Double Bear Secret: Werebear BBW Menage Romance (Hockey Bear Season Book 2) Read online

  And my parents wonder why I don’t have a boyfriend… she huffed to herself, as Dirk grabbed his companion’s ass before closing the motel room door after them. Now that’s a picture that speaks a thousand words, she thought, catching the gesture on film.

  Not eager to stick around and find out exactly how much stamina Mr. Williams had, Lily packed up her gear and climbed over to the front seat. Julie didn’t need time-stamped evidence material. She wasn’t going to sue for alimony or try and contest a prenup. Having launched a successful line of vegan cosmetics, Dirk was the one that was about to be left out in the rain, moving out of the straight-up mansion he shared with Julie.

  There’s no shortage of idiots on this Earth. If you’re going to cheat, at least be discreet about it.

  Lily was aware her world-view could be a little cynical, but being in her business, that was kind of a given. One’s faith in mankind tended to wane after exposing one lowlife after another. People had secrets and hidden motivations that even their closest loved ones knew nothing about. Trust was for those who didn’t know any better. Lily would rather believe her eyes than her ears.

  That was probably why she wasn’t one to get sweet talked into a date, or taking any guy at face value. A regular person would be surprised what a quick background check might reveal.

  That cute guy who told you he’s a pharmaceutical rep? Yeah, more like a deadbeat selling oxycodone out of his cousin’s basement.

  With one final glance at the motel, Lily started her car and sped off. Now all she had left to do was call Julie and set up a meeting. These were the kind of pictures you delivered in person. She felt bad for giving the Julie such bad news, but at least now the woman would know the truth, instead of wondering and driving herself crazy with doubts and speculations.

  Lily already had a new case sitting in her e-mail inbox, some chain restaurant looking to verify claims one of its regional managers was sexually harassing the waitresses. Weaving through traffic, she sighed to herself, thinking of how exactly she was going to prove or disprove that one.

  She could pretend to be a new waitress and wait for the guy to make a move. It wouldn’t be the most pleasant approach, but setting up cameras in the breakroom might be a tad suspicious. Wearing a wire and recording any lewd comments would be a lot quicker, and she was all about results.

  That was why she was in such high demand. She got the job done quick while being thorough, and always remained professional. She wasn’t one to downplay her strong suits, and had no trouble saying she was damn good at her job. Too many women shrank away from singing their own praises, in her opinion.

  If you’re good at something, you’ve got to let people know.

  Downtown Denver passed her by, the sun shining and people out and about, enjoying their day. Turning into a side street, she pulled up to a small commercial building that also housed her office.

  The office wasn’t much, but it was all hers. She had tried working out of her apartment in the beginning, mostly due to not having enough money for an office. But when all the research and paperwork started taking over, to the point she couldn’t even find her coffee maker in the morning, she found some space to rent out so she wouldn’t go completely insane.

  Now she had a completely different problem – knowing when to call it quits and go home. The couch in her office meant for clients had also served as her bed too many times to count. Since good chiropractors didn’t come cheap, she was trying to wean herself off that particular habit.

  Climbing up the stairs, she passed by an optometrist’s office and a small accounting firm, before reaching the third floor, the proud home of Decker Investigations. She didn’t have any appointments set up for that day, so she was surprised to find people standing at the end of the hallway, pacing right outside her office door.

  Brow furrowing, she walked towards them, instantly catching their attention. A woman in an expensive-looking dress looked her up and down, flanked by two men in suits. Whoever they were, they must have been in a tight spot to just show up like this. Who knew how long they had been waiting here for her while she followed Dirk around all morning.

  Lily was immediately suspicious, and mildly concerned about what these people wanted from her. But she didn’t let that show as she strolled up to her door, keys jangling in her hand.

  “Do you mind?” she asked, looking from one face to another as she slipped past them to get to her office.

  “Lily Decker? We have a job for you,” the woman said.

  Her thin lips were painted red, her brows perfectly arched and her dark hair in that sleek kind of ponytail Lily could never get the hang of. She always had tendrils of hair falling on her face, or bumps near the hair-tie where there should be none. Squaring her shoulders at the lady’s cool tone and aura of self-importance, Lily pulled back from unlocking her door and crossed her arms in front of her instead.

  “And what makes you think showing up here without an appointment will make me take this job of yours? My schedule is already packed as it is.”

  “Oh, I have a feeling you’ll take the job,” the woman smiled, baring a row of perfect teeth. “Money is not an object.”

  Okay, what the hell is going on here?

  Two

  Connor

  Connor was patting his teammates on the back, both literally and figuratively, as they all pulled their skates off after a friendly match with the Minnesota Grizzlies. The game had been tense and the Grizzlies a worthy opponent, but somehow, they’d managed to come out on top.

  All they had to do now was keep that momentum going until the next season. The Denver Predators were still a new, up and coming team in the National Shifter Hockey League, and they had a lot to prove. Connor didn’t mind hard work, and he knew his brother felt the same.

  Speaking of the devil, Crash was busy telling the other men that they should go out and drink to their victory. Connor knew his brother would have been saying that whether they won or lost. Crash never failed to find a reason to party. Yet despite being happy his team proved they could hold their own against an established opponent like the Grizzlies, Connor didn’t feel like celebrating.

  Especially since the last time I let Crash drag me out, I had to buy the club a new table.

  “Good job getting past their defense,” Graham said, clapping him on the back.

  The burly man was the team’s enforcer, and was surprisingly nimble despite his massive size.

  “Thanks, man,” Connor replied, smiling as he brushed past Graham to get to their coach, looking defeated in the corner, despite their victory.

  Wyatt, the assistant coach, had already left, rushing to meet up with some friends of his, leaving Ben to sulk alone.

  “Ben. What’s up?” Connor asked, leaning close to be heard over the buzz of voices at his back.

  “Nothing’s up. Go back and celebrate with your team.”

  “Yeah, okay. You look like your dog just died.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Ben sighed, running a hand over his sandy hair, peppered with a few gray strands. “I have to go to a management meeting first thing in the morning and from how little they told me about what we’re going to be discussing, I have a feeling I’m not going to like it. But it’s nothing you have to worry about.”

  Connor’s curiosity was piqued.

  “Connor! Come on man, let’s get going. We can make the bar for happy hour if we hurry,” Crash’s voice called out over the bustle.

  “Do what your brother says and go have fun,” Ben said. “Let me worry about my job. You already did yours.”

  “Fine,” Connor replied with a shrug.

  It wouldn’t do him any good to argue with Coach Ben. If he got on the man’s nerves enough, he could expect some extra drills next practice, and Ben sure knew how to make even the toughest man sweat. Even if he looked down and out right now, Connor had dealt with the man long enough to know how to get on his bad side.

  Pushing his curiosity and tendency to worry too much
aside, he packed up his stuff and joined the rest of the team, deciding to focus on the win rather than what was bothering Ben. His bear was stirring inside him, still on a high from the victory. He could sense the same from his fellow teammates, their animal sides closer to the surface after going toe to toe with the Grizzlies.

  Hockey was already an intense sport. Add to that the impressive physicality and flaring tempers of shifters, and the results could be explosive. That was probably what filled the seats. That, and the occasional violent fights that broke out between teams.

  Nothing like a good old-fashioned shifter hockey brawl.

  When shifters first started forming their own leagues, there were doubts about how popular it was going to be. But humans and shifters alike ended up showing up in droves, and now shifter sports were just as popular as human versions, if not more so.

  Shifters were stronger, faster and had better reflexes. In Connor’s opinion there was no competition as to which version was more interesting to watch.

  Crash was grinning at him as they exited the rink, his green eyes lit up. Graham and Aiden caught up with them as the others dragged behind, laughing among themselves.

  “We are so going to clean house next season, I know it,” Aiden said, falling into step next to Crash.

  “Damn right,” Graham echoed, reaching out to bump fists with Aiden.

  “You better cut your damn hair before that happens. I’m not accepting our Stanley Shifter Cup with Mr. Manbun by my side,” Crash jeered.

  “What are you talking about? Ladies love the locks. You’re just jealous,” Aiden countered, smoothing his palm over his hair.

  “Of you? The Grizzlies must have bumped your noggin,” Crash scoffed. “We all know who the babe-magnet of our team is,” he said, smugly pointing to himself.

  “Come on, brother. You might do alright, but we know who got the looks in our family,” Connor interjected, earning a high-five from Graham.

  “Has the whole world gone insane? What is going on here?” Crash exclaimed, looking around in bewilderment.

  “It’s like that Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito deal, where I got all the good genes and you got all the castoffs,” Connor chuckled, enjoying the part angry, part shocked expression on his brother’s face. “What was that movie called again?”

  “Twins?” Aiden helpfully replied.

  “How fitting,” Connor grinned.

  “Oooh,” Graham drew out. “Didn’t see that one coming, did you Crash? I thought you twins had like some kind of telepathy or something.”

  “Like I’d want to share minds with this tool,” Crash shot back, the glare he was throwing at Connor quickly wavering.

  Connor knew his brother could never stay mad at him for more than a minute. They might have not had ‘twin telepathy’ or whatever people called it, but they were best friends and knew each other better than anyone.

  Siblings fought and bickered amongst themselves, it was like a given. And while Crash and Connor gave each other a hard time sometimes, it rarely went beyond friendly banter. Truth was, they had been almost inseparable as long as he could remember. Now they even shared a career.

  There are some things we might have been better off not sharing, though, he thought, reaching into his pocket and peeking at his phone. Five missed calls in two hours? Really?

  Shoving his phone back, he decided to put both his insistent caller and the coach’s sour mood out of his mind. With the whole team around him in a boisterous, triumphant mood, it wasn’t hard to do. Their excitement was infectious, and he couldn’t help but go along with it and see where the night took them.

  “Come on. I’ll buy you a beer, little brother,” Connor smiled, throwing an arm around Crash.

  Our problems can wait for tonight, he thought.

  Looking back, he would realize how naïve that was. But by then, it would be too late.

  Three

  Crash

  Adjusting his speed and incline, Crash glanced over at Connor on the treadmill next to him.

  “Wanna race?” he asked, wagging his brows at his brother.

  “You’re an idiot,” Connor replied, rolling his eyes at him.

  “You’re just mad because I made you take shots of tequila and now you have a headache.”

  “How do I never learn my lesson?” Connor groaned, not even bothering to deny it. “I’m older than you, I should know better than to go along with your party boy ways.”

  “Excuse me, I wasn’t the one busting a move in the middle of the bar,” Crash laughed. “And you’re only fifteen minutes older.”

  “That’s still older,” Connor grumbled, wiping the sweat off his brow.

  “You need to lighten up,” Crash huffed.

  Connor had the tendency to take everything a bit too seriously. Sometimes that could turn out to be a good thing, but more often than not, it was kind of a downer.

  Despite the difference in their temperaments, Crash and Connor shared many qualities. They both inherited their mother’s green eyes and brown hair. And while they weren’t quite identical, the looked similar enough to confuse people, at least from afar. Crash was an inch taller, but both brothers were graced with high cheekbones; straight, narrow noses and square jaws.

  That combined with their broad, muscular build meant that they never lacked for female attention. Crash would have never thought he’d come to complain about that, but a recent experience had him more cautious than he’d ever been when it came to the opposite sex.

  The occasional pissed off boyfriend or angry ex I can handle… This is getting into stalker territory.

  “Did she call you, too?” he prodded.

  “Yeah.”

  Connor stared straight ahead, clearly not keen on discussing it.

  “What does she want, you think?” Crash asked.

  “Does it matter? We’ve made it clear we don’t want to see her again. We can’t encourage her by taking her calls. We tried talking, it didn’t work.”

  “You’re right,” Crash sighed. “I’m just curious.”

  They avoided the topic the rest of the time they spent at the team’s private gym, running through their set routine while chatting about what was to come next.

  “Coach said he had a meeting with management today, and now they’ve called in the whole team? Something’s going on,” Connor said as they walked towards the locker rooms.

  “We’ll know what it is sooner rather than later,” Crash remarked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

  They were due in the conference room in half an hour, which gave them just enough time to shower and change before attending this mystery meeting they were made aware of only this morning.

  “It’s nothing good, if you ask me,” Connor said, obviously still not in a great mood.

  Guess I should have fed him a shot for breakfast, Crash mused idly.

  “Chill out, Tequila Man. You’re going to give yourself an early heart attack with all this negativity.”

  “Thanks for the advice, doctor,” was all Connor said in response before they hit the showers.

  Exchanging slightly confused looks with his teammates, Crash sat at the long table in the conference room, with his brother in the seat on his right and Eddie, the goaltender, on his right.

  “What do you reckon this is all about?” Eddie asked in his trademark drawl.

  The coach chose that moment to step inside, followed by a couple of guys in suits Crash had never seen before.

  “We’re about to find out,” he replied.

  “Hello, guys. Hope you had fun last night,” Ben said, coming to stand at the head of the table.

  There were murmurs and nods from all corners of the table, and Crash grinned to himself, recalling how they closed out the bar yesterday. Everyone had certainly had a good time, alright. Half of the men didn’t go home alone, and the other half had been too busy singing old shifter songs to even care about women.

  “Good, good. Well the fun is over, starting now,” Ben an
nounced, his voice cutting through all the other voices as he folded his arms over his chest. “Last night’s match was a friendly game. It doesn’t mean we can stop working our asses off. And with that in mind, the owners have set up an opportunity for us to focus on nothing but making sure we are the team to beat next season.

  “Pack your bags, because we’re going to Shifter Grove for a two-week training camp.”

  “Wait, like Shifter Grove, Idaho? Home of the Shifter Grove Shovelers?” Crash whispered, turning to his brother.

  “You know another Shifter Grove?” Connor asked, arching a brow.

  “But that’s in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think they even have roads there.”

  “Stop being an idiot. Of course they have roads,” Connor scoffed.

  Crash only barely stopped himself from asking for confirmation.

  “Well, the cell service being spotty at best will work to our advantage,” Crash said after a moment of thought. “Makes dodging our stalker’s calls a lot easier.”

  “No internet?” Crash couldn’t help but groan. “That’s worse than no roads.”

  “You can update your Instant Gram or whatever when we get back,” Connor rolled his eyes.

  “It’s Instagram, grandpa,” Crash huffed.

  Ben continued talking, forcing Crash to turn his attention to the man.

  “And for another piece of news, we have a new member for our crew. To help me keep an eye on you boys and make sure we’ll all be on track, I’ve been assigned an assistant. Her name is Lily Douglas and she’ll be meeting us in Shifter Grove.”

  “Great. A babysitter,” Crash groaned.

  “You got something to say?” Ben asked.

  “No, just thinking out loud about how many suitcases to pack.”

  Crash put on his best winning smile. Ben didn’t seem particularly convinced by it.

  “Right,” Ben drew out, shaking his head.