Page 8 of Flare (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters #17)

The Girl He Never Got Over

Ward was carefully aligning the first shelf of a custom-built bookcase when his phone chimed with an incoming text message.

Maggie : Emily arrived safe & sound late last night. Grandma Elle gave her sanctuary and invited her to Sunday dinner. Remember that creep Andrew Brunborn and my Date from Hell? Well, guess who Emily ’ s ex is?

You ’ ve gotta be fucking kidding me . Ward stared hard at his phone.

He—and everyone else in the clan—remembered when Grandma Elle had formally trespassed Brunborn from the Swanson clan ’ s land. Men should never lay hands on a woman without her consent.

Ward : Emily got mixed up with Brunborn? WTF?

Maggie : Long story short—he hired her at his company. I ’ ll tell you the whole story when you get back. Just thought I ’ d give you a heads-up.

I know you ’ re in Missoula today and tomorrow for that custom bookcase job, but you ’ ll be at Grandma ’ s on Sunday, right?

Ward : Hell yeah, I ’ m gonna to be there.

He paused and wondered if he ’ d given “ Matchmaker Maggie” too much information. Fuck . He typed a quick addendum.

Ward : I ’ m on kitchen cleanup duty, remember? Grandma ’ s gonna blow a gasket if I ghost her.

Grandma Elle had long ago instituted a lottery system in the family for Sunday dinner. Every week, she drew names to assign the various tasks. This week, it was Ward ’ s turn to handle the dishes.

Maggie : Me too. I got pots & pans. We ’ ll talk then.

In a daze, Ward picked up the next board of reclaimed century-old mahogany, then walked back to his table saw to cut the next shelf.

Emily ’ s back! And I ’ m going to see her on Sunday.

∞∞∞

Grizzly Creek Ranch Sunday, May 10

Ward hadn ’ t been able to stop thinking about Emily since receiving Maggie ’ s text messages on Friday morning.

He ’ d finished up his Missoula job this morning in time to race home to his cottage in Bearpaw Ridge. There, he ’ d showered, trimmed his beard, and changed into his nicest shirt before heading over to the ranch.

Now, his pickup bounced over the last section of dirt road leading from the highway to Grandma Elle ’ s house.

Sunday dinner was a Swanson clan tradition. Everyone in the family led busy lives, and these weekly gatherings were a chance to catch up and to discuss clan business.

Grandma Elle made an exception for clan members who worked weekends or lived out of state, like Ward ’ s smokejumper Uncle Thor in Denver or Uncle Evan the wildlife biologist, who spent his summers doing fieldwork in remote corners of the state.

Ward and his bear both perked up when he spotted an unfamiliar blue Subaru wagon parked next to Aunt Annabeth ’ s RAV4. The Subie looked dusty, and the windshield was coated with dead bugs and highway grime.

He parked his truck next to Uncle Dane ’ s white ranch pickup and bounded up the porch steps. His heart pounded with the refrain of, Emily. Emily. Emily.

The moment he stepped inside, a wall of warmth and noise hit him. The smell of pot roast and garlic-roasted potatoes filled every corner of the house, and multiple loud conversations drifted from the living room.

Ward stopped in the foyer, toed off his shoes, and shrugged off his denim jacket, hanging it on the antique oak rack that had been there forever.

He crossed the hall, stepped through the large cased opening, and saw that the living room was already crowded with his assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins. Most of them were clutching drinks and talking up a storm while waiting for dinner to be served.

Maggie and her mate Cade, a serious-looking bear shifter with old burn scars taut and shiny over his hands and forearms, were sitting together on Grandma Elle ’ s old-fashioned horsehair sofa. Both of them looked up when Ward entered, and Maggie waved.

D.A. was perched on Cade ’ s knees, and the two-year-old was happily telling his dad something about the plastic car clutched in one chubby fist.

Ward waved back, grabbed himself a bottle of beer from the drinks trolley next to the living room entrance, then scanned the packed room for Emily.

He found her standing with her back to him next to the large bay window, talking to Grampa Justin. Justin had his arm around Grandma Elle ’ s waist.

Even from behind, the curve of Emily’s waist and her deliciously round ass punched the breath from his lungs. She was holding a brown beer bottle, and a delicate tennis bracelet set with diamonds glittered on her wrist.

Grandma Elle caught sight of him over Emily ’ s shoulder. An unexpected look of consternation flashed over her expression and vanished almost before he registered it.

“ Hey, Eddie, you remember Emily, don ’ t you?” Grandma ’ s smile looked oddly forced. “ She arrived on Thursday.”

Emily turned to face him, and his world instantly narrowed to focus only on her.

Her blonde hair was shorter now, falling in waves just past her shoulders instead of halfway down her back, and there was a new wariness in her large blue eyes that hadn ’ t been there before.

“ Eddie?” She scanned him, wide-eyed, and he was suddenly glad he ’ d worn his best cowboy shirt, the one with the pearl buttons. “ Wow. It ’ s really you!”

The sound of his name in her voice sent a bolt of electricity straight down his spine.

His heart slammed against his ribs so hard he was certain every shifter in the room could hear it.

He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. He finally managed, “ Hey. It ’ s been a long time, huh? You, ah, look great. Folks around here call me Ward now—too many Eddies in town.”

Ward knew he ’ d just gone from tongue-tied to babbling. He suddenly felt like the insecure kid he ’ d been back in high school.

Then her smile lit up her face, just like it used to. And she opened her arms to him, inviting a hug.

His inner bear, already restless, roared to full awareness. Ward ’ s every sense suddenly heightened.

Eager to take up her invitation, he stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. God, she felt good! Her generous breasts, pressing against his chest, felt every bit as soft as he ’ d imagined in a thousand fevered daydreams. His desire roared up like a bonfire.

And then he smelled it.

Emily ’ s clothing was permeated with the unmistakable scent of an unknown male bear shifter. And it bore the distinctive possessive musk of a mating bond.

It hit him like a physical blow, so unexpected he tensed and actually took a step back, freeing himself from her embrace.

Ward ’ s bear recoiled as well, confused and angry in equal measure. She was ours! And another has claimed her!

Ward saw her bewilderment at his reaction and forced his expression into something neutral. “ Yeah, it ’ s been a while.” He forced himself to smile at her. “ It ’ s, uh, good to see you again.”

She nodded, a shy smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “ Same here. Maggie told me you ’ re a carpenter now? And a firefighter, too?”

“ I volunteer for the fire department, yeah.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, fighting the urge to turn on his heel and march out of the room.

Disappointment tore at his insides, as if he ’ d eaten ground glass. She was mated.

His Emily, the one he ’ d spent all of high school dreaming about, the one whose laugh had haunted him through two failed relationships.

And she belonged to someone else. Someone who clearly didn ’ t deserve her.

Meanwhile, some part of Ward not currently spiraling with disappointment kept talking like a normal human being, thank God.

“ …after graduation, I went to Boise for training—Boise State ’ s got a good tech program for construction management.

Did a two-year trade track at Idaho College of Art & Design while I was there.

Specialized in traditional woodworking, which, uh, got me an internship with Nick Evans up in Montana before the Reviving Snowberry Springs show started.

I fell in love with restoration projects.

Now I bounce between working on new construction for Dad ’ s cousin Tyler, and doing restoration jobs. ”

Too much information, Ward , he told himself. He knew he was babbling.

Inside, his bear paced furiously, snarling against the scent of another male ’ s claim lingering on Emily ’ s skin. Ward fought to maintain a pleasant expression even as his blood simmered and his muscles tensed, and his bear howled he should do something . But what?

She wasn ’ t his. She ’ d never been. And now she never would be.

“ That sounds amazing,” she said. “ I always knew you ’ d do something with your hands.”

“ How about you?” Ward managed. “ Maggie told me you ’ re still living in Spokane.”

He hid a wince as Emily suddenly looked distressed. Fuck .

“ I ’ m done with Spokane.” Emily took a nervous sip from her bottle.

“ Anyway, I ended up getting my business degree from WSU. Was going to go straight into an MBA, but I figured I should work for a few years first, get some experience and save up a bit. I landed a job with a big real estate developer in Spokane a couple of years ago. Seemed like a dream opportunity, but… uh, it didn ’ t work out.

” Her fingers tightened around the bottle.

She looked away, just for a second, before offering him another too-bright smile.

“ So, I ’ m hanging out here while I plan my next move. ”

Ward ’ s jaw clenched. What the fuck had Brunborn done to her? And how the fuck had he claimed Emily as his mate? After what that asshole had tried on Maggie, how was it fair that he ’ d apparently moved onto Emily?

“ Well,” he said, voice rough with the effort of restraint, “ Bearpaw Ridge is lucky to have you back. How long are you planning to stay?”

Before she could answer, Grandma Elle announced, “ Dinner ’ s ready. Everyone to the table.”

Ward let himself be swept along with the tide of family members exiting the living room and heading down the long hallway to the huge dining room at the back of the house.