Bear’s Fake Bride Page 2

  “I had to get away,” he said. “And you?” Holly twirled her ponytail around her fingers and shrugged.

  “Pretty much same,” she answered. “So who are you escaping? Kids? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Pet dogs who’ve turned against you?” He shook his head and took a long swig of beer.

  “Mother, actually,” he said. “I still live in my hometown. She’s got some nonsense in her head about the family legacy lately. Grandkids, etcetera.” At this, Holly perked up.

  “Shut up!” she cried. “I’m escaping my father. He brought me here to matchmake. It’s kind of a big deal in my family, but I don’t want anything to do with it. So I slipped out to get drunk.”

  Rowan raised his beer for a clink.

  “I can get behind that,” he said.

  2

  Holly

  She was attracted to Rowan, she was pretty sure, but also just drawn to his energy. He seemed so shy… like he wasn’t used to meeting women in bars. Making friends in bars, even. Besides, Holly had had to get away from her dad. The big meeting was set up for tomorrow, and Eric, her father, had locked himself away in his hotel room to watch sports and, Holly assumed, get away from his daughter.

  “So,” she said, “shall we get something stronger, if we’re getting drunk to forget family drama?”

  Rowan nodded, but then he leaned across the table. His eyes were narrowed. He held the back of his palm to the back of hers. There was an unmistakable wave of energy in the small touch.

  “I knew it!” he said, lowering his voice. “What are you? Not a bear, right?”

  Holly wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. “Uh,” she managed, “no…”

  “You’re West Coast? Wolf, then?” Holly nodded. For the first time that evening, she was the one on the backfoot. Rowan laughed. “Fate again! What’s the likelihood of walking into a bar like this and finding another shifter!”

  “Okay!” Holly hissed. “Keep your voice down, Rowan.”

  “What?” Rowan scoffed. “Like these humans even know what that means!” But Holly gave him a look that seemed to be causing him almost physical pain. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “Don’t you think it’s weird, though?”

  “Maybe,” Holly said, shrugging. “I don’t know. You’re ursine?”

  Rowan looked at her quizzically. “If you lupines still talk as though it’s three-hundred years ago, then yeah.”

  Holly was ripping the label off her beer again.

  “Right,” she said. “Guess we do. Shit, my dad would be so mad I’m talking to you. Which, actually, is just what I want at the moment, so maybe this is triple fate, or whatever number we’re up to.”

  “Maybe,” Rowan said. “Wait, why would he be so mad? We have a bunch of pacts and trade deals with the Canadian wolf packs.”

  “Oof.” Holly puffed out her cheeks. “The Washington wolves don’t like anyone else. We’re supposed to have a pure bloodline. It’s very important to my family. To everyone’s family. And the passing on of our land to pure offspring. It’s why I’m here, actually.”

  From the bar, the bartender signaled. He held up two fingers. Rowan nodded, and Holly saw the other man give a quick thumbs up. She shook her head.

  “Did you tell that bartender you’re here to pull?”

  “No!” Rowan sounded genuinely offended. “He just… made his assumptions. And he gave me free tequila.”

  “Ah,” Holly said. “Exchanging my dignity for cheap tequila. Wouldn’t be the first time. But usually, it’s me doing it.” She knew this would push Rowan’s buttons, and he looked a little upset, trying to find words. She laughed and put him out of his misery. “Wow, Rowan, I’m kidding around! It’s fine.”

  “I know,” Rowan said, shifting in his seat. “You’re just… hard to read.”

  “Yeah,” Holly agreed. “Well, I’m probably not at my best.”

  “The mysterious details of this visit?” Rowan guessed. She knew he wanted to know, and she had no one else to talk to about it. So she just went for it. Head on. Classic ‘you don’t think about the impact of your decisions’ Holly.

  “I’m here to meet my future husband,” she said. “Excellent blood, I hear.”

  “Meet him like… meet him how?”

  “My dear father arranged it,” Holly explained, crossing her arms. She both wanted to tell this stranger everything and keep it all to herself forever at the same time. Maybe find a pit to bury herself alive in.

  There was just enough of a strange connection between her and Rowan for Holly to trust him. Or maybe the trust was because she didn’t know him at all. He was leaning forward a little, looked genuinely concerned.

  “Urgh. We came to stay in a hotel in the city center,” she began. “The guy… Daniel is his name, he’s the son of a pack leader. One of the four packs who apparently carry the original lupine shifter bloodline. First bitten, or something. It makes no sense, and it’s frankly pretty incestuous even if it’s true. We also all happen to be based on land that some of our most useful medical and magical herbs grow on and that are really well located. So I guess I’m going to marry my cousin and be his wolf queen!”

  “Oh, wow.” Rowan was laughing. “I’m sorry, that’s terrible. It’s just… that’s really happening? They’re making you do that?”

  Feeling a little sulky about the laughter, Holly nodded. “Yup.”

  “Are you meeting at midnight under a yew tree?”

  “Shut up!” She laughed as well. “As if you bears don’t have your own strange traditions! I mean, I don’t know them, we keep pure, obviously, but there’s gotta be a bunch. And we’re meeting for brunch tomorrow, actually. Chaperoned, of course.”

  “Is it all right if I find that funnier than midnight under a yew tree?” Rowan asked. Then he said, “We wait for imprinting, and then we have a whole ceremony with a witch binding us. It’s very romantic, but packs are kinda far flung. My mother is getting impatient. My dad’s dead, and she’s getting on. Pestering me to find the one, but how am I supposed to make that happen?”

  Holly shrugged. “I don’t know, pretend? I’m hoping this Daniel guy is cool, and we can just go through the motions. Though knowing his pack, I doubt it. Uppity, to say the least. Sorry about your dad, by the way.”

  Across the table, Rowan smiled.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “It was long time ago.” He brought his palms down flat on the table. “Right!” he said. “Let’s go and have an adventure.”

  Holly jumped at the slapped palms. “Jeez! Calm it!”

  “No!” Rowan jumped up and slipped out from the booth. “It’s your last night of freedom, and I’m on borrowed time. Let’s dance. And then… well, maybe we’ll come up with a cunning plan to save ourselves.”

  Holly couldn’t help but laugh. He was childlike when he was this enthusiastic. His grin lit up his whole dumb face. She put out a hand and let him pull her out the booth.

  Once they were outside, in the drizzly dark, Holly asked, “Where are we going?”

  “How would I know?” Rowan replied. “I just got here.” Holly scoffed.

  “So, you need me to plan our adventure?” she asked, but she didn’t mind. It was sweet of him to be trying to distract her like this, since they had just met.

  “Guess so,” Rowan said, fiddling with his rain jacket.

  Holly took over, doing up his zip and pulling his hood over his head. “Come on Alaska, can’t handle outdoors wear?”

  “I have wet hands!” Rowan protested. “I’m used to numb hands, not damp hands.” Holly pretended not to hear him.

  “Follow me!” she called, already taking off at a slowish jog, enjoying the damp air on her face. Running through the dark was good for the soul, she thought, especially after a couple of beers.

  “Hold up!” Rowan called behind her. She looked over her shoulder. Clearly her taking off had been a surprise to him, and he’d taken a few moments to give chase.

  “You’re no fun,” she said, slowing down.

  �
��You may be right.” Rowan caught up, slightly puffed out from running faster than her. “Where are we going?”

  “To dance!” Holly said. “Where do you think rural wolf shifters come to party? I know a place!”

  3

  Rowan

  The club was small and smoky, and it was Disco Night. Five dollars in, ‘X’s scrawled on the backs of their hands, and Holly was dragging Rowan by the lapels to the dance floor.

  “I’m a terrible dancer!” he tried shouting at her, but she shook her head and made ‘can’t hear you’ gestures. He suspected she could hear him. She closed her eyes, throwing herself with an abandon that had very little to do with the tempo or rhythm of the music. Rowan didn’t know whether she was just doing it to make him feel better about dancing himself, but he didn’t care either way, really. He began to throw himself about, too. It wasn’t long before both of them were creased up with laughter.

  “Drink?” Rowan shouted in Holly’s ear, and she gave him a thumbs up. The bar was crowded, of course, and it took him time to fight through. Then he realized he didn’t know what she wanted; no one wanted to drink beer while they danced. He settled on two gin and tonics and took a good thirty seconds trying to communicate this to the girl behind the bar.

  Getting back to Holly with two full glasses was a challenge, and so was finding her. Eventually, after scanning the small dancefloor a couple of times, he located her small, adorably awkward figure dancing with a tall guy with a topknot.

  For a moment, Rowan was annoyed—this was their adventure—but he pushed the thought away. This might really be the last night Holly got to live her own life. He also pushed away the tumult of anger he felt at that. Despite only knowing the woman a couple of hours, his stomach tightened at the idea of her being forced into anything… it hardly seemed possible she could be, she was such a force of nature!

  Rowan elbowed his way toward her. He elbowed her, too, as he had no hands free, and she turned toward him, flushed, strands of hair escaping her ponytail. She smiled widely. She took her drink and then took him in a one-armed hug.

  “Thank you for the drink!” she said into his ear. Half-shouted, rather. “This is…” She turned to topknot. “Wait,” she laughed, “what was your name?” The tall man had to lean down.

  “What?” he shouted.

  “NAME!” Holly hollered at the top of her voice. He almost jumped back.

  “Jesus, woman,” he said. “Stuart.” Totally composed, Holly turned to Rowan.

  “Rowan, Stuart. Stuart, Rowan.” Rowan started laughing again, trying to hold his drink steady. Holly made a ‘shhh’ motion, raised her eyebrows, and went back to dancing with Stuart, who was occasionally shooting Rowan daggers.

  Rowan was looking around the dancefloor, doing his usual semi-enthusiastic sway and hoping to catch an eye. Holly was odd, but she had an energy he found infectious. He was worried if she started a cult or something, he’d end up high priest.

  In the corner was a blonde girl who looked as awkward as he felt. Rowan was just beginning to move toward her at his usual slow pace when a hand grabbed his elbow. He turned. It was Holly, of course. She pulled him to her.

  “He grabbed my butt, and it was gross,” she said. She threw back her drink. “Tequila! You had tequila earlier, let’s have more!” And she dragged him toward the bar. Somehow, despite her stature, Holly got served immediately and handed him a shot. Rowan threw it back and made a face.

  “That is bad tequila.” Holly nodded.

  “Yup,” she said. “Shall we get out of here?”

  Rowan couldn’t keep up with her! But he wanted to try, for some reason. He nodded.

  “Yeah,” he said. Holly took her shot.

  “Urgh, you were not kidding,” she said, grabbing his hand and dragged him along again. “Coat check!” she called.

  Outside, it was getting a little chilly. They leaned against the front of the building, their breath just visible in the air.

  “This is warm for you, I guess?” Holly asked him.

  Ronan shrugged. “Sort of.”

  “Let’s walk!” she said. “I’m getting cold standing still, even if you’re fine, Alaska.”

  And so they walked, mostly in silence. Holly led him toward the river, circumnavigating the warehouses that were mostly now apartments and actually reaching the waterfront.

  “I like the river at night,” she said. “All the reflections and the quiet.” Rowan nodded.

  “Doesn’t smell great, though.” Holly elbowed him.

  “I see,” she said, “you’re a negative Nelly. Like to ruin things, huh?”

  Rowan smiled to himself. His whole damn life was being the sensible one these days. But it was fun to pretend otherwise.

  “Excuse me,” he said, “I would have stayed dancing all night.”

  “Yeah, right,” Holly scoffed. They were both facing the river, but Rowan could hear the grin in her voice. “You could barely wiggle your shoulders without following my lead.”

  “Okay, I can see how you would get the impression I was uncomfortable, but I like to wiggle. I would have stayed out wiggling all night.”

  Holly laughed and leaned her chin in her hands, elbows on the railing. “Men ruin everything, even a nice dance with a friend.”

  Rowan could have been hurt by her referring to him as ‘friend,’ but no, he felt comfortable with Holly. He liked being around her and her energy.

  “I can only apologize for my kind,” he said. She looked at him, lay a hand on his chest, and played with his buttons.

  “There are exceptions, I suppose,” she said, “but I’m sure you’re terribly irritating sometimes.” She drew her hand away. “Right now, you’re terribly sweaty!”

  “It’s raining!” Rowan argued.

  “That special rain inside your shirt,” Holly said.

  “Right… that special rain that I get drenched in when I shimmy and shake.” Rowan wiggled his shoulders and did… something with his hips he was pretty sure he had never done before. Holly closed her eyes and grimaced.

  “That’s why you’re single,” she groaned. “I’m telling your mother. Dance classes, stat! You’ll be wed in no time.” Rowan stopped his silly dance.

  “Bonded,” he said. “Remember, the witch and the ceremony. Think my one and only mate saw me dance and ran off?”

  “I’m sorry,” Holly said. “I forgot. I was trying to make tonight normal for me and forgot you’re in a similar boat.”

  Rowan shrugged. “It’s okay. It’s just… it makes my mom worry about death all the time. ‘I want to see my grandchildren,’ ‘I want to leave knowing you’re happy,’ and legacy, and blah, blah.”

  He really, really didn’t want to talk about being an alpha right now. He knew Holly would ask questions about all that responsibility, and he was here to get away from it. And from the pressure to find a mate, create an heir…

  Impulsively, to change the subject, he said, “Hey, we’re really close to where I’m staying. Do you want to come up? There’s beer.”

  Holly grinned, raising her eyebrows, “Oh, Rowan, you’re inviting me up, but we barely know one another… I couldn’t be your one and only…”

  Though he knew by now that Holly was absolutely messing with him, Rowan blushed. He playfully pushed her on the shoulder.

  “Shut up,” he said. “Are you coming?”

  He started walking, and Holly followed, almost skipping, with an, “Of course, Romeo.”

  It was only getting into the building that it occured to Rowan to clarify something. He turned, just as he was in the doorway, so that they were somehow both trapped there, chest to chest, and Holly was looking up at him with her big green eyes, that little heart-shaped face.

  “I’m not a virgin!” he said. “I mean, we wait for the right person to bond with, but—”

  Holly’s eyes were catching the orange of the streetlights and turning gold. “But you do sleep around? That’s a relief. Never trust a hundred… how old are you?”
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  Slipping into the hallway, Rowan said, “Hundred and ninety-seven.”

  “Exactly.” Holly followed him. “Never trust a hundred-and-ninety-seven-year-old virgin. Assume you waited until at least the big one-fifty, though? You don’t strike me as a total harlot.”

  4

  Holly

  “Whose place is this?” Holly asked as she entered the huge studio apartment. It was much more minimalist than she would expect from Rowan, much more Seattle yuppy.

  “Internet,” Rowan said, opening the fridge and pulling out two beers. Holly took off her wet coat and unwound her wet scarf. Everywhere looked too nice to dump them, so she hung them on the back of a chair that looked to me made of moulded plastic and flopped down on the sofa.

  “Ah!” she said. “The internet. Remember the days of buses and boarding houses…”

  Rowan handed Holly her beer. “Were you allowed out alone then?”

  Holly shook her head. “In pairs, sometimes, when I was at the women’s college. Damn, life is better now. Girls can drink beer!” She took a swig. “Oof, craft beer, too, how hoppy is that?”

  Rowan shrugged. “They were here when I arrived. As bougie as the rest of the place.”

  “Right?!” Leaning back on the sofa, Holly was getting sleepy. “I wonder where brunch will be tomorrow,” she said, musing more to herself than Rowan. “Probably some tea room. With napkin rings.” Rowan sat down next to her.

  “I’m sorry you have to do this,” he said.

  Holly put a hand on his knee and patted it. She felt as though she’d known him forever. It was strange—she trusted him so completely, and she never trusted anyone.

  “Not your fault, Ro-ro.”