Bloodrunner Bear (Harper's Mountains Book 2) (5 page)

Falling for a dangerous man like him was terrifying for a safe person like her.

Deep inside of Aaron, the snarl of his grizzly was constant. A man had fallen asleep at the wheel and crashed into a ditch. The civilian who had made the call to 911 had pulled him and the man’s six-year-old niece from the old SUV before it went up in flames. The man didn’t make it. What kind of idiot didn’t wear a seatbelt? Aaron was pissed. The entire thing could’ve been avoided if he wasn’t toting his niece around late at night and had strapped the damn belt over his lap. It took one second to do and could’ve saved his life. It could’ve saved that little girl from going through all of this. She would be scarred inside for the rest of her life because she was the survivor. Watching her uncle die would be a part of her story.

Aaron had held the girl, Annie, while Aric worked to save her uncle with a couple of paramedics. Annie had cried against Aaron’s shoulder until her mom drove up, frantic and sobbing. And all the while, the fire engulfed the car in the background while Bryant and Mark worked to put it out.

He was supposed to save people.

Aaron shook his head hard at the memory of Aric’s grim expression as he radioed in to request permission to call time of death on the scene.

The girl would have some bruising from her five-point harness car seat but would be fine physically. At least her uncle had strapped her in, or tonight could’ve gone much worse. And thank God for the man who happened to pass the wreck and pulled her out before the fire caught in the engine. The what-if’s piled up too high, and Aaron buried his face in his hands and squeezed his eyes closed. These shifts were the worst, when someone didn’t make it. These were the ones where Bear felt out of control.

He grunted at the pain of his animal trying to claw his way out of Aaron’s skin. He had to get out of the station before Chief saw him lose it. At least Aric wasn’t around. He only worked night hours, on account of being undead and all. He would’ve slit his throat from behind if Aaron ever offered him a vulnerable position like this with the back of his neck exposed. By now, Aric was long asleep in whatever dark crevice he lived in.

Aaron glared at the sunrise through the back window behind him and sighed. Stalling wasn’t going to help anything. His animal would be a monster all day until he could force last night from his mind.

Throwing the strap of his duffel bag over his shoulder, Aaron smoothed the bedding from where he’d sat and made his way out of the station with nothing more than a nod of the head for the guys on the new shift.

Outside, he revved the engine of his Harley and blasted down Main Street. He shouldn’t stop at Alana’s. He’d told her he would, but he wasn’t safe to be around right now. He wasn’t stable, and everything in him balked at the idea of letting Alana see him teetering on the edge like this. She would see how messed up he was and pull away.

Things had gotten about ten times more complicated between him and Alana after their almost-kiss last night. He’d been serious when he’d told her he wasn’t looking for a mate. She was human and fragile, and he saw loss of life on a weekly basis. He’d also seen what happened when a shifter lost a mate. Most of them never recovered. Hell, most of them had to be put down when the insanity took their animals. If he was this riled up over the lost life of a stranger, he would be a brute about Alana being safe. He would never want her to drive, turn on the stove, swim, or take any risk that could somehow result in her getting hurt. And what kind of life was that for her? No life at all. She was strong and independent and deserved a man who wouldn’t stifle her. Aaron’s protective instincts weren’t an excuse to drag her down with him.

But…

He couldn’t just pass her coffee shop and break his word.

At the last second, Aaron pulled into the small parking lot, shoved the kickstand down, and cut the engine. She was inside serving coffee to a family of four, her face transforming into that beautiful crooked smile. She said something and laughed, and he couldn’t just barge in there and ruin her day with his moody bear.

He growled and scratched his head in irritation. He couldn’t figure out how his dad and uncles had done it. They’d been firefighters for years, and he’d never seen a single crack in their hard exteriors. They just managed.

He crossed his arms over his chest and heaved a frozen breath into the morning air. The same thought that had plagued him since he was a boy struggling to control the brute bear cub in his middle flashed through his mind again. Maybe he was broken.

Alana looked up, her dark skin practically glowing in the muted light from the sunrise behind him. Today, she’d curled her hair and left it down except for a few pieces she’d pinned back from her face. She was about seven levels out of his league, and yet here she was, catching his eye, a slow, greeting smile spreading across her lips.

Damn, he was in trouble with this one. He should leave. He should give her a shot at happiness with someone normal.

It was too late for escape when Alana pushed open the door to her shop, steaming coffee pot in her hand and a questioning quirk to her dark, delicate eyebrows. “I thought for a minute you were standing me up.”

Aaron ran his hand along the back of his head and ducked his gaze. The thought had crossed his mind. “I’m maybe not the best company right now. Can we meet up when I’m more…?”

“More what?”

“In control.” Nope, he wasn’t showing his eyes right now. They were likely damn near gold, the color that usually terrified small children and protective mothers. And he couldn’t stomach the idea of scaring Alana.

“Hey,” she murmured, approaching slowly.

Aaron winced and angled his face away from her. “Don’t.”

He thought she would say something, pop off maybe, but she didn’t. Instead, she slid her hand around his waist and rested her cheek against him. Chest heaving, Aaron closed his eyes and prayed for control as he settled his open palm onto the lower curve of her back.

He owed her some sort of explanation, but hell if he knew how to explain Bear to a human. “Someone died. A man.”

“Last night?”

He jerked his chin once.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head slowly as she ran her nails lightly up and down his spine.

“Okay, we won’t talk about it then. But let me feed you before you go back to Nantahala.”

He leaned back and frowned down at her. “How do you know I live there?”

Ignoring his question, she said low, “I like your eyes this color.” As she searched his gaze, she didn’t look or smell terrified. She looked awed.

And little by little Bear settled. Baffled by his animal’s reaction, Aaron explained, “They get like this after bad shifts at the station.”

“Understandable.”

It was?

Alana tugged his hand and led him into the coffee shop. The patrons were staring, but she clipped out, “Get on back to eatin’,” and her customers did just that.

There were three full tables on one side, so Aaron sat in a booth on the far wall to make the humans more comfortable. Even if they didn’t have the instincts he did, they could tell when a predator shifter was worked up. He’d learned that over the years. It was in their subtle behaviors when he got too close to a Change in public. Even if they didn’t realize they were afraid, they would shift their weight away from him, or cross to the other side of the street with confused frowns on their faces.

But then there was Alana. He could feel the heaviness of his own dominance thickening the air around him, but she’d approached him slow, like she knew what he needed, and hugged him. Settled him.

He inhaled deeply as he watched Alana pile pastries onto a plate and pour a cup of fragrant coffee, and on the exhale, he felt lighter, relieved almost. The scent of vanilla was strong and relaxing in here. Maybe that’s why she smelled like that, from baking.

Under her breath, she hummed softly as she bustled over to him. Today she was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans that clung to her curves, a pink button-down blouse and matching apron with the logo for the coffee shop.

“I was thinking about not coming,” he admitted as she set down the plate of frosted strawberry pastries and the mug of hot coffee. Keeping anything from her felt wrong.

“I could tell.”

She didn’t sound mad, though. When she made to move off again, Aaron lost his damned mind and reached out, grabbed her hand, pulled her back slowly to him. Her reaction was perfect. An easy giggle, and then she ran her nails through his hair, smoothing it back from where it had fallen in his face. She cupped his cheek, rasped her touch down his unshaven jaw, and prettily arched her eyebrows. Her full lips turned up in the corners. Alana wielded magic. What else could explain just a touch of her hand offering him such salvation from the bad night he’d had?

Aaron angled his head and rubbed his cheek against her hand in an affection only shifters would understand the importance of. As Alana slipped away and sauntered off to help a customer who’d just come in, she swished her sexy hips with each step, as if she knew he was watching her leave.

Done. Aaron was done for. Heaving a breath, he relaxed back against the bench seat and shook his head in disbelief. If Alana even knew how much Bear had settled under her touch, or how he was slowly devoting himself to her, she would run away and never look back.

She didn’t seem like a woman to play games, but Alana sure knew how to make him want to chase her.

Why was she so nervous? Alana had never had the shakes like this in all her life. Talking to people had never scared her, but just the thought of refilling Aaron’s coffee sent a tremble of anticipation up her spine and made her hands shake even harder. Her heart felt like it was going to gallop right out of her chest cavity. And he was a shifter! He would hear her pounding pulse.

She waved goodbye to the last table of customers and poured herself a mug of coffee, then dumped cream and sugar into it until she could stand the taste. It was ironic that she ran a coffee shop but didn’t like the flavor of coffee.

Aaron had finished his breakfast and sat with his elbows resting on the table, hands cupped around his mug, staring out the open blinds to the parking lot with a faraway look in his eyes.

“A penny for your thoughts,” she said as she sat across from him.

He huffed a laugh and eased back. “They aren’t worth that much, I’m afraid. What happened with Doucheface?”

Alana sipped her steaming cup. “Nothing to tell, really. He wasn’t my type.”

“Didn’t meet the list requirements?”

“Ha! He didn’t meet a single one.”

It was then she noticed the exhaustion in Aaron’s eyes. Oh sure, he was putting on a good show, complete with smiles and nods, but he looked thrashed. Well, he
had
been up most the night with that wreck.

“Why were you crying last night?” he asked, gaze on the half-full mug cupped in his hands.

“Because I’m a wimp. I let him get to me—”

“Why?”

She sighed out a pathetically human-sounding growl and said, “Because he mentioned my scar. He was rude about it. I’m not a fan of rude people. There is a difference in being honest and saying what’s on your mind, and saying something just to hurt a person.”

Aaron nodded slowly, and seconds of silence stretched between them. “What happened to your lip?”

Ah, there it was, and she didn’t want him feeling sorry for her, so she sipped her coffee and formed a perfect answer before she spoke again. “I was born with a cleft lip and a cleft palate. I had four reconstructive surgeries when I was a kid to fix it, and now I don’t even notice.”

Aaron stretched his legs under the table, brushing her calf with his. Then blandly, he said, “Lie.”

Crap. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want that to be the only thing you see when you look at me.”

“What do you see when you look at me?” Aaron asked, his blond brows high and daring her to fib again.

“Your eyes first, then your lips, hair, tattoos, muscles, height. In that order.”

Aaron flicked his fingers at her. “Eyes, lips, tits, soft skin, hair, vanilla scent, ass, tits again, then your scar. You telling me about it won’t change the order. Your eyes have me first regardless.”

Alana studied him carefully, but he didn’t seem to be the type to bullshit. “Lissa is my twin sister, and she was born perfect. Perfect skin tone, perfect lips, thinner, shorter. The cleft lip is genetic, from my mom, and they knew before I was even born that I had it. I looked…wrong…in the ultrasounds. So Lissa was the beautiful one, and I was the one who needed all the surgeries to look like this.” She gestured to her face. “I got bullied in school, and I didn’t want to be in photos when I was a kid. In high school, I figured out I had to use my personality to gain friends, where Lissa just naturally made them. I love her, and I know she sometimes hates being the ‘okay’ twin. She found her husband Todd and married him right out of college, and they have three beautiful girls, but I’m still here, stuck in a rut, spinning my wheels and thinking if I’d have loved myself earlier, maybe I could’ve let someone else love me, too. I get scared that I missed my window. It’s part of the reason I’m moving. Lissa lives in Asheville, and I’ve never been away from her. I never had space to see if I could be okay on my own. She’s busy with her life, but she still wants me here. It’s like that for most twins, wanting to stay close. I’m her safety blanket, but sometimes I don’t want to be. I just want to be Alana.” Heat rushed into her cheeks. Appalled at all she’d just exposed, she took a long gulp of her coffee and looked everywhere but Aaron.

Aaron leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair, loosening it to flop over to the side and into his face. “I was a firefighter in Breckenridge with my dad’s crew. Firefighting is a family thing. Sooo…I didn’t know my dad until I was five, and he didn’t know about me. Him and my mom had this one-night stand, and then I came along as a result. My bear was out of control when I was a cub, clawing my mom, and I was on the fast track to biting her and Changing her on accident. So she brought me to my dad, and the Breck Crew, for guidance. And she and my dad fell head over heels for each other so we stayed. But for some stupid reason, because I’d missed out on my first five years with my family and my cousins, I had this urge to prove that I was good enough to be in the Breck Crew. That I was good enough to be Cody Keller’s son. I have two younger sisters, and they just accepted their place in the crew right away. From day one, they were Breck Crew. I worked my way through Fire Academy and through all the paramedic classes and certifications because I thought if I was good enough at the family business, it would prove I’m good enough to be my father’s son. But the longer I do this, the more I see the differences in my bear and my family’s animals. My dad and uncles are so in control all the time. And with me…I’m fighting to look normal on the outside every minute of the job. So, you see, I know about not feeling like you belong, Alana.” He lifted his earnest, sky blue eyes to hers. “But from the outside looking in? You look like you have everything together. I understand the need to move away and start over and escape shadows, but…” He spun the mug slowly on the table and frowned.

“But what?” He’d been about to ask her to stay, right?

“I’d still like to be your friend until you leave.” He winced his lips up into a pained smile and leaned back, pulled his leg away from hers.

And there it was. The shutdown Aaron was probably famous for. Had anyone really broken through his hard exterior? He seemed like a man who kept everything close to the chest, protected. He’d given her a glimpse of his real self, a peek into the window of his soul, and then yanked the blinds closed. The shift felt like jumping into a cold swimming pool after an hour in the hot tub.

She wanted to call him out and beg him to say what he really meant, but his jaw clenched with stubbornness, and she knew she’d lost the moment. So she told him instead, “I’d like that.” Because being friends with Aaron was better than nothing at all.