Bear Necessities (Bad Boy Alphas): A Post-Apocalyptic Bear Shifter Romance (30 page)

He’d probably been good enough today to travel, but she hadn’t wanted to chance it. He’d howled forlornly when she left him at the house. But it was better safe than sorry—that’s what her father always said, and Ivy had discovered that it was mostly true. Although in this case, having Nikon with her could have prevented her current predicament all the way around. If he’d been with her, she might never have gotten close to the bear at all, and subsequently set off running, twisting her ankle in the process.

Ivy winced when she tried to flex her foot. It felt double its normal size inside her shoe, but she was afraid to look. If it was broken, she didn’t know what she was going to do. There was no one around to help her. She had lots of medical books, and could probably set a bone herself—maybe. But if it was really broken, if it needed things like pins and traction and…

What was she going to do then?

Accidents were far more dangerous now than they’d ever been before. There were no phones to call 911, no ambulance just minutes away. The hospitals—she didn’t even know if they existed anymore. She was pretty sure they didn’t. She tried flexing her foot, and she could move it. It hurt, but it moved. That was a good sign.

Still, she didn’t relish the prospect of walking home through the woods on it with a giant bear lurking out there. It was probably just sprained. But even with a sprained ankle, she wasn’t sure she could make it back without at least a little recovery time.

And she’d spent too long picking berries, had been too greedy filling her bucket, thinking of the canning she was going to do. She’d made a late, impulsive start and let the afternoon get away from her. The light floating through the dust motes from the window was slanted and fading. In fact, it was growing dark much faster than it should, considering.

Then she heard the distant rumble of thunder.

Perfect.

“Well, this is a fine kettle of chuckle fucks,” she muttered, staring morosely at her stupid ankle.

She contemplated her options, still listening for any sounds that might be bear-like outside the back door, when the front door burst open somewhere behind her. She’d been so focused on one door, she’d completely forgotten about the other.

But it was locked. That damned door was locked, I know it was! I tried, but it wouldn’t open!

Whatever had come through the front door hadn’t encountered any barrier at all, it seemed. She whirled around, rising to her feet, tottering and unsteady, cringing at the way her ankle buckled and threatened to go out from under her. But she remained upright, just barely, as she heard footsteps coming down the hall.

Footsteps?

Whatever was coming, it wasn’t a bear.

Ivy leaned against the wall for support, raising the gun, suddenly more terrified than she had been when facing the enormous bear. She knew what those heavy footfalls meant, even though she wanted to deny it. There was a man coming down that hallway—a man wearing boots, perhaps. That’s exactly what it sounded like.

Ivy hadn’t seen another human being in years. The thought terrified her.

“Don’t come any closer!” Her voice shook, almost as much as her hands, but she managed to hold the rifle up as a man’s frame filled the doorway. He was still in shadow, and the light was growing dim, but she knew it was a man, no doubt about that. “If I were you, I’d just turn around and walk away.”

“You don’t want to shoot me.” It was a statement, not a question, and the man’s voice was deep, confident, as he stepped into the room. He filled all available space, his bare, bronze shoulders so broad they nearly brushed the sides of the door frame. It had been so long since she’d seen another human being, let alone a man, that she was almost struck dumb by the sight and sound of him.

“Maybe not, but I will.” Ivy found her voice and straightened on her one good leg, trying to make herself appear as tall as possible, making sure he could see the rifle she had aimed at his chest.

The man was wearing boots, just as she’d suspected, and a pair of pants that might have once been khakis, but above the waist, he was bare. His skin was sheened with sweat, as if he’d been working hard, or maybe running. Where in the world had he come from? She wondered, her gaze moving up over miles of ridged abdomen and sculpted muscle to meet his intense blue eyes. Even in the fading light, those eyes were bright and piercing, rooting her to the spot.

“I won’t hurt you.” He held his hands up to placate her, giving a little shake of his dark, shaggy head, flashing her half a smile from behind his dark beard. “I promise.”

“I’m the one with the gun.” She gave a little snort at his ‘promise,’ shaking her own head. “Not another step forward, or I swear, I
will
shoot you.”

“Have it your way.” He shrugged, leaning one bare shoulder against the door frame. “But I’m not the one who broke in.”

“Broke in?” she sputtered, looking around and giving a little laugh. “This place has been abandoned for ages. You don’t live here.”

“I do now.” He crossed his arms, pinning her with that sharp, blue gaze.

She contemplated this, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. Whoever he was, wherever he’d come from, it really didn’t matter. He was here now, and she was going to have to deal with him. It had been so long since she’d interacted with another human being, she’d almost forgotten how to do it.

“That’s fine.” She edged closer to the door. Her ankle was throbbing. How in the hell was she going to get home? She wondered, but that was the least of her worries now, wasn’t it? “I’ll just be going...”

He didn’t move, watching her fumble with the latch—she refused to take her gaze off him, even for a minute—as she struggled to get the door open one-handed, all while attempting to keep the rifle aimed in his general direction. She finally yanked it open—it had stuck fast when she slammed it closed with her foot—crying out when her weight went almost fully onto her bad leg. Just as she’d feared, her ankle couldn’t hold her weight, and she would have crumpled into a heap if it weren’t for him.

“Easy.” One minute he was leaning against the door frame, the next, he was beside her, one big hand gripping her elbow to keep her upright, the other going around her waist. “I got you.”

“Let me go,” she gasped, but she knew it was useless now. She couldn’t walk. Her ankle was screaming in pain and she felt tears sting her eyes as the man eased her back inside and closed the door again.

That’s when she remembered the bear. Was it still out there, sniffing around at the edge of the clearing? The danger lurking out there in the growing shadows was beginning to pale in comparison to the one in here.

“You’re hurt.” His voice was kind, even concerned, but Ivy still tried to pull away. Her ankle howled in protest, making her bite her lip to keep from howling, too.

“Hey!” She cried out when he sighed and picked her up, carrying her, rifle, backpack and all. “Put me down!”

“I am.” He lowered her carefully onto the mattress while Ivy struggled to push him away. It was like trying to move a mountain—one made of flesh and bone. “Easy. I’m not going to hurt you, remember?”

“I’m supposed to believe that?” she scoffed, pushing at his big, beefy hands as they inspected her injured leg. “How do I know you’re not going to rape me? Or—or eat me?”

“If I wanted to do either, you’d be naked already.” The man’s words made Ivy flush with heat. His hands moved swiftly down her shin and calf as he knelt beside the mattress. She whimpered when he squeezed her ankle. It was singing with pain now. A high-pitched operatic aria. “I’m Caleb, by the way. How did you twist your ankle?”

“Running from a bear,” she confessed, yelping when Caleb eased her shoe off her foot. He seemed less intimidating, now that he had a name—not that she was going to give him hers or anything. Besides, she knew he was right. If he wanted to hurt her—in any way—he could have done it already a hundred times over. “I was picking strawberries. So was he. We kind of ran into each other.”

“Why didn’t you shoot it?” the big man asked, peeling her sock down gently, revealing the swollen side of her foot. It was already bruised, turning the same pink and purple as the sky outside.

“I didn’t get a chance,” she lied, biting her lip as Caleb pushed and prodded and pulled at her foot, testing it, she knew, to see if it was broken. That didn’t make it any less painful. “Owwww! Ow ow ow! Fuck nuggets! Would you quit?”

“Sorry,” he apologized, grinning as he eased her sock back up. “You’re lucky, it’s just sprained—but it’s a bad one. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

“Oh, yes, I am.” She reached for her shoe, scowling at him. “I have to. Nikon’s waiting for me at home.”

“Nikon?” He lifted one eyebrow.

“My dog,” she panted, trying to pull her shoe back on. It was an exercise in Twister torture. She gave up with a sigh. “I can’t leave him all night.”

“You may have to.” Caleb frowned at the fading light coming in from the broken window. “It’s getting dark—and you wouldn’t make it twenty feet on that ankle.”

“What are you proposing?” She blinked at him. “That I stay here? I don’t think so.”

“How far away is home?” He cocked his head at her.

The thought of telling this man where she lived made her belly clench with fear. He seemed to understand her predicament as he stood and went to the window to peer out. She made another attempt at putting her shoe on, but it was like trying to stuff biscuit dough back into a busted container. Her ankle was fat and purple and she wasn’t so sure it wasn’t broken.

And the thought of biscuit dough made her stomach growl—loudly.

“I’ll take you back.” The man sighed, turning back toward her, his big arms crossed over his broad chest.

“I’ll be fine,” Ivy insisted.

She’d managed to wedge her foot back into her shoe—just barely, and not without biting back a few screams—but when she tried to get up, she completely failed. And it wasn’t just a little failure either—it was a colossal fail that involved a loud, unavoidable howl on her part as she collapsed back onto the mattress beside her rifle. She tried hard not to cry at the searing pain shooting up her leg, wondering what in the hell she was going to do.

“If you want me to take you, we should get going.” His voice brought Ivy’s head up and she tucked her hair behind her ears, contemplating her limited options, still trying not to cry. “Storm’s rolling in.”

“Of course it is,” she murmured, blinking back hot tears. “Cherry on the cake of my day.”

“Don’t you mean strawberry?” The teasing note in his voice brought a little smile to her lips.

“Don’t remind me.” She groaned, rolling over on the mattress in another attempt at rising. “That damned bear cost me jars and jars of strawberry jam. Not to mention the shortcake I was planning.”

“Shortcake?” Caleb was at her elbow, helping her to her feet. Well, foot. She still couldn’t put weight on the injured one. And her back pack made her even more imbalanced.

“I make a mean apocalypse shortcake, I’ll have you know,” she informed him, reaching out to the bureau so he wouldn’t have to keep holding onto her. She teetered but stayed upright as she shook him loose. Caleb took a step back, cocking his head and shaking it with a little sigh, letting her negotiate on one foot.

She didn’t like how close he was standing. His presence making her skin prickle. Ivy began to protest when Caleb reached toward her, but then he opened the top bureau drawer, pulling out a shirt, and she closed her mouth with an audible snap.

The big man slid his arms into the shirt sleeves while Ivy stood, balancing on one foot, watching him with wary eyes. He moved back, buttoning the buttons from top to bottom, his gaze never leaving her. The way he looked at her made her feel very exposed and vulnerable—and she supposed she was. That made her remember the rifle she’d left on the mattress and she glanced at it, knowing it wasn’t going to protect her from the predicament she now found herself in.

“All right, shortcake.” Caleb reached down to retrieve her rifle. Again, she opened her mouth to protest, but he handed it over to her without hesitation. Ivy took it, slinging it over her shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

“No, wait…” Ivy shook her head, shrinking against the bureau as Caleb took a step toward her.

“Don’t you want to go home?”

Of course she did. She wanted to
be
home, curled up with Nikon snoring at the foot of the bed, keeping her feet warm, while she read her dog-eared copy of Lord of the Rings for the millionth time. Even the sweet, distant thought of strawberry shortcake had been obliterated by her run-in with the bear, and now this big, bearded stranger.

“The way I see it, you have two options.” The man ticked them off on his fingers. “You can stay here overnight with me.”

Ivy was already shaking her head vehemently at that.

“Or you can let me take you back to wherever you left your dog.”

The thought of Nikon locked up all night with no real concept of time, every moment feeling like forever, wondering where in the world she’d gone, made up her mind. She’d been reluctant to leave him in the first place, and she was sorry now that she had.

“I have to get home,” she insisted, sighing at the sound of thunder. The storm was getting closer. “But you’re right, there’s no way I can walk. Do you… maybe have a small vehicle I could borrow? An ATV? Even a little lawnmower or golf cart…?”