Bear King's Curves: A BBW Werebear Shifter Romance by A.T. Mitchell

Author:A.T. Mitchell [Mitchell, A.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Ice Press
Published: 2014-02-06T05:00:00+00:00

“Sir? You ready for a chat?” Nick stood next to me.

“I told you once, young man. Call me Tuts. And yes, I am.” The old Indian man smiled behind the counter.

It was late, about an hour after dinnertime. Not that it mattered much because there was exactly one other couple staying at the lodge who we'd seen.

Tuts walked into the backroom and spoke in a language I couldn't understand to the young woman there.

“You sure about this?” I asked, looking up at my man.

“Completely. I have to find out what he knows. He agreed to talk to us.”

“Us?”

“I told him about your interest in local history. I want you there, Lyla. If anyone deserves to be at my side, it's you. Bears never forget anyone who shares their sorrows.”

He took my hand. His fingers were warm and tight, but his pulse was steady and peaceful.

“It's just...this thing.” I shifted my free arm, shuffling the heavy round artifact I held there. “How could he possibly know anything about it? You sure we're showing this to the right person?”

Nick's face tightened. Neither of us liked it when I doubted him.

“I never told him what we had. Hell, neither of us really know what it is either, except that it must be valuable. I doubt he'll have much to add, but it won't hurt to try. It's not like I'm gonna let some old man overpower me and steal that thing again.”

Well, there was no arguing with that. Tuts returned to the desk a second later, the young woman around my age in tow.

“My granddaughter will take over. Let's go. Right down the hall on this floor, second room on the right.”

He walked fast and steady for someone who had to be at least eighty years old. We followed.

The old man's private room looked like a museum. We sat around a glass table, flanked on all sides by animal bones, dark stones, dream catchers, and thick quilts on the walls glowing with all the vibrant hues of the American West.

“Let's get down to business.” Nick's voice was dark and curious. “I want to know who the hell you are, and how you seem to know what's going on with us.”

Tuts laughed. At last, he showed a small sign of his age – what few teeth he had were whittled down to tiny stumps.

“I'd know a bear from a mile away.” Tuts paused, giving us plenty of time to stare with dumb interest. “You've come to escape something terrible. I am only trying to help. You too, young lady.”

His deep, dark brown eyes fell on me. I shifted uncomfortably across the table, managing a weak nod.

“I saw the pictures,” Nick said. “You must be over a hundred years old. Or else you look exactly like the last guy who ran this place. Which is it?”

“Right the first time. It was the old Montana Clan who taught me the secrets to long life.” He reached for a thermos on the edge of the table and poured himself a dark green tea, indulging a long sip.

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