves and her warm smiles and that enthusiasm for her bakery.

He was just about to suggest a hike up one of the hills next weekend, perhaps with a few of her cupcakes to enjoy together with the view, when the roar of the river suddenly rose in volume, and the car began to drift as something made a terrible sound. It was the terrifying noise of metal bending, and his hands clenched around the steering wheel as Eve cried out in fear, her hand clutching at his shoulder while the bear inside him roared with the sudden, overwhelming need to protect his mate.

***

Eve was asleep. She knew she was asleep because she was dreaming, and she knew she was dreaming because her body refused to obey her—and because there was currently a giant bear roaring somewhere outside the car.

I really need to wake up
, she told herself, but she couldn’t move. Everything hurt, and her head throbbed while the bear outside roared and roared. It sounded so furious. Did it want to eat her? This was a new sort of stress dream. She dreamed sometimes of her father escaping from prison to come to Linden Creek, accusing her in front of what little friends she had found—the Herberts, Sidney who ran the town’s small library, all the familiar customers who stopped by at least once per week for her pies and her cupcakes. But this was new.

Why the hell is there a bear
, she thought again, nearly hysterical.
Why am I not dreaming of Jim coming to lock me up in a cell? Or no, there’s a new cop now. Chris, Chris, I should be having stress dreams about Chris…

Again the bear roared, so furious that it nearly sounded human—almost as if it was terrified. But that was wrong; a bear who wanted to kill her in her car wouldn’t be terrified.

The car’s door gave way with a scream of tortured metal, and she gasped, wanting to flinch away, but she still couldn’t move. Something held her in place. The seatbelt. The seatbelt was holding her captive, and the bear would get her any moment now! She tried to feel for the buckle, but she still couldn’t move. At least the bear had stopped roaring. But now the car was moving a little. Was it sliding backwards? Had her subconscious decided that a falling dream would be better than a dream about being eaten by a bear?

I really, really need to wake up
, she thought with rising panic as the car kept shifting. Suddenly she remembered the bridge, and the way the river had roared beneath it. Was it a dream? Was it really just a dream? Hadn’t she clutched at Chris’ shoulder a moment ago when the bridge seemed to break apart beneath them?

“Oh God,” she moaned. The sound of her own voice seemed to transport her back to reality.

It took effort to hold her eyes open. She blinked several times, until her vision was no longer so blurry. Her head ached, and so did her shoulder and neck. The seatbelt cut into her skin. It was all that held her in place now as she hung in her seat, the car tilted forward at a dangerous angle. She blinked again—then froze when through the burst windshield, she saw splintered planks below her. Beneath those remains of the bridge, the river was roaring hungrily for her.

It was real. It was no dream, it was all real, and she was going to die here…

“Eve!”

With effort, she craned her head against the bite of the seatbelt, and then nearly wept. There stood Chris. Chris had somehow made it out of the car, and had come for her. Then Chris’ hands closed around her arm, and her heart clenched fearfully when the car shifted again.

“Get me out of here!” she pleaded, her hands once more fumbling along the seatbelt, searching, searching—and at last, there it was. She nearly wept with relief when her trembling fingers encountered the buckle, and she pressed down with all her might until with a
click
, she was released. Chris’ arms were there to hold her, and she gasped again when the car seemed to slide forward another inch.

“Hold on to me!” Chris called against the roar of the river below. “Just hold on! Whatever you do, don’t let go! Trust me!”

Tears were running down her face as the car tilted forward even more, but even so she managed to wrap both of her arms around Chris’ shoulders, and then Chris pulled, and the car shifted again. She was half-way out the door now—where had the door gone? The bear had been just a dream, it had to be! Still, something seemed to have torn off the door and tossed it away as though it was just a toy.

It must have happened while the bridge collapsed, she told herself while her heart raced with panic. She was almost there now. Almost—

“Don’t let go!” Chris gasped again.

Eve cried out and gathered what strength remained to her to throw herself forward, upward—and with a horrifying screech, the car finally broke loose from whatever had held it suspended, and toppled down into where the torrent below was roaring with anger.

Chris’ arms were tight around her. The part of the bridge they were now standing on trembled—but it did not give. She buried her face against Chris’ chest, terrified at how closely they had escaped death, and listened to the beating of his heart. The sound was reassuring. As though she had nothing to fear when he was close. As though everything would be all right, as long as he was near to protect her.

“Come. Hold on to me,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek for a moment.

Chris' breathing was labored. When he looked up, she saw that there was a cut at his brow.

“We need to get off this bridge,” he told her. “This pillar seems stable, but—”

She nodded, unable to speak. The wind was tearing at her hair, and her entire body felt bruised, as though she had taken a beating. Adrenaline flooded her and made her heart thud forcefully against her ribcage, but Chris was staring at her from those sweet brown eyes that had turned nearly black now with fear. Fear for
her
, she realized, and something in her shifted when she thought of just what he had done.

He’d risked his own life to save her. He’d leaned into a car that was about to fall into a river to pull her out of it. Who did that sort of thing? Guys in movies did. Guys in novels. But she had never known anyone who would risk his life for her.

She smiled against Chris’ chest when she thought of her ex, Jeremy, who’d probably manage this level of heroic only to save his precious car, and would have let her drown instead.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of him: sweat and fear and testosterone, but beneath all of that, a warmth that promised comfort.

Fiery need pooled inside her again as she imagined what it would feel like to slip her hands up beneath that shirt to feel the heat of his skin, the ridges of his pronounced muscles. Or even better, to slide her hand downward, into his pants, to close her fingers about the shaft that she thought she could feel hard and heavy against her thigh. She wasn’t imagining that, was she?

Chris shifted, his arms tightening around her, and for a moment she could feel him: definitely hard, and—
wow
!—okay, so he was definitely big. But then, his entire body was impressive. Her mouth was suddenly dry with want as she imagined what he’d look like with his shirt stripped off, all hard, gleaming muscles and arms strong enough to pull her out of a car suspended over a broken bridge. The heat inside her bloomed, a warm throb of need low in her belly. She’d feel embarrassed, but then she could feel that he was just as aroused—beautifully hard, and it drove her crazy.

When was the last time a man had wanted her that much? No-one had since Jeremy, and Jeremy had been little better than a child, caring more about his stupid pick-up truck than he’d cared about her. She’d always felt his disappointment that she didn’t look like the photoshopped women on his calendars. But Chris—he looked at her as though she was the only thing that mattered. Still, what would happen once he knew?

Don't forget that he's a cop,
she told herself, even though her body was more than happy to ignore that fact for now as her eyes lingered on his chest.

Maybe it was just endorphins—chemicals her brain released after a fright, to make her feel good again. She’d read that this sort of thing could happen after you’d escaped danger. But Chris kept her in his arms as they carefully made their way from the last standing pillar of the bridge to the other side of the swollen river that had swept both bridge and car away. He didn’t let go, even when they reached firm ground. If this was a movie, Eve thought, she’d tilt up her head and they’d kiss now, with the sun setting behind them. Instead, the wind was cold and made her shiver, and there was a sound in the woods before them that sounded a little like a large cat on the loose.

“I can’t believe you did that for me,” she said.

When she looked up, his eyes were still dark, fixed on her with such worry and obvious relief that she wanted to press closer to reassure him that they were all right, that they had made it.

“I can’t believe how brave you were!” Chris raised a hand to her cheek again and brushed back a strand of hair. It made Eve shiver, and she had to fight to resist the temptation to lean into the touch. “When that car shifted again—I thought I had lost you. But you believed me. You didn’t let go. If you hadn’t trusted me, I wouldn’t have managed to get you out in time.”

Eve shook her head. “You could have died too! I can’t believe you came back to save me!” She could hear the tears in her voice, but bit them back.

Not now,
she told herself. She could break down soon—but first they needed to get away from the river and find some shelter. And she really needed to get a hold of herself. Here she was, all alone in the wilderness with a
cop
—this was all of her nightmares come true!

Blood was still trickling from the cut at Chris’ temple. She swallowed down the terror, and when she spoke again, she was relieved that her voice sounded firm. “You’re bleeding. The car’s gone, but maybe we can find a place to sit down.”

“And you? Are you hurt?” Chris’ voice was dark and soft, with just the barest hint of a growl behind it. It made her knees feel weak again, and this time it had nothing to do with nearly falling to her death only moments ago.

“I don’t think I’m hurt.” She raised a hand to her neck that still ached, but she couldn’t feel a wound, only abrasions from where the seatbelt must have bitten into the skin.

“It’s bruised,” Chris said as he drew back a little to peer at her neck with a frown. “But it doesn’t bleed. And you can use your arm; that’s good.”

“You can give me a massage when this is all over.” Eve nearly blushed at her own suggestion. She was definitely flirting with him now. She usually wasn’t so forward—but something about him made her want to take a risk, for the first time in so long. And she had felt that he was interested. Umm. Could
still
feel that he was interested.

She had to bite back a sudden laugh as he shifted against her, his length hot against her thigh again. Then his hand slid into her hair and warmth pooled in her belly as she looked into his eyes. They were dark, but not from fear—
arousal
, she thought and pressed herself daringly against him.

“I’d love to give you a massage,” Chris said, his voice low and intimate, the delightful rumble more pronounced. His thumb slid along her cheek in a caress that made her bite her lip to hold back the sigh of need that wanted to break free, and then he drew her into a kiss.