Chapter One
Bear shifters maketerrible boyfriends.
Allie Rowe tossed her cell phone on the counter and put her head on her outstretched arms. She was two seconds from combusting over stress and leave it to her ex, Blake—the cockiest bear shifter in Colorado—to send her a passive-aggressive,I understand you’re busy again, but it makes me angry when you don’t respond to my messages, text. She was about to text back a picture of her sparkly, purple, rabbit-eared vibrator, lovingly named “The Rock” Johnson, with a comment that size did, indeed, matter.
Blake and his tiny cock could fuck off. She was over him. He’d rejected her after claiming she was his fated mate. Stupidly, she’d believed his bullshit until he tossed her aside like she was nothing.
She wouldn’t put it past him to have something to do with the pair of drunk raccoons that turned her beloved Sticky Sweet Bakery into a rave two nights ago. She’d come in at four a.m. to start baking and found shredded curtains, claw marks in the wallpaper, the coffee bar destroyed, and condiment wrappers scattered everywhere. The furry assholes must have eaten the sugar packets and creamer tubs in a munchie frenzy. They’d chewed on trim and baseboard, gnawed holes in the wall and dumped all three bistro tables onto their sides.
And that was just the customer area of the bakery. The kitchen hadn’t fared much better with bowls and trays and cooking utensils dumped on the floor. Who knew raccoons under the influence could eat their way through a plastic bakery tub to consume five dozen chocolate chip cookies, and somehow manage to get into the ceiling tiles, pop them out of the frame and leave gaping holes?
Her pretty pink and yellow store, with gingham curtains and original, hand-carved, white-washed wood trim, and original brick floor looked like someone had taken an ax to it. The damage was more than she could fix on her own. The décor and cosmetics, she could remedy. But the trim, ceiling, and damage to the walls would require a professional; one she couldn’t afford. She’d already had a small electrical fire that jacked her business insurance rates. Add in this claim, and the premium would probably put her out of business.
Allie groaned. She was so screwed.
The bank notice she’d gotten today solidified that. The interest on her business loan was about to balloon well above what she was budgeted for. Ah, hell. It was all more to add to the Loser Allie List anyway. No matter how hard she tried, there was always another failure to add to the never-ending list of reasons why she couldn’t get her life together. The scariest thing at the moment?
She was broke. And insurance would only cover a portion of the bakery damage, after she met her huge deductible. She was going to lose her bakery if she didn’t do something fast. Her phone buzzed, drawing her attention. Dragging herself upright, Allie read the screen.You need to make time for me, Allie. Tell me when we can meet and talk.
She deleted the message, impressed that she could move her finger that fast. The more she indulged Blake, the more he’d bug her. In the six months since they’d been broken up, she found that ignoring him made him go away faster. She had no interest in knowing why he wanted to talk. He lived in another town now and was blessedly out of her life. He was a class-A loser, but she supposed that’s what she got for rushing into a relationship with him. Everything about their romance had gone way too fast, and she’d allowed it because she was tired of being alone. What a mistake.
She wanted a partner, a wedding, a family of her own. All of that. But not with Blake. He’d waited until the newness of their relationship had worn off to show his true rude, temperamental, selfish personality. Not only was he an asshole, he was a terrible lover with a baby-size dick—strange for a bear shifter. She’d always imagined them hung like the proverbial horse. Worse than his unfortunate dick size was his unwillingness to do anything to please her in lieu of it. She’d faked more orgasms with Blake than Donald Trump did tans.
She blew a stray curl out of her eyes and groaned again.
Allie wiggled her left ring finger. It was naked for a reason. Many reasons if you asked Blake. He was never shy about reminding her of her shortcomings, hence the impetus for her stupid, self-depreciating list: She worked too much. She was too opinionated. She had too much debt and not enough savings. She wasn’t punctual enough. She always needed help with something. She wore ugly shoes. And now, she had a ruined business.
No wonder he’d publicly and very loudly rejected her at the wedding of a mutual friend. What a better place to dump someone, right?
Enough of this!Allie slipped an old apron over her head. There was too much work to be done to wallow. The bakery was closed until the end of the week so she could get some basic repairs made; hopefully enough to reopen for business until the rest could be fixed. She’d drawn a cutsie sign on the chalkboard stand outside by the door explaining the bakery had suffered some damage and wasn’t offering treats, but customers could step in for free coffee. It was the least she could do for her loyal customers.
Bells chimed above the front door as it opened and let in a waft of warm, June breeze.
“Here’s a frozen coffee thing with extra, why-even-bother, low-fat, non-dairy whip cream for you, Allie-bear.”
Her dad, Benjamin, pushed the service door open with his hip so he could walk through, and set a tall paper cup on the glass counter for her. “Contractor will be here soon.” His face scrunched as he motioned to the empty bakery cases below. “I can hardly stand not seeing yummy stuff in there.”
Allie gave a sad nod of agreement. This was the first time the bakery had unexpectedly closed in three years. “I’m going to be up three days straight to get merchandise made... wait, did you saycontractor?”
“Yep.” Ben took a drink of his coffee. “Came highly recommended. He’s one of them bear shifters, so you know he’ll be a good worker.”
Allie shifted her weight in annoyance. Since her dad had retired from his teaching job at the local high school, he’d had his hands way too deep in her business. Literally and figuratively. He knew damn well that she was calling around to find a qualified contractor... okay, maybe she was stalling to avoid the high cost. But a bear-shifter? Please. Yes, they had reputations as excellent, moral businessmen. But her dad knew how Blake could get and why Allie shied away from shifters.
She wanted to speak her mind but tempered herself. He was, as usual, just trying to help.
“Dad, we talked about this.”
“You’ve worked too hard to let –” His attention diverted to the large front window facing the street. Something had caught his eye outside. His complexion paled, his upper lip curling in distaste. “I’m disappearing now, and I was never here. Ok?”
She whipped him a look as he slinked into the back, turning to wink at her before he disappeared beyond the double kitchen doors. Curious what had scared him off, she looked back to the windows and saw a familiar pink form walking briskly past. Allie grimaced and whispered a chant. “Please don’t come in, please don’t come in, please don’t... damn, damn, damn.”
The bells jingled, the bells from hell. She really should have locked the door instead of welcoming customers in for coffee. Plastering on a smile, she straightened at the counter and smoothed the apron over her purple high-low skirt.
“Morning, Marybeth.” Her tone came out pleasing enough though inside, she was fighting the urge to jump off a cliff. Her mama had always said, if you don’t feel it, fake it. Rest her soul, she’d be proud.
Marybeth Dawson gasped and did a three-sixty, taking in the bakery’s state with a gaped mouth.
“Oh my God, Allie Mae, what happened in here?”
