Mated to the Wilde Bear

Laurel parked and stared through her windshield at the crowd spilling out of Mack’s Brewery. It was barely dinnertime and not
even close to tourist season, but the place crawled with people. No, not people. Shifters, she realized, as the faces filling the
outside eating area came into focus. She’d heard they liked to hang here. It was how she knew where to find them outside office
hours.
And true to the gossip mill, here they all were.
Five men, all of them built and toned and straining against the fabric of their cotton tees with the Blue Bear Search and Rescue
logo printed across the left breast. She knew them all from the DOT meetings she’d sat in on, had spoken to one or two on the
phone even. But she’d never allowed herself this close to them. Xavier’s rescue earlier today was the one and only run-in she’d
had with the Wilde Crew, and it hadn’t been anything like she’d expected.
She’d walked into that rescue determined to remain professional, in control, and politely aloof. Between her chilly demeanor and
the ridiculous amount of perfume she’d sprayed in the car beforehand, she’d hoped it would be enough to keep him from sensing
her animal. If he’d outed her in front of the rescue crews, she would have lost it. Thirteen months she’d lived here and managed
to keep her animal a secret. Outing herself now would have devastated her and possibly cost her a job.
But the perfume had worked. He’d grown more and more curt with her, and by the end, she’d sent him retreating. A funny
outcome, considering he’d almost knocked her over with his dominant alpha when he’d let it rise to the surface. But Laurel
couldn’t laugh. Not when she still felt the spark from their handshake all the way into her bones. And then tingles he’d sent
through her middle, straight between her thighs, with a single look... no, she definitely wasn’t laughing about that.
Xavier Wilde was no laughing matter.
She’d almost prefer never to see him again. When she’d realized she’d missed his signature on the report, she’d been tempted
to delegate it to her assistant, but Laurel was no coward. Besides, if the men in her office found out about her pushing her duties
off on others, she’d never hear the end of it.
Laurel got out of the car and squared her shoulders. In and out, she told herself. Just be quick.
She took the stairs resolutely, bypassing the front entrance and heading straight for the deck. The noise increased as she got
closer, and when she rounded the corner, her breath caught at the sight of him.
Xavier’s navy shirt was tucked, straining against the muscles underneath and accentuating his big biceps. His shaggy brown hair
was messier than it had been earlier. She remembered because she’d spent the better part of the day wondering what it would

feel like to run her hands through it. As if he’d sensed her thoughts, Xavier ran a hand through it himself. He leaned back,
nodding and grinning at the man seated across from him. They both raised their glasses and clinked them together in a quick
toast.
Laurel watched in fascination as his lips touched the mug and he gulped his beer. Lord, he was beautiful.
Laurel shook away the thought and gripped the papers in her hand even tighter. She started forward again.
When she was only a few feet away, Xavier finished draining his glass. He set the empty mug on the table and his gaze leveled
on her. His eyes narrowed fractionally, and again, Laurel stopped in her tracks.