Read Online The Bear Who Loved Me by Kathy Lyons - Free Book Online Page B

hope for him. Carl would have to kill him for everyone’s safety. And that, of course, was Carl’s most critical delaying tactic. His every spare moment was devoted to finding a way to keep the wilder members of the community from giving in to the beast inside. Because when a shifter went feral, people died.
    Meanwhile, Alan looked up, his expression shifting into wry amusement. “She looks like a woman on a mission.”
    Carl didn’t need to look to know he was talking about Becca. He’d been aware of exactly where she was all evening. Worse, she’d tried to get his attention at least six times, but he’d managed to escape before she forced a discussion she wasn’t ready for. He didn’t think she’d let him get away with it again. Which meant it was time to bring out the big guns.
    He pushed up from his seat, pitching his voice for her to hear. “Hey, would you like to meet Theo’s grandfather?”
    His brother snorted. “Subtle…not.”
    “Whatever works,” he said with a hard glare. There was a message in that for his brother. It said quite clearly that Carl would do whatever it took to maintain the safety of the clan. Even if it meant unfairly demoting his brother. Or refusing to talk to a determined Becca.
    He saw the message land as his brother flushed red, his head tilted, and his body shifted into a submissive pose. Carl the man wanted to follow up with a brotherly comment. Something to soothe the sting, but he didn’t have time. Becca had arrived, her body tense, her eyes startled by his comment.
    “Theo’s grandfather?” she said, her eyes panicked as she scanned the crowd.
    “This way,” he said as he grabbed hold of her elbow and pulled her intimately close. That was his bear again, disrupting Carl’s calm by breathing her scent deep into his lungs while her body heated every part of him.
    Hell, this was torture. He had to get away from her quickly, before he lost control. So he was a little too rushed as he steered her to a corner, where Isaac was telling stories to a circle of shifter kids. “I’m sure he’d love to get to know you better right after story time. Besides,” he said when she turned back to him, “you can hear our version of the fairy tales.”
    “I’d rather talk to you—” she began, but he cut her off.
    “It’s important for you to hear our stories told our way.” Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother was a feral werewolf, as was the huffing and puffing wolf from “The Three Little Pigs.” Grendel from Beowulf was a bear shifter, though obviously that wasn’t a happy tale. More of an instructional lesson about not revealing yourself to ordinary people who then declared you a monster and decided to kill you. “And, besides, I’ve got to talk to Alan.” He dropped her off at the edge of the group, then ducked away.
    He was being a rampant coward, but he needed to gain some space from the woman. She stirred up things in him best ignored during the current crisis. Hot, erotic things that had no place in the clan while children were wandering lost in the wild. So he took the excuse and was grateful that those three tales bought him another hour to interact quietly with his clan. Plus, Marty had added a great deal of brandy to dinner, so he got a little mellower after his third bowl of stew.
    And right when Isaac was deep into the “Three Billy Goats Gruff”—ram shifters vs. bear shifters—Carl slipped outside. It was time for his shift at the southern border of the park, and he was looking forward to some quiet time under the stars to think. It took him ten minutes to gather the supplies he needed, and then he climbed into his truck. He hadn’t even touched the ignition when she hopped into the cab.
    He didn’t look at her—too distracting. Besides, he could smell her determination filling the cab. Right along with his sexual pheromones. Lord, he hated it when he smelled like a randy teenager, but apparently she ramped up his lust without even doing more