“I ’ll be damned,” Frankie muttered to himself as he negotiated Hope Valley’s late afternoon traffic in his ancient, dark-gray Chevy Lumina. He’d been working for Selma for ten days now, and there’d been a few times when he’d turned around in the midst of nailing boards or digging up earth, and there she’d been, phone in hand, big gray eyes flashing guiltily. But he’d thought she was checking up on him, making sure he wasn’t butchering her shrubs. It’d never crossed his mind she was stealing his image. Who’d ever heard of such a thing ?
And pretending that I was her boyfriend? He laughed out loud. Five minutes ago, he’d been all shaken up. But now the whole thing seemed funny as hell. She was cute. More than cute. That sweet, curvy body of hers had gotten his bear panting every time he laid eyes on her. And any time she bent over to do something and the edge of her shirt lifted to reveal a swatch of soft flesh, it had been all he could do to stop it from purring. But she was the ditsiest female he’d ever met, bar none .
“What kind of a person would pretend to have a boyfriend anyway?” he muttered as he turned onto the highway that would bring him to the edge of the national park where he lived. He’d been single all his adult life, and he didn’t see any reason to hide that from anyone. Most of his clan had found their mates already, through Shiftr, a dating app that connected shape shifter guys with beautiful, curvy human women. Connor, the clan’s alpha and his older brother, insisted they all had a profile. But Frankie had never found a match above seventy-five percent, and he was secretly glad. He knew there was nobody out there for him .
And he was happy with his life the way it was, hanging with his clan and their mates and playing with their little cubs who all called him Uncle Frankie. He wasn’t mating material, he knew that. If he ever felt the need to question his singledom he thought of his dad—his weak, cheating, lying alcoholic dad—locked up in a psychiatric unit. And he promised himself he’d stay single forever. As far as he was concerned, mating led to ruin—for both him and whichever female was unlucky enough to be his chosen one .
Nope. The last thing he was going to do was become Selma’s boyfriend-for-hire. That chick was as crazy as a box of snakes. And whatever was wrong with her life wasn’t something he wanted to get involved in. He should probably tell her he couldn’t work on the gazebo. It was a shame though—it looked like an interesting project for his woodcarving skills .
A s Frankie swung his car onto his driveway from the dirt track that ran through the forest, he caught sight of Connor sitting out on his porch three cabins away, carving away at a smallish piece of wood .
“Back early, bro?” Connor called as Frankie climbed out of the low-slung driver’s seat and slammed the door shut with a clunk and groan of hinges. He didn’t care that his car was a heap of junk. His bike was his real passion. A gleaming black Triumph Bonneville cruiser with a big, growly 1200cc engine and a single seat because he didn’t take passengers—ever. He would’ve preferred to ditch the car altogether, but a lot of his tools were too big to fit in his bike panniers .
“Yeah.” Frankie ran his hand through his messy hair as he approached Connor’s cabin. “I’m finished working for that lady .”
“Oh?” Connor frowned, his serious expression indicating he was deep in business mode. “I thought you said she had a couple more things for you to do ?”
Frankie puffed out his cheeks, climbed Connor’s porch steps, and flopped down on one of his wooden recliners. “Well, the kind of service she was looking for isn’t something I’m at liberty to provide .”
Connor shot him a sideways look and snorted. “What are you saying? She been asking you for a lap dance or something? An action replay of the Bear Heat strip show?” he asked, referring to the charity stripping tour the bears had done a while back .
“Ha. Not exactly. If that’s all she wanted, I’d happily have taken my clothes off .”
At that moment, Lauren came out of the cabin, carrying her and Connor’s three-year-old daughter, Willow, on her hip .
“Uncle Frankie!” Willow yelled and wriggled out of Lauren’s grasp before running over to him and scrambling onto his lap .
“Ow! Willow! You’re killing me, you big beast!” he yelled in mock agony while she giggled and clambered all over him as if he was a climbing wall in a gym. He put up with it for a while, then he pinned her down and tickled her tummy, making her squirm and shriek in delight. When he released her, she stopped moving and wrinkled her nose .
“You smell like flowers and a lady’s perfume,” she said .
He screwed up his face. “Aren’t you too young to be making these observations ?”
She blinked at him, trying to process his words .
“Shifter kids. I swear she’s more like an average six year old,” Lauren commented, leaning against the front door frame, gazing at her daughter indulgently. “Willow, why don’t you offer your uncle Frankie a nice cold drink? Looks like he’s had a tough day .”
“Do you want some Mountain Dew?” Willow asked, holding onto both sides of Frankie’s face and staring into his eyes, a very solemn expression in her huge brown ones. Since Lauren had large black eyes and Connor’s were deep brown, Frankie could never figure out which parent she’d got her eyes from .
He stuck his tongue out then pulled a face like he’d just sucked on a lemon. “Yuck. No thanks. It’s way too sweet .”
“That’s what my mom says. I’m only allowed it on special occasions .”
He tousled her messy brown curls. “That’s because she’s a very smart lady. You got any ice tea ?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I think so. Lemme go check.” When she scrambled off his lap, he winced as her hands and feet dug into the bare flesh of his thighs. Then she scampered inside, Lauren in tow .
Connor took a deep sniff in Frankie’s direction. “You know, you do smell like a lady’s perfume. You and that chick been getting friendly in the flowerbeds ?”
Frankie rolled his eyes. “Nope. No way. She’s crazy. Crazy as a wasp in a jar .”
Connor pulled himself up from his reclining position, eyes sparkling with interest. “Are you going to tell me what happened, or will I have to let Willow tickle it out of you ?”
Frankie groaned. “I caught her taking photos of me, and she says it’s because she wants to make out I’m her boyfriend .”
“What?” Connor roared with laughter .
Lauren returned with a tray of ice teas, Willow trying her best to carry it too, but hindering far more than she was helping. Lauren handed a drink to Frankie and Connor, then gave Willow her own drink in a red cup with a sipping spout. “There you go, honey. Why don’t you go play with your new car set while mommy and daddy talk work with Uncle Frankie ?”
“Okay,” Willow said and trotted over to the other side of the porch where a jumble of her toys lay .
Connor leapt to his feet and pulled up a chair for Lauren, and she settled into it with a contended sigh .
“What am I missing?” she said .
“Frankie’s telling us how he’s got himself a new girlfriend,” Connor said .
“Stop,” Frankie said in a low, growly voice. “The lady I’ve been doing some work for over in Hope Valley wants me to pretend to be her boyfriend. That’s all .”
“That’s all,” Connor echoed. “No big deal .”
Lauren’s eyes sparkled. “A good-looking guy like you, Frankie, you can’t blame her for wishing you were her boyfriend. But why does she want you to pretend ?”
He groaned. “Who knows? She’s crazy. She’s even been taking photos of me and having them printed out to show people at her job .”
“Woah. That’s pretty serious,” Lauren exclaimed .
Connor raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like she’s got something to hide .”
“Yeah. A big fat lie that she told about having a boyfriend, or still being in a relationship or something .”
Lauren pressed her lips together thoughtfully. “Who is she again ?”
“Her name’s Selma. She got our details from her friend Kenzie who’s mated to a wolf shifter .”
“Oh, Nash’s mate. I know them,” Connor said .
“Selma…petite girl with bouncy brown curls, cute dimples in her cheeks, big gray eyes. Lots of energy?” Lauren added .
“Sounds like the right one,” Frankie said in a pained tone .
“She came to one of our barbecues last year. She’s a nice girl.” Lauren squeezed Frankie’s knee. “Maybe a little playful for you, but lots of fun. I wonder what her deal is.” She laid a finger across her lip. “Oh…wait a minute. I think Kenzie told me she had a boyfriend. Things seemed to be going real well—he even popped the L-word. But one day, when they were supposed to be going away on a romantic weekend, he broke it off with no explanation .”
Connor blew out a puff of air. “That’s rough .”
“I know. According to Kenzie, the guy was a bit of a douche, but he was Selma’s first boyfriend, and it hit her hard .”
Frankie frowned and cracked his knuckles. “What an A-hole .”
Lauren nodded. “Yup. You know the worst part? She’d only just signed up to Shiftr .”
Frankie’s frown deepened. “He was a shifter?” He bristled. “No shifter I know would break up with a woman once he said he loved her .”
Lauren pretended to flinch at the loudness of his voice. “No, he’s human, I think. They just happened to meet and start dating right after she signed up to the app .”
“Well, there you go. That explains it.” Frankie didn’t have a great opinion of human men in general. They were weak, and he’d observed they often didn’t treat their women right .
“So she’s embarrassed for her friends to know she’s single. Maybe she has an event to attend or something,” Lauren mused. “I think you should do it, Frankie-bear. It’s not going to kill you, is it ?”
Frankie threw her a look of disapproval. “No, you know how I feel about lying .”
“I sure do.” She grinned at him, and he knew she was mocking him gently. “But didn’t you just work on Selma’s garden even though you’re not a gardener ?”
“Yup. But the difference is, I didn’t go announce to her neighbors that I was a gardener .”
Connor cocked an eyebrow. “So if Mrs. Scuttlebutt next door sticks her head over the fence and asks if you’re the gardener, you’d say ‘No, ma’am, I’m a carpenter by trade, but I just happen to be working as a gardener right this moment.” Or you’d say, ‘Yes, ma’am,’ just to get rid of her ?”
“I might,” Frankie replied testily. “It depends .”
“Maybe it would help if you thought of yourself as an actor instead of a liar?” Lauren said .
Frankie stayed silent, thoughts brewing. He was aware that his obsession with telling the truth could make him a little pedantic sometimes .
“I think you should help her out. She’s a good girl, and she got royally screwed over by that guy,” Lauren continued .
“I don’t know. It just doesn’t sit right with me,” he said. He was silent for a while, staring up into the canopy of trees that fronted the cabins. Then he let off a frustrated rumble. “But I guess I can go back and finish the work on her garden .”
“Atta boy,” Connor said, slapping him on the thigh. He raised his voice so Willow could hear, too. “Now, who’s for a swim in the lake ?”
“Me!” she yelled, raising her hand .
“I’ll come as well,” Lauren said, and Connor’s eyes lit up. Frankie looked at them with affection. They were the definition of a loving couple. Many moons ago in their teens, he and Lauren had dated, and he’d messed it up in the worst way possible. But now she was with his older brother, and he was glad because Connor was perfect for her. He was happy for them, and not at all jealous of their relationship, but sometimes when he saw them interacting with each other, he got a feeling, deep in his gut, like a physical pain. He called it loneliness because he didn’t know what else to call it .
After Lauren scooped up Willow and took them inside to get ready, Connor let out a deep roar that echoed around the cabins, calling the bears together. Niall and Ryzard turned up, but the rest of them were still out at work. Then the four clan members shifted into their bear forms. A couple of minutes later, Lauren and Willow arrived in their swimsuits and scrambled onto Connor’s broad brown back. Then they began to make the half-hour journey deep into the forest to the freshwater lake where they often swam and caught fish .
* * *
B y the time Frankie returned from the lake, his belly full of fresh fish, Selma had already messaged him twice, apologizing, and asking him if he could Please, please, come back and work on the gazebo . She promised she wouldn’t take photos of him or ask him to pretend to be her boyfriend again, and it was all accompanied by various emoticons that didn’t really make any sense—a deer, a flower, a sweet potato, some musical notes, and a smiley face with a halo on top. He couldn’t help smiling. Maybe he did need to lighten up a bit .
He sent her a reply: Ok, I’ll finish the gazebo, but that’s all. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow . He couldn’t help smiling at the stream of unicorns, chickens and four-leaf clovers that she sent to him in return .
T he next morning, he dressed in a pair of cut-off combat pants, a fresh, plain gray T-shirt, and his work boots, then drove to Selma’s place .
He usually went through the side entrance that led directly into the garden, but she was waiting for him at the front door. She was wearing a tight red top tucked into a loose skirt with red and white vertical stripes. It looked nice, showing off her nipped-in waist and large breasts. “Hey, Frankie! Come inside,” she called. As he came closer, he saw she was wearing red lipstick, which made her full lips look even fuller and, against his will, his cock twitched .
He removed his boots and followed her into the house where a smell of fresh baking hit his nostrils. In the kitchen, a heaped plate of fresh blueberry muffins sat in the middle of the table, accompanied by a pot of coffee .
She looked at him, hands twisting and eyes very wide. She sure looked pretty today. Bad images ran through his mind of sliding his hands up that skirt, of pulling her onto his lap and burying his face in the inch of cleavage that showed above the rounded neckline of her top. “You remind me of the circus,” he said without thinking .
Her face crumpled. “That’s because I look like I’m wearing a circus tent, don’t I? That’s what Bert used to say .”
“I-I meant it in a good way,” he stammered, regretting his words. “You look real nice .”
“You mean that ?”
He nodded and liked the way her eyes immediately lit up .
“I like it, too. It’s called a swing skirt from the nineteen-fifties, which is my favorite era for clothes .
“Why do you like to dress like you’re from another time ?”
She shrugged. “My mom says it’s about escapism. I don’t want to confront who am I in the world today. But mainly I think it’s real feminine, more exciting than the styles nowadays .”
“Is that why you do your hair like that?” He took a step closer, examining her hairstyle. Yesterday, her hair had been in loose, natural curls, hanging halfway down her back. Today the front part was in two big, smooth curls that looked liked they’d been molded, while the back was in a small bun. Without thinking, he reached out and touched the curls. They were stiff and brittle, and his hand shot back again .
She giggled. “I have to sleep in curlers, then I pin them and fix them with hairspray. It’s a lot of effort, but I like it. I do it when I need a pick-me-up .”
“I like your style,” he said, still not fully getting it, but appreciating that it meant something to her .
“Anyway, I made you these muffins to say sorry for yesterday and thank you for coming back here. I know you must think I’m a lunatic.” She indicated one of the chairs, and he sat down .
“I’m sorry if I was a little harsh yesterday,” he said .
She shrugged. “I don’t blame you. I had no right to take your photos without your permission and make you a part of my crazy scheme.” She poured two cups of coffee and pushed the muffin plate toward him. He took one eagerly, and she took one as well .
“I kind of understand where you’re coming from,” he said .
“You do?” Her big eyes were rounder than ever .
“You’re friends with someone called Kenzie, right ?”
“Yes! We go to quilting class together. Do you know her ?”
“No, but I know Lauren well.” He bit into the muffin. It was delicious, and he told her so .
“Thanks.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Are you a—?” She trailed off .
“Yup, I’m a bear. Didn’t you know ?”
“No. But to be honest, I had a feeling about you .”
He crooked an eyebrow. “What kind of feeling ?”
Her cheeks went adorably pink. “I don’t know. It was a silly thing to say.” She propped her chin on her hand. “I felt like you were a good guy. And Kenzie and Lauren have been telling me how awesome shifters are. That’s why I signed up to the shifter dating app .”
“But you didn’t date a shifter ?”
She sighed. “No. I met Bert when his company and my company had a team-building day at the same venue. Things didn’t work out between us though. Obviously .”
“He sounds like a douche .”
“How come ?”
“You seem like a cool person, so he must be to have broken up with you,” he said quickly, not wanting her to know what Lauren had told him .
A smile lit her face. He was touched again by the sweet, unaffected way she reacted to compliments. But then she frowned and fiddled with the empty muffin case, folding it into ever smaller triangles. “I want to say he broke my heart. That’s not true, though. Because I knew deep down he wasn’t right for me. But he kind of bowled me over with the promises he was making to me, and everything happened so fast. I started telling everyone how great he was, about all these romantic plans he was making for us, and then he broke up with me, right when we were supposed to be having our first weekend away together. I felt like such a fool. And when I got back to work, everyone was asking how it went. I couldn’t tell them that he dumped me so I just kind of pretended I had a great time. And then it snowballed into this ridiculous situation.” When her eyes briefly met his, he saw they were shining with unshed tears, and it got him, like a fist in the gut .
“And now I’ve got an engagement party to go to, and everyone’s so excited to meet him. I’m going to have to make up some stupid excuse about why he can’t make it .”
“I’ll go with you,” Frankie said. Then he froze, and so did she. He didn’t know who was more shocked .
“What?” she muttered, her red lips pursing .
He cleared his throat, aware that his heart was beating faster than usual. “I said I’ll go with you to the engagement party. And you can put a photo of me on your desk at work if you want .”
“You don’t mean that .”
He gave a strained laugh. “Of course, I do. I never say anything I don’t mean .”
Her cheeks got very pink. She lifted her coffee mug in both hands and raised it to her lips, hiding her face in it .
“Selma?”
She put the mug down again. “But why? Yesterday you were so opposed to the idea ?”
He leaned back in his chair, searching for the words he needed. “Let’s just say I’ve loosened up a little in the past twenty-four hours. You seem like someone who’s been through a rough time, and I want to help you out .”
Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked rapidly, then she nodded. “Okay. I mean, yes please, I accept your offer. What’s your rate ?”
He waved his hand. “You don’t need to pay me .”
“No.” She shook her head. “I sure appreciate you doing this for me, Frankie. But I don’t expect a favor. If you’re going to be my stand-in boyfriend, then I’m going to pay you for your time .”
He shrugged. “If you insist. You can pay me the same rate you’re paying me for the gazebo. And a dollar per photo .”
Her face lit up in a dazzling grin. “Okay. Deal.” When she held her right hand out, he shook it, struck by how small and soft it was. She picked up her phone and tilted her head to one side. “I’ve gotta run to work in a second, but would you mind if I snap a photo now? The girls keep giving me such a hard time for not showing them a photo of my boyfriend. They’ve even bought me a frame and left it on my desk …”
He swallowed hard. “Sure .”
“Great!” She held up the phone, looking at the camera’s viewfinder and turning around slowly. “Okay, the light’s best here.” She stood in front of the frosted glass panel in the garden door .
He got to his feet, heavy with reluctance, and stood beside her. Her small arm went around his waist, and gingerly, he laid his arm across her shoulder. His bear purred .
She started. “What was that ?”
“Oh, nothing. Just my bear grumbling about something or other .”
“It doesn’t like you touching me ?”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. It liked him touching her a lot. But that was the last thing he was about to tell her. “Let’s take this photo,” he said gruffly instead .
She moved the camera around, but didn’t seem to be satisfied with any of the angles. He picked up the smell of the hairspray she was using, and beneath that, the clean, sensual scent of her hair. He found himself longing to tug it loose, make it fall wild and free around her face. And his cock twitched again. Goddammit. Her proximity was driving his bear crazy. He snatched the phone from her hand. “Give it here.” He held it up high, higher than her small arms could reach, and angled the viewfinder toward their faces. “Is that okay ?”
“Perfect.”
As he fumbled for the photo button, she pursed her lips. Click . The photo was taken. She tried to snatch the phone, but he held it just out of reach .
“Let me see !”
He tapped on the thumbnail photo, making it fill the screen, and she burst out laughing. She was pouting provocatively, while Frankie’s expression was a hilarious combination of confused and annoyed. She tried to grab at the phone again, but he kept it up high, and she jumped for it several times like an excitable Chihuahua. But with every jump, her breasts bounced against his chest distractingly .
Sighing, he tapped the trash button. “Selma, I’m not doing this if you don’t take it seriously. No porn star expressions. We’re just going to smile, real natural. Got it ?”
She folded her arms. “Spoilsport .”
“Last time I’m trying.” He angled the viewfinder again. She parted her lips in a very pretty smile, displaying her smallish, straight teeth, and he took the photo. “There. That’s better,” he said. He looked kind of serious, but it could’ve been worse. “I give you permission to put this on your desk .”
“Thanks, Frankie!” She went up on tiptoes, grabbed his shoulders, and before he knew it, she’d planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best. Okay, I’d better run. I’m pulling a twelve-hour shift today, so I won’t be done until ten p.m .
He frowned. “Where d’you even work ?”
“At PPQ Energy on their complaints team .”
He repressed a shudder. “Dang. That must be tough .”
Her forehead furrowed. “Why ?”
“Dealing with folks moaning and complaining all day long. It’d flip me out .”
She giggled. “I like it, most of the time. Sometimes I might take a call from a bad-tempered old git complaining about how his power’s been down for the last day, but I’ll look into the problem, come up with a solution, offer him some compensation, and by the end of the call, he’s singing my praises. Guess I like helping people. And customers never see me, so I get to wear stuff like this.” She glanced at her watch. “Shoot, I really am late now. Gotta run. You know where everything is. So long, honey.” She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter and spun back to face him, then winked. “Just kidding! Have a good day.” And she was gone .
Frankie groaned as he watched her retreating figure. “Figures she works for an energy company,” he muttered to himself. The woman was like a whirlwind. And what the hell had he gotten himself into ?
He shook his head at his impetuous decision, but for some reason, he couldn’t quit smiling as he went to his bag and pulled out the plans for the gazebo. There was something about Selma that reminded him of himself when he was young, before he was old enough to understand how messed up his parent’s relationship was. She made him feel alive, and like things didn’t always have to be so serious. And he was glad to be helping her out .
He sat down again at the table, drained his coffee in one gulp, poured another, and began to put together an estimate for the wood he needed to pick up from the lumberyard .