Saving Her Bear: A Second Chances Romance

SAVING HER BEAR

Second Chances

By

Alana Hart & Michaela Wright

Copyright © 2015 Alana Hart & Michaela Wright

All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

Published by Hartfelt Books

Image by Kozzi

Sneak Peek!

TAKEN IN BY THE PACK

By Alana Hart & Jazzmyn Wolfe

I moved to one side and held the door open, and Bryson followed close on my heels; even still, in the close quarters of the entryway, he brushed against me as he went past, and it made my breath catch, as tingles radiated outward from the contact. Once we were both inside, I closed the door and locked the deadbolt out of habit. I let my book bag drop next to the door, since there was something much more immediate to deal with than putting it in its usual place. I remained facing the door for a long moment, collecting my thoughts.

I finally turned, and nearly jumped back — not that it would have done me much good, I was almost touching the door behind me as it was — to find Bryson no more than a handful of inches away from me. I looked up into his face, wide-eyed. My breath came more quickly, and an aching knot formed in my belly. I could feel the heat radiating off of him, and my own body seemed to grow hotter to match. Part of me wanted to run in terror, and part of me wanted to throw myself on this magnificent man who would so obviously welcome it.

He lifted his arms, clearly with the intent of wrapping them around me, drawing me to him in an embrace. In a snap decision, I ducked a bit and slipped past his arm before it encircled me. I wasn’t quite ready for that, not just yet at least. I wanted my head to stay relatively clear for at least a few minutes. There would be plenty of time to get lost in the moment with him, after I got some answers and if I decided that was what I wanted after I had those answers.

“Uhm. I need to — to go change. I was just at the gym.” I plucked at the hem of my shirt, as if that would somehow clarify my meaning. Of course, I hadn’t worn these clothes there, and I’d showered before I put them back on, but there was no need to tell him that. I just needed an excuse to put some distance between us for a minute.

He frowned slightly, and there was a deep hurt in his eyes. Was that a look of rejection? Did he think that was an answer on my part, a refusal? He pushed the hurt aside quickly though, his face crinkling up in a mockingly lecherous grin. “I could come help you change if you want?”

I rolled my eyes, giving him an exasperated look. “I think I can manage to change my clothes by myself. I have been managing for quite a few years now on my own, anyway. And besides, if you tried to help, I don’t think the new clothes would be likely to make it on any time soon.” I began to step backwards slowly as I spoke, putting more space between us as I headed toward my bedroom.

“Well, sure, that’s the point.” He grinned more broadly. Damn, he’s sexy when he grins like that, with his eyes all lit up and— I stopped that line of thinking in its tracks. Not. Helpful.

I scrunched my face up at him, kind of like an annoyed version of a duck-face. “Oh, you’re impossible. Just have a seat,” I waved a hand to indicate my threadbare couch, “and I’ll be back out in a couple of minutes, okay?”

He sighed, shoulders slumping somewhat, but nodded. “Alright, alright. Just don’t take too long, yeah?” How could a young man so obviously used to being in charge, to being powerful in every way that mattered, look so incredibly pitiful at such a minor disappointment?

I bit my lip, and just nodded shallowly in response, before turning to flee into the sanctuary of my bedroom, closing the door firmly.

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CHAPTER ONE

“Just come home, honey. We can figure this all out.”

Catherine stood just outside the rest area convenience store waiting for her cousin Bennett to return from his snack and potty run. She held the phone to her ear with a strange tension in her stomach. She hadn’t wanted to hear her mother’s voice again so soon.

“No, I’m not coming home.”

Her mother made a huffing sound on the other end of the line. “You’re being ridiculous! I know Charlie can get a little out of hand sometimes, but it’s all settled now. It’s all settled and – you know Grampy doesn’t need you coming up there and putting him out like that.”

Catherine closed her eyes. This was a fear she harbored, but there was a truth she wasn’t willing to share about going back north to Maine. There was more there than just Grampy Calhoun’s potential guest bedroom.

“Mom, if I had any other choice, believe me, I wouldn’t be looking to stay with Grampy.”

“Does he even know you’re coming? Has Bennett asked his father if you’re even welcome? Damn it, Catie! Just come back before you upset everybody.”

“Never. I will never set foot in that house again.”

Linda Calhoun groaned on the other end of the line. “How am I gonna take care of the house? What am I supposed to do?”

Catherine’s eyes were welling up. Hearing her mother try to guilt her to come home was both infuriating and heartbreaking. Why couldn’t she see what she was doing?

“You lied! You lied for that piece of shit and I almost went to fucking jail. Your house can burn to the ground for all I care!”

“Don’t say that, Catie. It’s not my fault -”

Bennett appeared at her shoulder and Catherine practically deflated in relief. “We’re getting back on the road. Good bye, Mom. Good bye!”

She hung up, turning to receive the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups Bennett had snagged for her.

She smiled up at her cousin. “Thank you.”

Bennett nodded, then started back toward the truck. “You almost went to jail?”

Catherine glared at him. “Don’t.”

They piled back into the truck, and a few moments later, Catherine’s new friend Jean returned from the restroom. They were off, hauling ass out of Kennebunk the way only Bennett could, his mighty engine growling up the onramp of Route 95. Catherine had to ignore four calls from her mother by the time they were coming into Bangor.

“You’ve never been this far north?”

Bennett was glancing into his rearview mirror at Jean Trainor, giving her more attention than Catherine would like. She didn’t mind that he was chatting her up, what she minded was that he wouldn’t keep his damn eyes on the road.

“Benny!” Catherine shrieked as they veered a little too close to the guardrail.

He straightened, scoffing at her. “Calm down, cuz. I’m not gonna kill us. Jesus.”

“Yeah, then quit acting like it.”

“No, I’ve never been this far north. Pretty sure I’ve never been past Old Orchard Beach,” Jean said, leaning her blonde head over the front seat to be a part of the conversation. She gave Catherine’s shoulder a quick scratch to show her solidarity. Catherine wasn’t the only one hoping Bennett would keep them alive.

Bennett whistled. “Well, then you’re in for a treat. This is what real Maine looks like.”

Catherine laughed. They were in the no man’s land of Route 95 between Bangor and Cherryfield. There was nothing to praise here save for trees and more trees – and maybe a couple dilapidated barns.

“It looks lovely,” Jean offered.

Bennett shook his head. “Wait til we get to camp. Acadia’s got nothing on Blackrock.”

Catherine didn’t disagree. Still, she’d grown up around these parts, where the nearest Target or Home Depot was at least an hour and a half drive. It was almost four hours to the nearest Trader Joe’s. Despite the sad circumstances of her family’s moving away, she couldn’t say she didn’t enjoy the convenience of living closer to civilization.

“Did Catherine tell you the creepy shit that happened in Blackrock when we were kids?”

Catherine groaned, rolling her eyes. “Please don’t.”

Jean shook Bennett’s shoulder. He smiled at her touch.

“No, please do. I love this kind of stuff,” she said.

“You sure? It’s kinda scary, and you’re gonna be sleeping in these woods tonight with no one to protect you.”

Catherine shook her head, but Jean pleaded with him. “I’ll have you. Come on, now. Don’t listen to Catherine. Tell me.”

Bennett flushed at her comment, his full face turning a pretty pink. Bennett wasn’t a slender man. He was built like a rugby player, thick in every part of him, much like all of the Calhoun men in her family. His brown hair was shorn short in a buzz-cut, now growing out enough to give a full bristly texture when someone ran their hand over his head. He was a handsome guy, and Catherine thought Jean could do far worse than cuddle up to a guy like Bennett.

Bennett set off to tell the tale of the Blackrock swimming hole, a place she’d ventured with him many times when they were kids.

In Blackrock, there’s this popular spot where everyone likes to go in the summer. There’s a lake and miles of woods – it’s called Parkhurst. We used to swim there, my dad likes to hunt there – just super popular. So, there’s this rope swing that hangs out over the water. You climb up this massive boulder, grab on and pray your grip is strong enough to carry you long enough to make it to the water. I’ve seen some guys just bite it after a night of drinking, thinking they could hold on, and just dropped like a stone to the beach. It’s not a huge drop, but I’ve seen some split chins.

“Get on with it, Benny,” Catherine said.

Sorry, sorry.

Anyway, so Catherine and I went there all the time when we were kids. One day we get down there and a couple of my friends from school are there with their family – you remember those guys, right Catie?

Catherine nodded. Yes, she remembered his friends. She remembered one in particular.

Well, they’re there, but they’re not swimming. Their parents are there taking their boats out over the water, and a couple of em are putting on goggles, swimming across the lake.

Catherine felt a chill run down her spine remembering that day. It was one of the last times she ever went swimming there.

“Sounds like fun!” Jean said, glancing at Catherine for explanation to Bennett’s tone.

“That’s the thing. They weren’t having fun. They were ‘trudging’ the lake.”

Jean gave a half gasp.

“Apparently, a woman named Alison Fenn had gone for a walk in the woods a few nights earlier, and never came back.”

“Did you really need to tell this story, Ben? God, you’re gonna ruin my day.”

Bennett smiled at Catherine. “Don’t worry. You’ll feel better when you hear who might be there tonight.”

Catherine stopped, turning to stare at him. She licked her lips, glancing at Jean’s confused expression. “Who?”

Bennett just smiled. “She knows who.”

Jean tapped Bennett then, egging him on. “So what happened? Did they find her?”