Big Bear Daddy: Werebear Surprise Baby Romance (Sweetwater Father Bears) Read online

  Big Bear Daddy

  Sweetwater Dads

  Anya Nowlan

  Contents

  A Little Taste…

  Copyright

  1. Jessy

  2. Colt

  3. Colt

  4. Jessy

  5. Colt

  6. Jessy

  7. Colt

  8. Jessy

  9. Colt

  10. Jessy

  11. Colt

  12. Jessy

  13. Colt

  14. Jessy

  15. Colt

  16. Jessy

  17. Jessy

  18. Colt

  Epilogue

  Big Bear Father Excerpt

  Want More?

  About the Author

  Thank you for reading!

  A Little Taste…

  She must have looked as lost as she felt between the rows of hammers and nails, because after a while, a deep voice addressed her. It made her jump a little before she turned around.

  “Miss? Can I help you with something?”

  Now how did he manage to sneak up on me? was the first thought she had when she came face to face with the man looking down at her.

  He was absolutely huge, towering over Jessy’s modest 5'7" frame and looking like his wide shoulders barely fit in between the shelves. Wearing a t-shirt that accentuated his hard chest and narrow waist, and sporting the sexiest beard she had ever seen, the mere sight of him made Jessy’s mouth run dry.

  “Umm, do you work here?” she stammered, trying not to gape at Mr. Sexypants and failing spectacularly.

  The way his eyes flicked down for a second and moved across her curves told Jessy her appreciation wasn’t one-sided, at least. He smiled at her, the way his full lips quirked up demanding her attention in the most carnal way. Blushing at the naughty thoughts starting to run through her mind, she did her best to pull her mind out of the gutter and focus.

  I’m here to find my niece, not to date, she reminded herself, yet all she could think of was how the man’s beard would feel against her face.

  “No, but I thought I’d offer my help anyway,” he replied, his voice low and husky, with just the right amount of twang.

  “That’s how hopeless I look, huh?” she asked, crossing her arms and trying to sound casual.

  Mr. Sexypants shrugged, his biceps bulging under the thin cotton fabric of his shirt. Dark eyes glimmering, he took a step closer. The heat emanating from his body wrapped around her, the intensity of it almost making her gasp.

  Suddenly, she didn’t mind being warm. Fire pulsated through her veins, pulling her towards this stranger in a way she had never experienced before.

  “We’re all hopeless at something. But then we learn,” he said, studying her face closely, like he was trying to place her. “Have we met somewhere before?”

  Oh, I would definitely remember seeing you before, Jessy almost said aloud, biting her tongue at the last moment.

  Copyright © 2016 Anya Nowlan

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Big Bear Daddy

  Sweetwater Dads

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this work may be used, reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means by anyone but the purchaser for their own personal use. This book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of Anya Nowlan. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

  Cover © Jack of Covers

  One

  Jessy

  “Come on, ring already,” Jessy whispered under her breath, staring at her phone.

  People kept passing her desk, chatting amongst themselves, but for her, time stood still. It was a Tuesday, the day she and her sister had agreed on as their regular check-in day.

  They had settled on noon as the time, since Jessy would be on her lunch break and free to talk on the phone. Since they put their rule in place a little less than two years ago, Rachel hadn’t missed a call yet.

  Until now.

  Which is why Jessy had been anxiously staring at her phone for hours now, alternating between dialing her sister’s number and waiting for her to call back. Whatever was going on in her and her sister’s lives, they had never failed to keep their promise to stay in touch.

  Sure, Rachel was the younger and flightier one, but this was one thing even she had always been punctual on. The only thing she’d been punctual on, in fact.

  What if something’s happened to her?

  Jessy quickly buried the thought. It was too awful, especially considering the bombshell Rachel had dropped on her a week ago.

  You’re going to be an aunty, Jess!

  The words still echoed through her mind, filling her with both excitement and anxiety, mostly because she was so far away from her sister.

  Rachel had been road-tripping through the southern states while Jessy was stuck crunching numbers in Portland, unable to help her sister with anything but words. She was hoping she could convince Rachel to come to Oregon, so she could help her through her pregnancy, as it sounded like the father wasn’t in the picture.

  Rachel had always gone for the noncommittal bad boy, so Jessy wasn’t exactly surprised by that. But it didn’t matter, Rachel was sure to be a great mom and Aunty Jess would be there to help her. If Rachel would let her.

  Which all hinges on her actually getting in touch with me to begin with!

  Her sister was already more than four months along, and it was killing Jessy not to be a part of this exciting time in Rachel’s life. At first, Jessy had been a bit hurt that her sister didn’t tell her the moment she suspected she might be pregnant, but then joy took over, making her decide to let it slide.

  Rachel had never done things by the book, so it really shouldn’t have surprised Jessy that she was doing this pregnancy ‘her way’ as well.

  The memory of learning that bit of news momentarily distracted Jessy from her worrying and a smile stretched her lips. Her sister was all the family she had left in the world and she was thrilled to have another Sarli running around in the world. It had been just her and Rachel for too long. And this child could help bring them back together.

  Rachel had always insisted on not staying in one place for too long. While Jessy settled down and got an accounting job in their hometown of Portland, Rachel embarked on her cross-country adventure, jumping in her beat-up truck and doing odd jobs on her way from one town to the next.

  That would have to change once the child was born.

  I hope, Jessy told herself.

  Getting through to Rachel wasn’t always the easiest thing, even when there weren’t countless states separating them.

  Picking up her cell and getting ready to call Rachel again, Jessy almost jumped in her seat when her phone buzzed to life with Rachel’s number and picture flashing across the screen.

  “Oh thank God,” Jessy whispered, sliding her finger on the screen to accept the call.

  They looked remarkably alike, even for sisters, both inheriting their mother’s soft, delicate features and their father’s blond hair and blue eyes. Only difference was, Rachel had dyed her hair dark a long time ago, covering up the flaxen locks with raven black.

  Jessy scrambled to answer the call, relaxing when she heard her sister’s voice flow over the speaker. Her
happiness was short-lived, however, as she could immediately tell something was wrong.

  “Hey, Jess, sorry I didn’t call on time,” Rachel said, her voice wavering a little.

  Jessy swiveled in her chair, turning her back to the office and keeping her voice low. She frowned, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth slightly.

  “That’s okay. How are you doing? Did you make that doctor’s appointment? Are you taking your vitamins?”

  “Yeah, yeah, everything is fine,” Rachel replied, utterly unconvincing.

  Alarm swelled in Jessy’s chest. Her sister had never been a very good liar.

  She remembered the time they went trick-or-treating together as kids, and afterwards, Rachel tried to convince their parents she hadn’t eaten all her candy before dinner, with chocolate still smeared all over her face. That was Rachel Sarli’s level of fibbing, and it hadn’t changed much over the years.

  “Rach, come on, I can tell something’s up. Talk to me.”

  There was some rustling and what sounded like Rachel shushing someone, with soft whimpering and crying in the background. Jessy couldn’t help but think it sounded like a baby fussing.

  But…. Rachel isn’t due for another five months. Right? She wouldn’t lie to me about that.

  “Don’t worry about me, Jessy, I’m doing good. I just wanted to say I love you. And watch your back, okay?”

  There were definitely sobs in Rachel’s voice now, and Jessy couldn’t prevent tears welling up in her eyes. Her little sister was in trouble, that much was obvious, and she was powerless to help her. She wasn’t even sure why they were crying but tears came to her regardless.

  Dammit. What is going on?

  “Watch my back? Rachel, what’s…”

  “Just promise me.”

  “I promise, but whatever’s going on…”

  Rachel cut her off again, sniffling.

  “I have to go, I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Wait, Rachel-“

  Before Jessy could say anything else, the line went dead, the silence filling her with dread. Someone clearing their throat drew her attention away from her phone, just as she was starting to call her sister back. Startled, she turned around, wiping away tears.

  Anna, her supervisor, was standing at her desk, looking like she was ready to chastise her for taking personal calls at work. But her annoyance turned to concern when she saw Jessy’s face, the older woman looking immediately softer and kinder.

  “Jessica, is something wrong?” Anna asked, adjusting her glasses.

  “Yes, something’s very wrong. I need to take a personal day,” she replied, voice shaking.

  Without even waiting for Anna’s response, she slammed her laptop shut and started stuffing her things into her bag. She didn’t even know what she was going to do, since Rachel was god only knew where on the other side of the country, but she had to do something. There was no way she could just go on with the workday like nothing had happened.

  “Okay, of course. Is there something I can do?”

  Already out of her seat and pressing her phone back to her ear, Jessy barely paid attention to what Anna was saying as she brushed past the woman, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

  “No, thank you,” she mumbled, half-running towards the elevators, heart pounding heavily in her chest.

  An automated voice flowed into her ear, informing her that the number she was trying to call was unreachable. Letting out a frustrated cry, Jessy stepped into the elevator and tried again, only to get the same message.

  Panic pooled in the pit of her stomach, making her nauseous.

  Rachel, what in the hell have you gotten yourself into?

  Two

  Colt

  “Stop stalling and get in the cell, Brad.”

  Brad shrugged Colt’s hand off his shoulder, swaying a little in the process.

  “Get off me, man. I can walk on my own,” the young man slurred, his breath smelling like cigarettes and beer.

  Like it usually did when the two of them got to enjoy one another’s company.

  Sure you can, Colt thought, stepping back to watch the man squint at the open cell door in front of him.

  It was the middle of summer, and even thought Rockport was as small of a town as towns got, they still managed to get their share of rowdy college kids on a mission to get drunk in as many states as possible. Brad simply happened to have gotten stuck in Rockport for a little longer than he probably originally intended, becoming well-acquainted with the local sheriff in the process.

  The future of our country, everybody, Colt, being the aforementioned sheriff, thought wryly, looking at the disheveled kid before him.

  Yet it wasn’t Brad’s drunken state that got on his nerves. Colt had done his own share of partying when he was younger, so he couldn’t exactly judge. And while he and his buddies might have caused a headache or two with their loud singing and bad jokes, they always remained respectful to the people around them.

  That was not the case with Brad.

  Clad in a sleeveless shirt that showed off his hard work at the gym and looking like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks, Brad struck Colt as pitiful as he was unpleasant. Barely of legal drinking age, Brad had made a nuisance of himself at one of the local watering holes this time, finally stepping over the line when he started pawing at the waitress.

  That didn’t sit well with the other patrons and Colt was quickly called to the scene by the owner, wanting to avoid a violent incident. If anyone could get a bar full of intoxicated, angry cowboys to settle down, it was Colt. Mostly all he needed to do was show up, and the situation would immediately de-escalate.

  He figured it had to be his winning charm, or maybe his friendly smile. Or maybe the fact that he was built like he could go ten rounds with every cowboy at the bar and not break a sweat.

  One of those, anyway.

  “What a disgrace,” a male voice commented from the doorway connecting the cells to the rest of the sheriff’s office.

  Colt turned around to arch a brow at his deputy, Deacon. Brad had already gotten belligerent at the bar Colt had picked him up from, and the last thing Colt needed was him getting riled up again. But it seemed it was too late for that.

  “I don’t know why you people won’t let me have a good time,” Brad mumbled, puffing up his chest. “This is a free country,” he added, hiccupping.

  “Yea, yeah, now get your ass in the cell,” Colt replied, growing impatient.

  “For freedom!” Brad suddenly yelled, swinging around to try and sucker-punch him.

  What a revolutionary.

  With an audible sigh, Colt caught the man’s fist and used it to twist Brad’s whole arm behind his back, adding pressure until he sank to his knees.

  “Ow, ow, this is police brutality!” Brad complained, his face grimacing in pain.

  Letting him go, Colt placed a hand on Brad’s shoulder and guided him towards the open door.

  “Feel free to file an excessive force complaint in the morning.”

  This time, the man didn’t protest, stepping inside and plunking down on the small cot shoved against the wall. He looked tired and defeated, with bags under his red-rimmed eyes. To add insult to injury, one of his flip-flops was missing.

  “Sleep it off. I’ll check on you in the morning,” Colt said, locking the cell. “Come on, Deacon,” he added to his deputy as he brushed past the tall, wiry man on his way back into the office, ducking to fit through doorway.

  With heavy steps, Colt walked to his station and sank into his chair with a sigh, running a hand over his dark, closely cropped hair. Deacon followed after, closing the door between the cells and the office, blessing them both with hard-earned silence.

  “You really put that idiot in his place,” Deacon commented, hovering near Colt’s desk with an impressed grin.

  Colt bristled at that, more annoyed than he probably had cause to be. But he had been feeling irritable lately, his skin seemingly too tight around him
and a growl always ready in the back of his throat.

  I haven’t had the time to cut loose lately. I need to go for a run, blow off some steam before someone pays the price for it.

  “He’s just a dumb kid,” he replied, pulling up his keyboard.

  The computer in front of him came to life, the Aransas County, Texas, seal proudly displayed as the pre-set background picture. Deacon plopped down to sit on the edge of Colt’s desk, his eyebrows knitting together.

  “Yeah, but he had to learn sometime. Every now and then, words aren’t enough with guys like these.”

  Not looking up from the Disorderly Conduct report he was filling out, Colt gave Deacon a noncommittal grunt, hoping this conversation would be over soon. He didn’t appreciate his deputy’s tendency to cheer on violence. And he didn’t feel especially proud of teaching Brad a lesson.

  The kid never stood a chance, not just drunk but also only human.

  “That’s not our call to make,” Colt all but growled, making it clear this conversation was no longer.

  Holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, Deacon stood and walked over to his own desk, spurs jangling as he went.

  “Sorry, sheriff. Didn’t mean nothing by it.”

  Colt didn’t reply, just nodded curtly and got on with the report. He knew Deacon had been speaking more as a friend than a fellow officer, but the lines between personal and professional tended to blur in Rockport. Sometimes, a little too much.

  Yet he also valued the sense of community that came along with living in a small town. Things were different when you knew all the faces around you. It meant that most of the time when there was some sort of problem, he could just have a talk with the concerned parties and hash it out in a friendly manner.

  That definitely hadn’t been the case when he was a cop back in Sacramento, before he made his way to Rockport.

  Not to mention, the rural area agreed with his bear. A roar rumbled through him at the thought, and he made a mental note to make sure he got a trip to the woods in before the week was over. Spirits knew he needed it.