Bear Essentials: Shifter Town, #4

Chapter 1

Rosewood, Tennessee.

Lily Amaretto’s breath whooshed out from between her lips as she froze.

Don’t panic!

That single thought filtered through the terrified stillness of her mind the way sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the tall green grass. Wind rustled the long blades, brushing them against the pale skin of her legs, left bare by denim cut-offs. The kind she wore only in the deep forests outside town, where no one would ever see.

The wind twisted strands of brown hair across her face, but she couldn’t move, even to brush them back.

If I move, I die.

Fear was no stranger to Lily.

Not even intense, crippling terror. They were old friends.

But back then, she’d never been afraid of dying. There were even times when death had seemed like a subject worthy of prayer.

She closed her eyes—like she’d done a thousand times before—though Lord knows it had never done her a lick of good. But this time, she prayed to live.

She prayed that the biggest damn grizzly in the world, not ten feet away, wouldn’t rip her to shreds once it turned and saw her.

She didn’t want to die.

Not when she’d just begun wanting to live.

Now she had to decide whether to try to back away silently or drop and play dead.

Too late.

The bear lifted its nose, scenting the air.

Then it turned.

Lily would have gasped, but she’d forgotten how to breathe. If the grizzly didn’t rip her apart, she may well die of asphyxiation. As its muzzle came into view she finally managed to inhale jerkily, air filling her starving lungs. Some part of her expected the grizzly to roar, then rush towards her, all claws and teeth and bloody death.

But that didn’t happen.

They just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. Arctic blue meeting shadowed whiskey.

Wrens and swallows flitted about, filling the air with birdsong. Hundreds of tiny white moths rested atop wildflowers until disturbed by the wind, rising in a swarm then gently alighting once more. Time spun invisible ribbons around Lily and the grizzly.

Then it took a single step forward.

Lily, correspondingly, tried to take a single step back. But her foot found a rock, and she lost her balance and began to fall.

The grizzly responded instantly, charging towards her. Lily whimpered and turned her face away. But that one small sound had the effect of a sawn-off shotgun.

Death stopped short.

It took Lily a moment to register this and a moment more while she gathered her courage. When she looked back, the grizzly slowly rose on its hind legs, standing over ten feet tall. Then the air shimmered, cocooning the massive bear in sparks of golden sunlight, its shape shifting until what stood before her was a man.

Naked as the day he was born.

Connor Reid considered Lily Amaretto sprawled in the grass before him and cursed his poor fucking luck. Big blue eyes looked up at him, terrified, and he didn’t have the first clue how to make it better.

How to take away that fear.

He never knew what to do or say around this woman, who tied him in such tight knots he could hardly function. He could barely form a lucid sentence around her. Not that Lily ever spoke to him, but that was for an entirely different reason. She never looked him in the eye and never let him get close, because Lily Amaretto was afraid of him.

Connor tried not to take it personally. Seemed like she was afraid of all men. Him, his brother Ryan, Sheriff Cage Delgado, and Lucas LeBray, the local mechanic. They were all aware of it. Their women had taken Lily underwing, and whenever the shifters were around her, their wildings sensed her fear. The problem was, no one else in Rosewood was crazy stuck on her and unable to do a damned thing about it. But that was good, else he would have had a hell of a time restraining his grizzly from ripping them apart.

Lily’s terror had been so intense when she saw his wilding that his own adrenaline had spiked. He hadn’t known what to do. The grizzly terrified her, but more or less than him in all his glory?

In retrospect, he should have just walked away. He’d only been able to think: She’s afraid. Fix it. And fixing it meant getting to her, and yeah . . . not the smartest thing he’d ever done.

Connor had meant to approach her slowly—like she was the wild animal—but when she fell, slow went out the window. He’d needed to reach her and make sure she was okay. Until she’d whimpered and his heart had stopped. He’d felt it stutter right there in his chest. Like the first time he saw her through the window at Sofia’s deli, sitting with Kelly, his brother’s mate, and Kelly’s friends.

Lily Amaretto was the reason Connor Reid moved to Rosewood, Tennessee.

Not that she knew it.

Not that he’d done a damn thing about it—except offer her a job. A job she was due to start tomorrow if he hadn’t scared her away.

He looked down at those mile-long legs and swallowed. Lily’s cut-offs were so short he could almost see heaven. She was a beguiling contradiction of Amazon and waif. Coltish limbs on a body that stood a smidge under six feet. He loved her height. She was only a head shorter than him. He’d hardly have to bend at all to kiss her.

Connor thought about kissing Lily a lot.

But that’s not all he thought about. There wasn’t a single damned night that he didn’t imagine those world-class legs locked around his waist. At the memory of those dreams, his cock stirred.

Ah, fuck no. Not now.

Lily’s eyes were drawn to dirty blonde hair razored short at the sides, long and messy on top, falling down his nape. They tracked down a face that was all tan angles and hard jawline.

She knew that face.

Those extraordinary whiskey eyes.

She saw them in her dreams.

Connor? As the whispered word slowly left Lily’s lips, her gaze dropped. No force on Earth could have stopped it. She drank in his strong neck, following a tendon down to his collarbone and shoulders so wide they could shelter a body from even the fiercest storm.

Resilient. Unbreakable. Connor.

She looked lower.

His chest was a work of art. Sharply defined muscles and patterns of black ink.

Looked lower still, past his abdominals.

Her heart was thudding so loudly she could hear it. Residual adrenaline from thinking she was about to die? Or something else?

Narrow hips and a defined V, arrowing downwards. Downwards . . .

Holy Mary Mother of God. Lily tore her eyes away.

Connor Reid was proportionate. Some might even say blessed. What’s more, he was . . . he was . . .

"Fuck," Connor muttered grittily. This was the reason he hadn’t shifted the instant he’d seen her. He refused to stand bare-ass naked in the woods, trying to cover his dick. Any other woman and he’d be able to control it.

But not this one.

All she’d had to do was whisper his name and he wanted to kneel at her feet. And the way her eyes trailed down him, he’d swear it was sexual if he didn’t know better.

But he did.

He knew it was entirely one-sided. That, to Lily Amaretto, he may as well be the devil.

Chapter 2

Lily was intensely aware that she was alone in the woods with a naked man.

The biggest naked man she’d ever seen.

The biggest man she’d ever seen, naked or not.

Connor Reid was lethal. A person would have to be blind not to see it. And she wasn’t talking about his physical endowments. No, Connor wore strength like it was bespoke.

A man like that could crush her without even trying. She’d heard from Kelly that he used to be in the military.

It fit.

The honed body. The aura of tamped danger. And Lily avoided danger at all costs. At least she used to, before she agreed to work for him.

She still didn’t quite understand how that happened. One minute, Conner’s brother Ryan—whom everyone called Bear—was asking Lily and Seren if they wanted to waitress at his bar. The next minute, Connor’s gruff voice cut across his brother and offered Lily a job. He was opening a new branch of Reid Construction in Rosewood and needed someone to work in the office, he’d said. Two job prospects in the space of as many minutes was a lot for a girl who never even graduated from high school.

Lily had been so startled that she’d forgotten she wasn’t comfortable looking men in the eyes and had peeped up at him through her bangs. Unsure of what to make of the offer, she’d looked at Seren, who, typically, just shrugged.

It had been on the tip of Lily’s tongue to refuse. But some remnant of spirit had begged her to wait. Rosewood was a fresh start for them. A chance to escape the city that had been slicing away their souls. It was a last-ditch effort on Seren’s part to save Lily, Lily suspected, something Seren had been doing from the day they met. Otherwise, Lily doubted her best friend would have come to Rosewood, even if it meant saving herself.

But they had.

Lily had come to this town.

She had survived.

And she desperately wanted to find those pieces that had been cut away. To try to rebuild them or reassemble them or just stick them back together any which way she could.

So she said yes to Connor’s job offer.

Or at least, she’d timidly nodded.

Until moments ago, when she’d whispered his name, Lily had never actually said a word to Connor Reid. Not that he had spoken to her since he offered her the job. Mostly, communications passed from Connor to Bear to Kelly to Lily—like something out of high school.

Once, Kelly had tried to use Seren as an intermediary, but that hadn’t gone well.

Given the naked-Connor situation, there was nothing for it but to summon some goddamn courage. Lily opened her mouth, willing words to come.

As Connor stared down at Lily, her pale pink lips parted as if to speak. But there was only silence, save the birds and the bee hums and the trickle of water from a nearby stream.

The tip of Lily’s tongue slipped out to moisten her lower lip, and Connor stifled a groan. She opened her mouth to try again, with no more luck than before. He was hung up on those lips, on imagining what he’d like to do with them, which didn’t help the situation down south at all.

Frustrated, Connor growled, only to hear Lily’s breath catch. Then he felt like an asshole. He should say something. Mentally, he considered his options.

Sorry I made you think I was gonna eat you. Yeah, he probably shouldn’t apologize for something he lived in hope of.

Sorry about the cockstand. Suave. Real suave.

Sorry I can’t stop staring at your legs. Oh-for-fuck’s-sake.

He went with the one thing his options all had in common. I’m sorry.

Arctic blue eyes flicked up to his. Lily hesitated then spoke softly. You’re sorry?

He nodded. I didn’t mean . . . he paused, struggling for words, . . . to scare you.

She looked down. It’s okay. Then she took a deep breath. You didn’t mean to.

Silence again.

Do you . . . need help up? Connor asked.

Up? Lily repeated, as though it was a foreign word.

The conversation lacked confidence. It didn’t know where it was going, much less how to get there. It just stumbled along blindly.

To stand.

Um, no? She said it like it was a question.

No?

Yes, she confirmed.

Yes? Connor repeated, taking that for assent as he strode forward.

Lily shrank into the grass. Um, what?

Connor paused. You want help up.

I do?

You said so.

I did?

He nodded, a single chin tilt that was sharp but somehow earnest.

Oh, I, no. I’m . . . fine. As if to prove it, Lily buried her hands in the grass and pushed up. She wasn’t even halfway standing when she gasped and shifted to take the weight off her left ankle. Then she began to topple forward.

Lily never saw him move.

He was just there.

Connor’s big hands encircled her waist, steadying her. Lily instinctively clutched his forearms as her vision was filled with bronze skin an inch from her nose. Her warm breath skittered against Connor’s chest.

He was so close.

Once more she froze, as though utter stillness could keep her safe.

A tiny whimper escaped her throat.

"Won’t hurt you. Swear it." The words were torn from Connor, like the idea that Lily thought he would do her harm was killing him. There was something in those words, in his voice that tugged at her.

She concentrated on the white crescents her nails clawed deep in his forearms. It had to hurt, but he didn’t flinch. He was still. Every atom. Waiting on Lily.

It took several minutes, but slowly her fear receded until she could lift her eyes to his. Lily swallowed. When she spoke, it was the softest whisper, but Connor heard it all the same.

I know.

Lily tried to ignore all the hard maleness holding her upright. She may as well have asked the sun to stop shining. It was impossible, and the emotions that rioted through her body left her utterly confused. On the one hand, there was the fear. But it wasn’t the kind she was used to.

It tasted different. Cast a different shadow.

As though it might not be entirely unwelcome. But that didn’t make sense.

The other emotion was foreign. It was soft and trembled, but it wasn’t fear. It felt like someone was trailing tiny feathers along her skin, softly, softly.

It felt nice, even as it made her want . . . something.

Was this . . . desire?

Lily wasn’t certain, but she thought it might be. She looked up at the man who had inspired the emotion and swallowed.

No. No. No.

He was altogether too big, too strong, too dangerous. Far more than she could handle. She had a difficult enough task ahead, reclaiming herself, to ever contemplate what Connor Reid made her feel in those rare moments when she was strong enough to set aside the fear.

He was not for her.

It was utterly impossible.

Lily pushed against Connor. His hands tightened infinitesimally then let her go.

When Lily tried once more to put weight on her ankle, she hissed in pain and began to teeter. This time, Connor simply swung her up in his arms. Lily instinctively wrapped her own around his neck. She clung to him tightly as Connor started walking.

What are you doing? The words escaped, startled.

He didn’t reply. So Lily asked him again.

Finally, he answered, Isn’t it obvious?

Not to me.

I’m carryin’ you.

You can’t.

Connor ignored the words that all women seemed to feel obliged to say to men who were carrying them and strode back the way Lily came. She and Seren had a cabin about two miles away. That fact may even be the reason he was in this neck of the woods. Marking territory, making sure it was safe.

But you’re . . . you’re . . . you’re . . .

I’m . . .

She pointedly looked over his shoulder at the forest behind them as one hand left his nape, and she flicked her wrist, gesturing at him.

At all of him.

An inexplicable urge overcame Connor’s normal reticence, and his eyes narrowed. Say it.

Fear temporarily forgotten, Lily’s voice emerged like that of a scandalized nun: "Naked."

I’m a shifter. He said it like that explained everything. It kind of did. Clothing and shifting did not mix.

I don’t want you to carry me.

That brought Connor up short, and he looked down, regarding Lily steadily. Only one other option.

He was silent until she was forced to turn her head and meet his gaze.

You can ride me.

Chapter 3

Lily gasped. The image that filled her mind was dirty. Far too explicit for someone with her lack of sexual experience. " I can what? "

Ride. Me.

"I’m not . . . That is to say . . . Ride you?"

Connor grunted. It was evidently meant to be an affirmative.

Clearly, they were imagining different things when it came to ‘riding’ Connor. Lily reset her mental image. Surely, he meant piggyback riding. But he’d still be naked. How is me . . . riding you . . . an improvement?

Whiskey eyes looked intently down into hers. Riding . . . his voice was husky, my wilding.

For the umpteenth time, Lily lost her breath.

If she understood Connor correctly, he was suggesting that she ride a grizzly bear like it was a pony.

A pony!

She remembered how terrified she’d been when she’d seen that grizzly. Of course, she hadn’t known it was a shifter in wilding form. But the knowledge did little to alleviate her fear. It wasn’t a logical thing. Perhaps if she’d had more contact with predatory shifter species in her life, it would be an easier concept to grasp.

But she hadn’t.

There was only Seren, and the first time she’d seen Seren shift, they’d been friends long enough that Lily knew she was utterly safe. Even so, a shifted Seren was hardly a ten-foot grizzly bear.

Damn her ankle.

Damn the stupid rock she’d twisted it on.

The thing throbbed, and she knew she’d never make it back on her own. It came down to a choice. Which was the lesser of two evils?

Naked Connor Reid carrying her through the woods?

Or mounting up?

She wasn’t sure how long Connor held her while she decided. It could have been a minute. It could’ve been five. He just waited patiently while she gathered her courage and then one word slipped out. Wilding.

Connor didn’t acknowledge her choice. He simply slid into smooth motion. He gently lowered the legs he was cradling until Lily’s blue Sketchers met the ground. She wished that her feet were bare, so she could curl her toes in the soft green grass. Tactile sensations felt strangely acute, but she didn’t know why. Then Connor turned his back to her and took a knee. He reached behind and, one at a time, clasped small hands and guided them to his shoulders.

Lily was pliant.

Too bewildered to resist.

Then, too enraptured by the pure bliss of contact.

She had never, so long as she lived, laid her hands upon a man, which meant that she had never felt anything like this. Her mind struggled to describe the sensation as it traveled from her fingertips and her palm through her body to all her nerve centers. The sense of touch, she realized, was the most precious sense of all. Clearly one she’d taken for granted, because until now, she’d never known its promise.

What if she were to slide her hands down his shoulder blades? Would that amplify the extraordinary feelings?

She didn’t dare.

She wasn’t that brave.

Then, as though it was just one more thing in a day of extraordinary occurrences, sunlight sparked, and the warm skin under her palms changed. Suddenly, her fingers were buried deep in luxurious fur. She clenched them instinctively then her whole body was lifted as, beneath her, Connor shifted. As the sparks faded, she was left curled up on the back of a grizzly bear.

The feel of his pelt under her fingertips, caressing every inch of her bare legs, was almost—almost—as extraordinary as his warm skin.

Then Connor began to move.

She’d expected his gait to be lumbering, but it wasn’t. He strode smoothly, redolently. Like he belonged in this forest. Still, his fur was slick, and she needed a better perch to ensure she didn’t tumble to the ground. Lily uncurled her legs and slid them down along Connor’s sides until she straddled him. Until every inch of those limbs, from her calves up to her sensitive knees and the delicate skin of her inner thighs, was hugging malt fur. Each step he took rocked her gently against that fur, sending confusing sensations through her body.

Lily’s hands flexed in his pelt.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing; she just felt compelled . . . She tilted her pelvis to just the right angle and . . . Oh my sweet Mary.

She almost fell off.

That felt . . .

Her breath caught in her throat, and she sat up straight, determined not to move so much as another inch, for as long as this ride lasted.

Lily weighed less than a flea. Not that it mattered worth a damn. Conner was still intensely aware of her. He finally had her legs wrapped around him, and if he trusted his sensitive grizzly nose, then she liked it one hell of a lot.

But, no. That had to be wishful thinking. There was no way Lily Amaretto wanted him. Not when she feared him. Connor concentrated on walking, one foot after the other, after the other. Walking and pretending that his most secret desire wasn’t sprawled across his back.

Then Lily and Seren’s small cabin came into view. In moments this would be over, which was a benediction and a curse. As he approached the cabin steps, Connor shifted and stood in the same motion, careful not to tip Lily from his back. He slid one hand behind him as he hauled her around to his front, cradling her in his arms once more. Connor walked up the cabin steps then forced himself to release Lily, sliding her down onto an old porch swing.

Near as far as he figured, that would probably be the last time he ever held Lily Amaretto. His voice was gruff when he muttered, Bandages?

She looked up at him blankly.

Connor gestured towards her ankle.

Oh, ah . . . There’s a first-aid kit in the kitchen cupboard.

Connor went inside the cabin. As a former Marine, he was always attuned to his environment. He was aware of the shabby interior, the old wood, with sections in need of repair, the few items of lackluster, secondhand furniture, but he refused to look closely. Lily hadn’t invited him into her space, and he figured too much had already been taken from this woman, so he tried to respect her privacy.

Conner quickly located the first aid kit and pulled out a pack of frozen peas from the freezer, then he snagged a towel from a pile of washing in a basket that sat atop a small, two-person dining table. He wrapped the towel around his waist before grabbing the other items and returning to Lily.

When Connor came back and his lean hips were wrapped in a towel, Lily wanted to sigh in relief, and, she was surprised to realize, disappointment.

She did neither.

Instead, her breath caught when Connor knelt before her and the towel parted across his strong thighs. She could only see shadows, but she knew what they hid. Her eyes caught on the thin, rough terry cloth, and she cringed. Connor flinched, but she wasn’t sure why. She was preoccupied with the thought of Connor and that towel. Of what it revealed.

Connor wasn’t a talker, but she’d wager he was astute. The rundown cabin in need of repair, sporting the same broken furniture that came with it because no one cared enough to remove it. A towel that should have long ago been donated to an animal shelter . . . It all said one thing.

She and Seren were broke.

They had spent every penny they had on the tattoo parlor Seren ran, Ink Anima, and the down payment on this cabin. They both needed to work to pay the mortgage, which meant she couldn’t afford to lose the job at Connor’s company.

About . . . tomorrow.

Whiskey eyes flicked up to hers.

Coming to . . . work for you.

They regarded her steadily.

That’s all still . . . going ahead? It’d be nice if she could form a sentence without a pregnant pause.

Connor nodded sharply then wrapped a big hand around her calf, lifting her foot and resting it on his thigh. Nimble fingers unlaced her worn blue Sketcher, bought secondhand and just a touch too big. He gently pulled it off, along with her white ankle sock.

Delighted by the freedom, Lily wriggled her toes in the shaded sunlight of the porch. Face down, the left side of Connor’s mouth curved for an instant, but Lily didn’t see.

She was too preoccupied, since Connor had wrapped both big hands around her foot and was gently manipulating it, eyes flicking up to watch Lily’s face for any reaction. The pain wasn’t too bad, but she grimaced when he turned it to the side.

Sprained, he muttered.

Connor opened the first-aid kit and extracted a bandage before expertly beginning to wrap her ankle. She wanted to ask him if that was something he’d learned in the Marines, but she didn’t. She just watched him work. Moments before he reached the end of the bandage, he laid the frozen pack of peas over her ankle and wrapped the bandage to hold it in place, before tying off the end of the fabric and slipping the tail into the folds.

Then, before she could blink, he slid an arm under both her knees, lifting and spinning her so that Lily lay lengthways along the porch swing, propped up against the armrest. He grabbed the pillow from the opposite side and slid it behind her