Nessa and the Bear (Bearly Yours #2)

Chapter 1

The word ‘werebear’ was so stupid.

Seriously. How could something so genuinely terrifying sound so completely ridiculous?

Werewolves? Spooky. Horrific. The kind of word that sent shivers down your spine. Considering Nessa Parker had found herself on the wrong end of such a creature a little over two months ago, she knew just how deadly they could be. There was a reason they were portrayed so often in horror films.

But werebears?

Lame.

Things that rhymed sounded infinitely less scary than things that didn’t.

A small smile danced on Nessa’s lips at the thought. Just as quickly, however, her smile faded, and an image flashed through her mind of a massive wolf standing over her broken and bleeding body, sharp, white teeth dripping crimson.

Her blood ran cold.

The beast lunged for her—

Nessa’s heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught in her throat as she flinched. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would keep out the memories threatening to overwhelm her. Even her shoulder throbbed, the scars that had recently healed a damning reminder of that night—

Stop thinking about it. It’s over. You’re fine. Jason is dead. He can’t hurt you.

Gripping the towel wrapped around her body tightly, she slowly forced herself to relax, one muscle at a time.

Standing in the hallway just outside of her bedroom, she focused on the breathing exercises she’d learned online a few years ago, letting out a long, slow exhale before dragging in a deep breath.

Expel the negative energy, she reminded herself, exhaling again. Purge it from your body, your mind, your soul.

Several minutes must have passed while she remained rooted in the same spot, but she refused to move until her pulse steadied.

Another minute of breathing slowly passed before she felt ready.

Prying her eyes open, Nessa walked the last few feet of the hall and into her bedroom, glancing warily around the room.

She wished she could say that being attacked by a werewolf for defending her pregnant friend, Hunny Russo—who she had later learned was a wererabbit, believe it or not—was the reason for her paranoia. But it wasn’t.

Okay, that was a lie. It wasn’t the reason for all of her paranoia. Lately, just most of it.

Who could blame her?

Werewolves, werebears, whatever—creatures that went bump in the night shouldn’t exist. Yet, they definitely did. Not only were supernatural beings out there, living among humans and disguising their true nature flawlessly, but she’d stumbled right into their midst.

It would have been hilarious if it wasn’t just another layer of crap piled onto the absolute shitshow that was her life. Didn’t the universe understand that she’d gone through enough over the last few years?

And now, just when Nessa had begun to settle down, when she had finally started to feel like she was safe enough to rebuild her life, to start fresh, she went and got herself mauled by a werewolf.

Three months ago, the only thing she’d worried about was whether her brother and his crew could track her down and drag her back to Chicago.

But now?

Every room she entered held a new, potential threat–a supernatural creature that could be lurking in the corner or hiding in the shadows, just waiting to pounce on her when she least expected it.

Nessa scowled down at her feet as a new thought intruded. Did werebears pounce?

She frowned, fed up with her train of thought. She constantly had werebears on the brain. Well, maybe not bears. It was specifically a hot, tall—and kind of an asshole—werebear.

Don’t open that door, she scolded herself. But it was too late; that door had been kicked down months ago, and she was fooling herself to think otherwise.

Murphy Sinclair was always on Nessa’s mind, which was weird, because the man—bear?—couldn’t stand her. Not that she could stand him either, a sentiment she’d felt before she knew about his Alpha or shifter status.

Once upon a time, she’d been drawn to powerful men. And an Alpha was apparently top dog—bear—whatever–among the shifter community.

Still, strong, masculine types had been her kryptonite. Now, however, she feared them. So why was it impossible to purge this one from her mind? It would be so simple if she could just forget about his existence entirely. Unfortunately, she didn’t think that was going to happen anytime soon.

Ugh!

It would be one thing if Nessa actually liked Murphy—then her obsessive behavior would make sense. But she didn’t like him. There was no way she did. He was just so … serious and cranky, and she was the total opposite. They were two opposing forces, destined to butt heads at every encounter.

Last time she’d seen him, she’d been lying in a pool of her own blood. Jason, the dickhead werewolf who’d attacked them, had just savagely ripped her open, and Murphy had intervened.

He’d saved her life.

And how had she repaid that? Hysterically. She’d screamed at him. She’d called him a monster. And when he’d tried to keep her from bleeding out, she’d recoiled from his touch like she thought he’d finish the job.

Granted, she had just watched him murder someone and then shapeshift from a freaking grizzly bear and into a man.

A very rugged, handsome, and naked man, for that matter, but still …

Anyone who’d witnessed something similar probably would have reacted the same way, though, right? Of course, they would have.

Then why do I feel so guilty?

Because Murphy had looked so distraught, so helpless as he’d watched lying there, wounded.

His expression had seemed so haunted, like someone he cared for dearly was dying and he was powerless to save them.

No one had ever looked at her like that before; with such regret for her pain and so much longing, and the memory had stuck with her.

What was even crazier about that night, if such a thing were possible, was that she distinctly remembered hearing Murphy call her ‘mate.’

Mate!

She wasn’t a supernatural expert, but she’d read enough paranormal romance books to know what the hell that meant. Then again, was any of that even real or was it all fantasized?

She almost laughed out loud. Her entire life right now was beyond belief; why should the books not be based on fact?

Suddenly, her heart clenched painfully in her chest, just like it did each time she thought about that moment. It was as if her body was in agreement with his confession. But how was that even possible? She was a human. It wasn’t like she’d feel a connection between them, even if they were mates.

Could they be mates?

She doubted it.

Right, she thought sarcastically. You just think about Murphy all day long, dream about him. When you wake up, he’s the first thing you think about, for some bizarre reason. Not to mention, he’s the only man you’ve felt attracted to since—

Nessa cut that thought off abruptly. The last thing she wanted to do was think about Tony and what happened back in Chicago.

But she couldn’t deny the truth; she’d instantly found Murphy attractive from the first time she’d laid eyes on him, which was both alarming and extremely inconvenient for a variety of reasons.

The most prominent reason being that she’d sworn off relationships in general, and men in particular, after she’d run away from her problems a few years ago.

Tony, the last man she’d been romantically involved with, had become a monster in his own right over time, and he had taken out his darkness on her. Physically and emotionally. Any way he could tear her down, he had done so. He’d made her despise everything: sex, love, herself.

When she’d finally escaped that life, she’d been more than willing to forsake men forever.

And until Murphy—an extremely tall, well-built and well-dressed man with smoldering brown eyes; short, dark hair; a chiseled jawline; and a five-o’clock shadow—had wandered into her teahouse nearly three months ago for a meeting, it had been easy enough to accomplish.

Unfortunately, one look at the man and her body had flared to life. The cobwebs lurking inside her vagina had burst into flames, disintegrating on the spot, leaving her hot and definitely bothered.

Her traitorous body hadn’t even cared that her first interaction with Murphy had not gone well. Actually, he’d been a complete jerk.

First, he’d scared her, and then he’d gotten ridiculously territorial when one of the men he’d set up the meeting with had become a little too interested in her. Why she had even found him remotely attractive after that was beyond her.

But Murphy’s territorial behavior made sense now, if the whole ‘mates’ thing was true. Unless that word meant something completely different to supernatural creatures in real life than it did in the books. Maybe supes all originated from Australia, and it simply meant ‘human friend.’

That was plausible, right?

Nessa probably should have asked for some clarification on that at some point after Murphy’s declaration. But when she’d woken up in the clinic on his property, he’d been gone. The only trace of him left behind was the scent of his cologne, which now seemed to haunt her every waking moment.

It was like he’d spritzed his signature fragrance—pine, sandalwood and some kind of light, sweet flower—right under her nose when he’d met her and it had somehow seeped into her pores, where it had lingered since. Kind of weird, right?

Not if they were mates, though.

Nessa sighed.

Why did she keep thinking about this over and over? It didn’t matter. Whatever connection she and Murphy shared—if they did share anything—he clearly didn’t want to explore it. Would she even want to, either, given an option? It all sounded so crazy!