Shifters Forever: The Box Set Books 1 -: Shifters Forever Worlds Box Sets, #1

Shifters Forever Books 1-6 Box Set

SHIFTERS FOREVER WORLDS

Elle Thorne

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Copyright © 2016 by Elle Thorne

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Cover

Shifters Forever Box Set

Protection

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Seduction

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Epilogue

Persuasion

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Epilogue

Invitation

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Epilogue

Temptation

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Attraction

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

Controversy Excerpt

Chapter 1

Afterword

The Shifters Forever Worlds

Shifter Realms

Sci-Fi Romance by Elle Thorne

Thank You So Much!

About Elle

Elle’s Newsletter

Shifters Forever Box Set

Shifters Forever

...in the mountains of Bear Canyon Valley.

Grizzly bear shifters and their mates steam up the pages in these swoon-worthy paranormal romances. From trespassers with hidden agendas to curvaceous women who are ready to take a chance, the stories in this collection will capture your heart.

Protection

Seduction

Persuasion

Invitation

Temptation

Attraction

Enjoy!

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Protection

Grizzly bear shifter Grant Waters wants one woman—curvy Chelsea O’Reilly. He’s wanted her since they met. Except he’s worried his secret may be too much for her. It could be what sets her running.

Curvaceous Chelsea works at a salon in Bear Canyon Valley. She gets butterflies when Grant’s around. But she’s got her own baggage. Plus, she thinks that Grant would be better off with the local, stunning, curvy, widowed-way-too-early Mae Forester.

Chapter One

Grant Waters picked up the pace. Not that he was anxious to see Chelsea. Okay, yes he was. He’d been seeing her every three weeks for two months. He’d been seeing her since she first moved to town.

On a professional level, of course.

Only. Not that he wouldn’t love to see her more often. And see more of her.

Damn, the thought of that made his cock twitch. He’d better control that before he walked into the hair salon where she worked. The last thing he needed was to scare her off with a raging hard-on. A glance at his watch confirmed his appointment was in five minutes.

He took a deep breath of the cool winter air, then let it out slowly and tried to think of anything that would make his arousal lessen.

Good luck with that.

Might as well go in and see her. And get his hair cut.

He clicked the fob, locking the door on his pickup, ran his fingers through hair that didn’t really need a cut yet. And never really needed a cut when he scheduled his appointments. And yet he did. Every three weeks, like clockwork, he was back. Back for more Chelsea.

Grant.

He turned toward the voice.

Mae, the salon owner, called his name. Seems she was headed toward the salon, too.

Not working today? he asked her.

Needed to pick up a couple of supplies. She raised a bulky box an inch or two, then settled it against her torso again.

Let me help you with that. He stepped her way and relieved her of the burden.

She looked at his hair, cocked her head, and a tiny smile played on her lips. Is it already time for another cut?

He nodded and waited for her teasing. She enjoyed picking on him for coming in so often.

It was on the calendar.

As if he wasn’t the one that put it there.

When are you going to ask her out? You’ll save a lot of money on haircuts.

You want me to save money on haircuts? Seems like that would cut into your income.

And that would worry me? Another smile from Mae.

He knew the income didn’t matter to Mae. She was well-off financially. Set for life, as she’d told him when he asked her if she’d be okay after she lost her husband. Owning the beauty salon allowed her to pursue her other interests.

Namely, helping others.

He exhaled, watching his breath in the cold air. Maybe today will be the day. I’m not sure if she’s as interested... He shifted the box to one hand and opened the door to the salon with the other.

"You have doubts? You?"

Not that impossible to believe, is it? He shook his head at the hopelessly romantic matchmaker that Mae was, and stood aside so she could precede him into her shop.

His kind mated for life. And life to his kind meant forever. It was no small thing to ask a human to commit to a life with a shifter—forever.

Mae was no stranger to that. She lost her shifter husband many, many years ago, and had never taken another.

Chapter Two

Chelsea looked at the clock for the fiftieth time since 10:00 a.m. Grant’s appointment was at 11:00, in three minutes.

Three minutes!

A warm flush ran through her body, a surge of excitement to see him again. She looked in the mirror, pulling her smock off. She didn’t need it accentuating her extra curves. She certainly didn’t need it adding any extra pounds.

She turned, looked at her backside in the mirror. Jeez, what she wouldn’t give to have a smaller ass. She shot an envious glance toward the hairdresser in the next station over.

Probably a size 2.

Then Chelsea looked back at her own ample derriere. He’d never give her a second glance.

Yet, he was kind of flirty... so maybe?

Or maybe he’s just being nice to his hairdresser. She promptly put herself back in place. Don’t go getting your hopes up.

Your regular should be here in a few, right? said Lana, the size 2 next to Chelsea.

Chelsea’s cheeks grew warm. She chanced a peek in the mirror. Yep, that embarrassing red color was creeping its way up her chest to her face.

All six foot-four inches, wide shoulders, and piercing blue eyes of him. I’m not sure.

Sure you aren’t.

Okay, hopeless. Of course she looked forward to seeing him. She had ever since the first haircut she’d given him, one week after she took this job, which seemed like ages ago.

The sound of the door opening and closing brought her back to the present.

She busied herself with the scissors, dryers, and brushes at her station, pretending she wasn’t expecting or anxious to see him.

Chapter Three

Grant set the box down on the reception desk and closed the door behind him, trying not to be too loud and bring attention to himself.

See you later, Miss Mae. He gave his good friend a smile and headed toward Chelsea’s station.

Mae gave him a coquettish smile. She seemed to enjoy that he called her Miss Mae, though she didn’t look a day over thirty-something. He was hoping to escape from Lana’s blatant flirting before he was situated in Chelsea’s care.

Whoa! Holy mother of fine asses.

The first thing he saw was Chelsea’s ass as she bent over and arranged things at her station. He paused, taking his time to enjoy the sight. By the heavens above, that was one tantalizing view. A jerk in his pants concurred with that assessment.

Chelsea whirled around. Grant. Her voice was breathless and low.

He wished that it was because he’d entered. He wished that it was because of him. Probably only because she’d been leaning over and had stood up too quickly.

Her smile showed off perfect white teeth. He imagined those teeth grazing his skin, teasing him.

Still smiling, she said, Today’s your day. Seems like just yesterday you were here.

He hoped that didn’t mean she was disappointed to see him. He enjoyed the time they spent together while she washed his hair, massaging his scalp, and talking about different stuff. Thankfully the robe-thing she would place over him hid the effect she had on him.

More or less.

Probably less.

But between that robe and his pants, he always managed to hide the tent he pitched for her while her hands worked through his hair, and her soft voice with that sexy tone pulled on him.

Grant! Lana’s screech disrupted the salon’s serenity. She lunged his way, locking him into a hug, her body pushing against him.

He noticed Chelsea’s crestfallen expression and quickly pulled himself from Lana’s grasp. Hi, Lana. Sorry, I think I’m late for my appointment with Chelsea.

When are you going to let me tend to your hair... and your other needs? Lana’s hand drifted over his crotch as he drew away.

He threw a glance at Chelsea, hoping she hadn’t seen that, and even more, hoping that she knew he was disinterested in Lana. He had to make it clearer to Lana to back off, it seemed.

I’m good. Thanks. He kept his voice cool, but had to pry her other hand off his bicep.

He walked up to Chelsea. No hug for me?

I wondered if you’d already gotten your daily allotment. A smart-ass smile crossed her face just before she turned around and reached for the robe.

That’s what he loved about her—her sense of humor. And her awesome personality. Well, there were a couple more things. Her nice full ass, her hips, a set of tits that would fill his hands and overflow, nipples that he couldn’t help but notice.

Not when it comes to yours. He gave her a wink and took a seat since her turning for the robe negated a hug.

She laid it over him, wrapping it around his neck. I need to get one that’s larger, so I can actually close it around your neck.

You’ve been saying that for a couple of months now. I’m beginning to think you’re all talk.

She laughed and put her hands on his neck, her thumbs and fingertips rising up to his scalp, her nails raking his skin, her thumb pads massaging.

You know you don’t really need a haircut just yet. I don’t know why you get your hair cut so often. Her eyes twinkled, dark chocolate against her fair skin.

Really? No clue?

It was past time for him to quit beating around the bush, as Mae had pointed out.

The blush that colored Chelsea’s cheeks made her eyes sparkle and fueled his desire to see how far down her body that blush would extend. It also affirmed that she was at least a little interested—maybe.

He breathed in deep.

His bear’s senses took in her scent, her arousal and desire. His eyes closed, partially in response to the fierce need to mate with her that effused his body. His bear sought to take control of the situation and claim her, make her his, mark her for life.

So what do you say? He struggled to keep the desire from showing in his voice.

To what? She ran her fingers through his hair again. Let’s go to the chairs, wash this hair, then we’ll see if I can give you a trim.

He followed her to the back, fighting to keep his bear from staring at her luscious ass as it swayed, imagining what it would be like to smack her with his palm while driving deep into her.

For fuck’s sake, he had it bad. This time was worse than any other.

He bit back a roar of desire at the image of taking her from behind, those luscious creamy globes pressing against his flesh as he pumped her and slapped that ass.

Grant? She turned around to face him.

He’d missed something she said. Dammit. Yeah?

Never mind.

No, what? He took hold of her hand, stopping her from turning around and leading him to the back.

Oh, I was just asking you to finish your thought from earlier.

If she only knew how many thoughts he’d had... And how lascivious... He knew what she meant.

I was asking what you’d say to the idea of maybe dinner. We could head into the city, not this town— He laughed because the town they were in could hardly be called one. —and we could do something?

She tilted her head. Something? Her voice had a little teasing in it. She indicated the chair.

He sprawled into it, the contraption barely containing his large frame.

Behind his head, she turned the water on and sprayed his hair with the warmth. She leaned over him, reaching for the shampoo. Her luscious breasts were a tongue’s length away from his mouth.

If she didn’t have clothing on—

If they were alone—

He could claim the nipples that were poking against her top, their hardness barely concealed by the fabric, their outline and shape tempting his senses, bringing the bear in him to a fury for a taste.

A hundred years ago, two hundred years ago, things would have been different. That was before he’d found a mate he wanted—Chelsea. That was when he would have found a willing, wet, and warm place to drive his thickness into.

Chapter Four

Chelsea leaned over and tried to get a squirt of the shampoo into her palm without rubbing her breasts on his face. There were times she hated having boobs so big. She wasn’t sure if this was one of those times.

She held her breath. This man’s sex appeal was too much.

Chelz?

She loved when he’d given her that nickname. Remembered the day clearly. She’d never been called that before.

She exhaled slowly and looked into his deep blue eyes, fighting the urge to lean down and kiss him. Knowing that she’d never give in to that urge. Yes, Grant?

Um, you have a... you missed... it kind of... He lifted his hand, almost touching her breast.

Mortification settled in.

The shampoo had squirted right onto her breast. Exactly over her nipple. And she’d been so into him she hadn’t even noticed.

Chelsea ran her thumb over it, embarrassed that her nipple perked and pebbled under her touch and his penetrating gaze. She gave him a sheepish grin.

Thanks. For noticing. For the daydream. For telling me.

Amusement—and something else—flickered in his eyes. You didn’t say yes. He reminded her that she hadn’t answered his question about going out.

Was he taking pity on her because she didn’t have a life? Because all she did was sit at home after work, night in, night out and read those stories about hot highlanders claiming their willing women? About werewolves taking a bride and making her one of their own?

She lathered him up and a blush rose to her cheeks at the thought of the story she was currently reading. A book about a girl like her who fell in love with a sexy alien who was on Earth to abduct her. Except the alien fell in love with her, and instead of stealing her for his people’s evil intentions, he ran away with her and started a new life.

She sighed without realizing it at first, and rinsed the shampoo suds out. Of course she wouldn’t say no to Grant. Even if his reasons for asking weren’t necessarily the same as hers for accepting. She could use a friend in town, other than her boss Mae.

Mae kept telling her if she had a better car, she could go into the city. It was only an hour away, and she could make friends her own age, and date, and stuff like that. Mae didn’t know that Chelsea used her car as an excuse because Chelsea didn’t really want any of those things.

Chelsea avoided high-population areas. And she didn’t want any other man than Grant. The only man she’d wanted since she’d first laid eyes on him. Talk about setting your sights too high.

Oh well.

I’ll go with you. Chelsea reached for the conditioner, careful not to get any on herself, careful not to rub her breasts in his face.

His expression lit up with a smile that showed off perfect white teeth, and made her think about what he could do with those teeth—and that mouth.

Her face warmed once more. She really was in a sexual drought. If she hadn’t been head over heels for him, she’d have found a way to alleviate the drought.

She raised the stream of water, rinsing out the conditioner, patted his head with a towel. Because he kept his hair short, towel-drying was an easy feat.

She led the way to her chair. Having small talk was limited because of Lana’s proximity. That and Lana’s constant leaning toward Chelsea’s station meant there was no privacy.

Chelsea wrapped up his haircut, a five-minute job that she stretched into fifteen just so she could keep her hands on him, even if it was only his head.

Let me blow it dry? It’s chilly outside. You don’t want to go out and catch a cold.

Chapter Five

Grant laughed. I didn’t take you for the superstitious type. Colds are caused by viruses, not by temperature.

That’s not superstition. Chelsea smiled back.

So you believe in things you can’t see?

Mae glanced up from the desk in the reception area.

He knew she could hear him.

She gave him a look, as if to question what his reason was for asking that, as if to question his wisdom.

He shook his head, one shake, almost imperceptible, and turned back to the luscious, curvy, light-brown-haired woman next to him. Well, Chelz?

I believe in a lot of things. Her smile held a secret.

He hoped he’d get a chance to learn it.

How about Friday at seven? I’ll pick you up at your place. He didn’t need to ask her where her place was. She rented a room from Mae.

The salon fell silent.

Everyone turned toward the door.

Grant looked to see what had garnered their attention.

Jeff Landers.

Grant bristled. The instinct to resort to violence rose in his bear. He picked up a scent of fear that carried over from Chelsea. Clearly she didn’t care for the land developer. He could understand dislike, but why was she transmitting fear? Why was she afraid of him?

Jeff let the door close with a slam, ignored Mae’s greeting and strode straight for Chelsea’s station. I hope I’m not late. His voice had an arrogant twist to it.

He glanced at Grant, locked eyes with him. Have you given my offer any consideration? You have far more land than you need. The community would benefit from an amusement park in Bear Canyon Valley. You’re the only one keeping this community from its prosperous dream.

Grant fought back the derisive laughter that rose in his throat. The only one who thought that this community needed an amusement park to kill its tranquility and run its residents off was Jeff Landers.

I think I’ll keep my land. Grant walked by the man, noting that he stood in such a way that Grant had to make a concerted attempt to walk around him, or he’d run into him.

Grant opted for the latter and bumped shoulders with Jeff.

Jeff was no slouch, probably reaching six foot, but he winced when Grant shoulder-bumped him. He turned to Chelsea. I’m hoping you have an opening. I didn’t make an appointment.

Behind them, Mae cleared her throat. You really should have made an appointment.

Since when do I need one? Jeff looked over Mae’s head at Grant, his eyes glinting his defiance and insolence. So do I get my haircut, or not? He glared at them, then softened his gaze as his eyes landed on Chelsea.

Grant gave Mae a pointed look.

She shook her head slightly.

Too bad, because he would have liked to have permission to take Jeff’s impertinence and petulance outside for a lesson.

I’ll take care of this. Mae took Grant’s bicep and guided him toward the door.

Behind them, Chelsea was saying, Sure, I can help you out, Jeff. Her voice was stilted and forced, much like her smile.

Grant waved to her. See you Friday.

Chapter Six

Chelsea cringed.

Grant saying that out loud made Jeff’s eyes narrow.

She hadn’t wanted to help the rich developer. She could tell he had a cruel streak, and he had his sights on her. Why that was, she had no idea. Maybe it was to make Lana jealous. They used to date. That was probably it.

Either way, he tipped a hundred dollars every time he visited, and she wanted to get him in the chair before Mae’s temper flared. Mae made it no secret that she didn’t care for Jeff. You’d think he’d learn his lesson and go to the city for his haircuts. He worked in the city, so why he came here... Yeah, probably to make Lana jealous. Chelsea bet she’d been right to begin with.

She wondered why Jeff’s appointments always managed to coincide with Grant’s. Even Jeff’s walk-ins coincided with Grant’s.

Jeff’s predatory glances and his way-too-familiar touches on her arms, neck, and shoulders made her cringe inwardly. She fought to keep Mae from seeing how revolting she found his advances. He reminded her of a man she’d like to leave in the past forever. A man with a truly horrible cruel streak.

His expression stern, Jeff sat in the seat. What’s this about Friday?

Nothing, Chelsea mumbled. Telling him anything about it would serve no purpose. She wasn’t into playing head games and pitting men against each other. And she wasn’t even remotely interested in Jeff.

She made quick work of washing, rinsing, and cutting his hair. She didn’t offer to dry it, but he asked for a dry.

She looked at Mae.

Mae nodded.

So she complied, and did it cheerfully, although half-heartedly. Admittedly, the cheerful part was faked.

Today was Wednesday. Tomorrow was her early day. She could go into the city for a new outfit for her date with Grant on Friday. That would be nice. She wondered if she could find something slimming that would accentuate the right curves, and hide the wrong ones. She glanced up at Lana as she took the smock off of Jeff. Lana’s slim figure was a mirror that reflected Chelsea’s indulgences in guilty pleasures, particularly dark chocolate.

She glanced away from Lana and looked at Jeff. Thank you, Jeff. See you next time.

Say, Chelsea? His voice was loud. Too loud. It made her uncomfortable. What would you say to going out with me?

Chelsea glanced at Mae. Mae’s eyes narrowed at his words.

I don’t think that would be a good idea, Jeff. Chelsea rubbed her palms on her too-tight jeans, unaware she was transmitting her nervousness. I thank you, though. I’m flattered. Not exactly, since she didn’t trust him, and something about him made her very nervous. Plus it was clear that he and Grant did not get along. Was Jeff doing this to get to Grant?

Jeff’s jaw clenched, and his knuckles gripped the banister on the way toward the reception desk. I wish you’d reconsider, he said through clenched jaws.

Can I think about it? She hoped that would appease him, get him to stop, maybe even go away.

What’s to think about? A down-and-out, broke hairdresser would turn down a successful man like me? Do you know who I am?

Chelsea didn’t want to look at Mae, fearful that Mae was upset by the drama. She’d been so kind to give Chelsea a job here. Chelsea didn’t want to be responsible for a scene in her friend’s place of business. Please, Jeff, lower your voice. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Of course. Saturday?

Hell, no. His voice was a nasal, offended hiss. Hell, no. I don’t want his seconds. Tonight. I’ll pick you up at closing time.

It’ll be late, and I won’t have time to change. Maybe another—

I’ll be here tonight. You look fine. He spun on his heel, threw a bill on the counter, and with a hasty, Keep the change, he stormed out.

Chelsea stared after him, aghast. Now what? She had put herself in a bad position. She wanted nothing to do with him. And she didn’t trust him. And he wanted to get revenge of some sort on Grant. And she liked Grant. Okay, okay, she really liked Grant.

Chelsea sighed. Feeling eyes on her, she turned, catching Mae’s squinting, narrowed glance. Chelsea grimaced at the expression on Mae’s face.

I’m sorry... she started to explain, to tell Mae she didn’t want drama. She didn’t want to bring problems to Mae and didn’t want them in her own life. She’d had enough of drama and avoided it at all costs now. She avoided it as much as she avoided the attention of strangers and the law.

You shouldn’t have done that. Mae’s voice was bitter.

I didn’t mean to upset him. I know, I should have accepted the first time he asked, I—

You should have done no such thing. That’s not what I meant at all. Mae put her arm around Chelsea. You are not obligated to go out with anyone, whether they’re clientele or not.

A sob rose in Chelsea’s throat at the woman’s kindness. She hadn’t felt this kind of acceptance since...

She couldn’t remember the last time.

Chapter Seven

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. It was almost closing time, and already dark outside.

Mae cleared her throat.

Chelsea looked up at her, wondering what she was going to say, hoping that Mae hadn’t changed her mind and wasn’t going to tell her she didn’t need any drama with her clientele and that Chelsea would have to leave the salon. Forever.

I want you to feel free to cancel with Jeff and Grant.

Oh, no! Chelsea’s reaction was swift, catching her off guard. I mean... well, I...

Spit it out, she told herself.

It’s not easy to say it out loud.

She wanted to go out with Grant. She wanted a lot more than that. She thought of his hard body, his wide chest and expansive shoulders. A warmth flooded her body, starting in her chest, rising to her cheeks. How she hated that the blushing came so easily.

A thought occurred to Chelsea. Maybe this was Mae’s way of saying that she didn’t want Chelsea to go out with either man. For all Chelsea knew, Mae liked Grant in that way. And she didn’t want to interfere with that.

Anyway, she looked at the other woman. Mae was a stunning, curvy woman with flashing, almost-black eyes and a tan that seemed to last year-round. Chelsea didn’t think her pale rose coloring could compete with Mae’s vivid complexion and features.

Maybe Grant was asking the wrong woman out, and Chelsea should back out gracefully and let his courtship with Mae take its course. But... how would she handle that? How could she handle watching Grant and Mae date?

Chelsea? Mae was patting her shoulder. What were you saying? You were going to say something?

A wave of sadness and reluctance washed over Chelsea. She shook her head, resigned to what she had to do. No. Nothing. I was just agreeing with you. I shouldn’t date your—our—clientele. It’s bad business. I’m sorry. She looked down at the black tiled floor, littered with cut hair. I should sweep.

Chelsea didn’t look back at the other woman. She slipped away to the back room, allegedly for the broom, but mostly to allow herself to regain her composure. She didn’t want anyone else to see how upset she was.

So much for the shopping trip for something nice to wear on a date with Grant. She sighed, the sound more like a ragged breath torn from her body. Maybe she’d make the drive into the city tomorrow anyway, treat herself to a meal and some dark chocolate—yum—and even get herself a new outfit. Forget all these pipe dreams about someone like Grant being interested in her.

For now, she had to get out of two dates. Somehow. She should ask Mae for their phone numbers. Then she should call Grant and Jeff and cancel.

She made short work of cooling down while she swept the floor. She was so absentminded, that she not only swept her station and the immediate area around it, she swept the whole shop.

She put the broom back and returned to her station.

Feel better? Mae smiled her dazzling smile.

Chelsea nodded. Do you think I could get Grant’s and Jeff’s numbers so I can call and cancel?

Are you sure that’s what you want to do? Mae gave her a look of concern.

Chelsea was overwhelmed by the woman’s kindness and patience. She nodded. Positive. But she didn’t feel positive. She felt like she’d been on a boat that had sunk and had plunged her into the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean.

You know, if Jeff’s bothering you, we can call the police.

Chelsea gasped. No.

Mae’s head snapped up at the loudness of Chelsea’s tone. Okay. She nodded in a reconciliatory way, as if to calm Chelsea.

Chelsea hadn’t meant to be so loud. She’d been caught off guard. That was the last thing she needed, calling the police. How could she stay off the grid if they called the police in and they happened to check on her? There would be a paper or cyber trail if anyone looked into her background.

Mae stepped behind the desk and touched the keyboard behind a monitor. She clicked, then clicked again. Well, we don’t have Grant’s number on file. You’ll have to tell him in person. She took a piece of paper and a pen, wrote something. Here’s Jeff’s.

Thank you. Chelsea gave her a huge hug. I’m glad I met you.

It’s mutual.

You two are so cutely sentimental. Lana’s whiny voice came from behind them.

A sound of disgust, almost a small growl, came from Mae. Chelsea studied Mae. Did she not like Lana? Why had she hired her, and why did she keep her, if she didn’t?

Chelsea slipped to the phone in the back to call Jeff in private. She didn’t want Mae to hear that conversation. She tapped the numbers into the handheld and put it to her ear.

It gave the ‘disconnected’ sound.

Great, just great.

She tried again. The same thing. Shoot. So, now what? She walked to the front of the salon.

Mae looked up from the closing paperwork. Are you okay?

Um—yes. Yes, I’m fine. She gulped air in. It’s all taken care of. She hoped Mae wouldn’t ask for details. That would mean lying to her and Chelsea already felt bad about her lie of omission. Saying that things were taken care of bothered her. She looked away and busied herself with arranging products on the shelves and dusting.

She hoped that Jeff wouldn’t stop by while Mae was still there. Oh, jeez. What would she do if he did?

Mae shut down the computer, put the ledger away and slipped the cash in a bank bag. All I have left to do is assemble a product order so it’s ready to call in tomorrow morning. She rubbed her temples. Long day.

Chelsea jumped on the opportunity. I’ll do that. Let me. I’ll need something to do tonight. She tried for a cheery smile.

And prayed that she could shuffle Mae out before Jeff appeared. If he appeared.

She feared he would, so she had to get Mae out. She put her arm around the stunning brunette, and guided her to the door.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me. Mae laughed.

Chelsea let out forced laughter, hoping it didn’t sound fake. She helped Mae with her coat and held the door open for her. Go put your feet up and relax.

Mae gave her a curious look, as if she might be suspicious, but not very. I may do that. And watch a movie I recorded last week.

Chelsea locked the door behind her boss and proceeded to sort out the shampoos, conditioners, and styling products, noting which ones needed to be purchased on an order form for Mae.

She glanced at the clock on the wall.

Eight o’clock.

She’d been at it for an hour, and no Jeff. She breathed a sigh of relief, put her coat and a scarf on, shoved her cell phone in her coat pocket, and opened the door.

Chapter Eight

Chelsea shivered as she pulled the door shut. She tested it to be sure it was locked. It was one of those kinds of doors you didn’t need a key to lock from the outside. You opened it, set the lever, then let it close, and ta-daa, it was locked.

She tested it again with a vigorous tug. Definitely locked. One more time to be sure, she tugged, and at the same time cursed her compulsion to double-check things. How irritating. Worse than being superstitious.

She tugged the coat around her body, wishing she’d found one her size when she’d gone to the secondhand store, but thankful that she’d found this one, even if it was too snug to button all the way up. If only she could drop a couple pounds—okay, maybe a few more than a couple.

She turned around, gasped, fell back. Jeff.

He’d been standing right behind her. Too close. Almost touching. And now he was right in front of her. It was far too intimate, and way too uncomfortable.

I tried to call you— she started, then paused, immediately wishing she hadn’t said that because she didn’t want to set him off.

Why? He raised a brow. His face, though handsome, had a look to it that made her want to back away—no, run away. Brutality was his prevalent expression.

She tried to back up, but found herself pressed against the door. She scrambled for an answer to his question. I don’t feel so well. I was trying to reach you to cancel...

He clenched his jaw, his eyes squinting in the light reflected off the snow. Around them the rest of the parking lot was deserted, snow unmarked by tire tracks.

Unmarked by tire tracks? Where was his car? If there were no tracks...

She shivered. That meant he’d been there for a while.

I never got a call. His voice was more chilled than the night air.

She shrugged, mostly for show. It wasn’t a working number. I’m sorry.

So you’d like to postpone? A rain check?

She hadn’t actually said that, she’d said cancel, but she didn’t want to get into it with him on this very cold, damp night. The weatherman had said there’d be more snow, so the last thing she needed was to be out here with Jeff, and away from her place.

Yes, if that’s okay with you? She would say yes now, and get out of it later.

Friday night, he said with a smirk.

She knew he was trying to bait her. He’d heard her accept Grant’s offer. Now he was putting her in a bad place. Well, uh... maybe, we—

What’s the problem, Chelz? His voice had a sinister quality to it, and his eyes were menacing.

And he used Grant’s nickname for her.

A shiver ran its course through her body, a shiver that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold. She glanced up and down the lonely street, all the storefronts dark, no houses on this road—a road that was more for tourists than locals. Only the streetlights offered company, standing like blind sentinels, offering little light and even less comfort.

She crossed her arms over her chest to stave off the shivers. I don’t know. Can we talk tomorrow? It’s cold.

Sure. Let me give you a ride home? Or we could drive into the city and grab a latte?

Yeah, right.

The last thing she wanted to do was be trapped in a car with him. I’m feeling poorly. Do you mind if... not? She sidestepped in an attempt to walk around him.

Jeff put his hand on her arm, his grip like a vise. I think you... He paused, a smile she didn’t care for crossing his face. Fine. Have a good night. Mind if I wait until you pull out so that I can be sure you got on the road without a problem?

She frowned, hesitating. It was nice of him to offer to make sure she got on the road safely, but...

I won’t follow you home. But you should know this: if I wanted to know where you live—I am a realtor, after all.

She held back an eyeroll. She didn’t work on the books. She was just renting a room. No one should know where she lived unless she or Mae had told them. She was off the grid and happy about Mae’s discretion. She’d asked Mae when she moved in to keep things private, not because of Jeff, but it was working out for the best. Chelsea wasn’t ready to turn one problem in for another.

She pointedly looked at his hand on her arm. He removed it with a flourish, as if it was a grand gesture on his part.

Without a backward glance, Chelsea chirped her car unlocked and jumped into the freezing vehicle, wincing when her backside touched the cold seat.

She jammed her foot on the brake and her finger into the start button of her Altima.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

She did it again.

Still nothing.

Shit, she muttered under her breath. Shit and damn.

She glanced out the windshield at the vehicle nearby, headlights on.

Jeff.

Waiting.

Chapter Nine

C ome on, dammit. As if talking to the car would make any difference. She slammed her foot onto the brake and at the same time pressed the start button.

Again nothing.

What. The. Fuck. She could wait. She could wait it out. Go inside and wait there. Maybe call Mae, see if she could give her a ride. Or she could sleep in the shop, in the waiting area, where it was warm and there was a row of seats she could squeeze herself across. That’s exactly what she would do.

A sharp rap on the windshield made her jump—felt like actually jumping out of her skin, that’s what it felt like.

She snapped her head to the left, and fought the disappointment from showing.

Through the glass, Jeff raised his voice. "You okay? You’re not moving the car. And it’s a