Bearback Lumberjack (Paranormal Dating Agency) Read online

  Bearback

  Lumberjack

  A Paranormal Dating Agency Story

  Liv Brywood

  Bearback Lumberjack

  Paranormal Dating Agency

  Copyright 2018 Liv Brywood

  Published by MT Worlds Press, Inc.

  Winter Springs, FL 32708

  http://mtworldspress.com

  Formatting by Celtic Formatting

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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

  http://mtworldspress.com

  Angela

  I can’t stand living in the city. I need a man who knows how to use his wood. A lumberjack would be perfect. The matchmaker’s sending me deep into the forest to meet one. His pictures are panty-dropping hot, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s either a serial killer, or a man who understands what it’s like to lose love. Either way, I’m going to find out.

  Jagger

  My brother won’t stop bitching at me about finding a mate. To appease him, I’ve agreed to let some woman stay with me. Two weeks. I only have to endure two weeks, then I’m getting rid of her. But when I see her for the first time, my bear loses its mind. She might be my mate, but I’m too scared to fall in love again. She wants a man who can handle her curves. I want a woman who doesn’t want strings. It’s up to fate to decide our destiny.

  One

  Angela

  I can’t believe I’m on my way to see a matchmaker. The traffic on I-5 is a total nightmare. It’s L.A. If there wasn’t total gridlock on the freeway, I’d think the apocalypse had finally happened. The jerk who’s been tailgating me for the last mile is getting on my last nerve. It’s almost ninety degrees, my A/C is broken, and if I have to inhale another lung-full of carbon monoxide, I’m going to scream.

  I need to get out of the city. My best friend Talia told me about Gerri Wilder. She’s a matchmaker for shifters. Since I haven’t met anyone worth dating in years, I’m willing to give her a try. Apparently, she’s the best in the business. She’s matched more mates than anyone else because she can see right through a person’s bullshit. At least that’s what Talia said. I hope she’s right.

  I arrive ten minutes late to the Beverly Hills Hotel. After tossing my keys at the valet, I rush through the expansive, marble-floored lobby. Gerri’s waiting for me in the lounge. When she stands to greet me, I’m surprised by her petite stature. I’m only 5’2”, but I’ve got at least three inches on her. Her white hair swings in a stylish bob. Her bright blue eyes sparkle with joy.

  “You must be Angela,” she says.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic.”

  “It will get you every time. Please, sit. I’m having pinot noir. What would you like to drink?” she asks as she waves the bartender over.

  “Oh, I really shouldn’t. It’s not even noon yet.”

  “It’s afternoon in New York, so that’s good enough for me.”

  The bartender arrives. I rarely drink anything let alone this early, but I don’t want to look uptight. Besides, maybe it will help me relax.

  “I’ll have a Chardonnay.”

  “Very good, Madam.” The bartender hurries off to pour a huge glass full. When he returns, he asks, “Can I bring a plate of hors d’oeuvres?”

  “Yes,” Gerri says with enough emphasis to keep me from arguing. “Do you have any finger sandwiches?”

  “Of course. I’ll have the chef whip something special up for you Ms. Wilder.”

  “Excellent, Carl. Thank you.”

  I’m impressed that she knows the man’s name.

  “So, tell me why you’re single,” she says.

  “Oh, I, um…”

  “There are millions of people in L.A., and yet you haven’t found love. Why?” Gerri settles back into the plush chair and crosses one leg over the other. Her flowy yellow skirt rides up exposing a good deal of thigh.

  “I… the men here aren’t… men.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.” I avert my gaze because hers is so intense. “I want a man who knows how to do manly things like fix a broken sink, find out why my car won’t start when it’s hot outside, chop wood, you know, man things.”

  “You want a lumberjack.”

  “No.” Heat burns my cheeks. “Okay, yes. I want out of L.A. I hate the city. It’s too crowded, smoggy, smelly, and I feel totally cut off from nature. My bear hates living here.”

  “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?” she asks.

  “In the woods. Somewhere deep in the forest. Far away from civilization. A place where I could have a garden, and hear birds chirping, and maybe have a goat.”

  “A goat?”

  “I’ve been watching all these online videos about goats. They are so cute. I want one.”

  “You’d be happy to do all the work involved with raising farm animals?”

  “Yes.” A smile spreads across my face. “I don’t mind getting dirty. I’m not afraid to break a nail or chip a manicure. I just want to get out of the rat-race and get back to what’s really important in life.”

  “And what’s that?” Gerri asks.

  “Friends. Family. Other people. I live in a city filled with people, but I feel like I don’t really know anyone. I don’t even know my neighbor’s names.”

  “Did you grow up here?”

  “Yes. But, I’ve always dreamed of moving away. When I go on vacation, I go to the Midwest where I can run through forests, or cornfields, or work on a dude ranch.”

  “You went to a dude ranch?”

  “Last summer. I’ve never been so tired or dirty in my life, but I loved every second of it. I was planning on going back this year, but Talia suggested I wait to make plans. She said you might want me to stay in town to meet potential mates.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t take the time off yet,” Gerri says. “I do want you to spend two weeks with a mate. I have the perfect man for you.”

  “Really?” I sit up straight and for the first time in years, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

  “His name is Jagger.”

  “Like Jägermeister?”

  “Almost. Jagger has two ‘g’s’. He’s a new client. I flew out to interview him last week. He lives in Colorado right outside of Rocky Mountain National Park. You’ll fly into Boulder, Colorado and I’ll have a car waiting for you.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that, I can rent something.”

  “I insist. Jaggar is a great man, but he might take a few days to warm up to you. So it’s best if you stay with him for two weeks to see how things go.”

  “Two weeks? In his house?” Is she crazy?

  “He’s perfectly safe. I vetted him thoroughly, as I do with all of my clients. He’s a special case. He’s very set in his ways, and although he does want to find love, he’s wary of new people.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “He wouldn’t tell me exactly why, but I think he’s been hurt in the past. I think you’ll really like him once he opens up to you. And you’re going to love his property. He owns fifty acres right next to the park, so you can shift and run your bear all over the forest.�
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  “Is he a bear shifter too?”

  “A black bear, like you.”

  “Perfect.” I sit back, relieved that he’s not a grizzly. Those bears can get crazy. I dated one, years ago, and he ended up being a total psycho.

  The hors d’oeuvres arrive. The finger sandwiches are adorable. Bite-sized egg salad; cucumber with cream cheese; and ham, brie, and apple. I want to stuff all of them into my face at once, but I follow Gerri’s lead and only eat one at a time.

  “These are amazing,” I say.

  “Wait until you try the macaroons.”

  As if on cue, Carl arrives with a plate of adorable macaroons. They look like two little cookies with frosting holding them together. I quickly find out that it’s not frosting. The orange are held together by marmalade; the purple, by blackberry; and the pink, by strawberry preserves. I’m going to gain at least five pounds just looking at them, but who cares. Jaggar will either like me or he won’t. I’ve got nothing to lose at this point.

  After we eat our way through half of each plate, I lean back.

  “I can’t eat another bite. That was so good.”

  “I’ll have them wrapped up and sent to my room for later,” Gerri says. “Now, when can you take time off from work?”

  “The end of the month is the best time. We’re not as busy.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Is there anything else I should know? It feels a bit strange going up to some guy’s house in the woods, alone.”

  “It’s perfectly safe,” Gerri says. “I’ve met with him and talked to all of his friends, family, and his employer.”

  “What kind of job does he do?”

  “Lumberjack.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I can’t explain exactly why I know you’ll be a good match, but I know what I know. You’ll have to trust me on this. Remember, he might need some time to warm up to you, but he will. I’d bet my business on it.”

  “I guess it’s worth a shot.”

  “You won’t regret it.” Gerri stands and offers me her hand. I shake it.

  “Thank you.”

  “Call me anytime, night or day. I’m always available to anyone who’s trying to find their perfect mate.”

  I walk out of the lounge with more hope than I’ve had in years. This could be it. If Gerri’s as good as everyone says she is, then maybe Jagger will be a good mate. There’s only one way to find out. It’s easily the craziest thing I’ve ever done for love, but if nothing else, spending two weeks alone in the woods with a lumberjack will be an adventure.

  ***

  It’s been two weeks since I met Gerri. I’m being driven in a Jeep Renegade, bouncing along an unpaved, pot-hole dotted road on the way to Jagger’s house in the woods. After the first half-hour of turns, I’ve completely lost all sense of direction. I really hope he’s not a psycho because if he is, I’ll never figure out how to get back to the main road. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. If Talia and Gerri hadn’t been so insistent, I would never have agreed to something like this. I trust them. I just hope my trust isn’t misplaced.

  Towering pine trees reach toward a cerulean blue sky. Fresh air flows in through open windows. I can’t get enough of the scents of the forest. My bear is losing her mind. She’s already tried to make me shift twice. It’s been hell trying to keep her under control. Hopefully Jagger will want to shift so our bears can meet right away. If not, he might end up meeting her anyway.

  As I round a bend, the tree line breaks to reveal a stunning meadow. Wildflowers dance along both sides of the road. Several deer scamper through long, billowing grass. I’m so transfixed by the animals that I almost don’t notice the stunning home until I’m a few hundred yards away.

  The house is a series of connected structures, as if they were all added to the main cabin at some point. A huge porch encircles the front of the house, while several balconies overlook the landscape from the second floor. The land around the house is wide open but for a few scattered pine trees.

  Behind the main house, there’s a sparkling blue pond with a smaller boathouse. The entire façade of all of the structures is covered in logs, as if they truly were log cabins, but I suspect that’s not the case inside. I can’t wait to see what the fireplace looks like, because the chimney is an impressive tower of river rock.

  “This is his house?” I can’t keep the shock from my tone.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” the driver says.

  “Unbelievable.”

  I’d been expecting a small cabin surrounded by trees. This is a freaking mansion surrounded by meadows, a huge pond, and more acres than I can count.

  As we pull up to the rocky driveway, the front door opens. The man who steps out is at least 6’2” and huge. His arms are like tree limbs; his legs like tree trunks. He’s wearing faded blue jeans and a lumberjack-style plaid shirt. Thick work boots cover his feet. Please, please let this be him.

  The SUV stops. I push open the door and step out. The man saunters down the steps to greet me.

  “You must be Angela.” His voice is deep, rumbly, and sexier than any man’s voice should ever be. My bear’s instantly awake and drooling.

  “Yes. Jagger?”

  “Yeah. Can I get your bag?”

  “Bags. Thank you.”

  The driver opens the trunk and begins to haul suitcases out. Jagger frowns.

  “You realize you’re only staying for two weeks, right?” he asks.

  “Right. I wasn’t sure what to pack. I’ve never spent a lot of time in the mountains before and I wanted to be prepared.”

  “We’re not camping,” he says.

  “I know.” I bite the edge of my lip as his frown deepens. I have a tendency to overpack, but I didn’t know what to expect, so I packed almost everything in my closet.

  The driver grabs two bags. Jagger grabs two more and we walk toward the porch steps. Twin lavender plants fill the air with their calming scent. On the porch, several log-style rocking chairs, as well as a wood-planked bench sit beneath an A-framed roof.

  When Jagger pushes open the door, my breath catches. We step directly into the kitchen. It’s massive. Almost every surface is covered in blonde wood. Black granite countertops cover the sink and the island. A raised countertop and wooden barstools make it easy to hang out and watch while someone’s cooking. Copper pendant lights illuminate the kitchen in a soft, warm glow.

  One corner has bookshelves and cabinets. I walk over and peruse the cookbooks. It’s a great blend of classics, as well as fast and easy recipe books. There are even slow cooker options. My personal favorite, because who wants to slave over a hot stove all day? Not me.

  “Double ovens!”

  He smiles for the first time since we met.

  “A kitchen without a double oven just isn’t right,” he says. “How am I supposed to cook pizza and cookies at the same time?”

  I might be in love already.

  “Your room’s just down the hall. I figure you might want some time to rest.”

  “That would be great. I flew direct from LAX, but flying is exhausting.”

  “I’ve never been on a plane.”

  “Never?”

  “Nope. Never left Colorado. No reason to leave when it’s already perfect here.”

  “If I lived here, I’d never leave.” I want to slap my hand over my mouth. Talk about presumptuous.

  His face goes blank.

  “Anyway, you’re room’s down the hall.”

  I silently chide myself as I trail behind him. As we pass the formal dining room, I stop to gawk at the floor to ceiling windows. The vaulted ceilings and enormous windows lets the beauty of nature inside. In the distance, huge, snow-capped mountain peaks surround the valley. I could live in a place like this. There isn’t another human in sight. No traffic. No smog. It’s glorious.

  The fireplace sits in the center of a cozy living room. Its stone façade is as beautiful as the river rocks outside. The mantle is a polished log. Cast iron figur
ines of bears, wolves, and elk are situated across it in no particular order.

  The hall is lined with built-in bookshelves. I nearly swoon at the collection. Everything’s organized by genre, then alphabetically by author. He reads. By the looks of it, a lot. Bookmarks stick out of several books. I stop to read some of the titles.

  “Coming?” he asks.

  “Your library is amazing.”

  “That isn’t the library.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “No. I’ll show it to you after you’ve had time to rest.”

  The room he shows me is adorable. Exposed wood beams, log cabin-style walls, and a wood floor give it a rustic feel, but it’s decorated with softer touches. An intricate rose and cream-colored quilt covered the queen-sized bed. Faux cow hide lamps on either side of the bed would definitely help me read at night. I can’t sleep until I’ve finished at least a chapter of whatever I’m currently reading.

  A wood fire stove sits atop a layer of bricks. French doors lead to a balcony, which overlooks the huge pond. It’s not quite a lake, but there are canoes sitting on a rack next to the boathouse. I can’t wait to go investigate the rest of the property.

  “The bathroom’s over here,” he says.

  I walk into the en suite. A claw-foot tub sits in one corner. A huge mirror hangs over dual sinks. There’s a shower in the opposite corner from the tub. I highly doubt I’ll use it, because there’s no way I won’t spend as much time as possible soaking in the tub. The window next to it has a great view of the mountains.

  “Dinner’s at seven. Have a good nap.”

  I turn to thank him, but he’s already closing the door to the room. His footsteps drift down the hall.

  He seems nice enough, but I can’t help but be a bit disappointed. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I’d hoped he’d at least want to spend some time getting to know me. Maybe he’s just trying to be a gentleman and let me rest. I don’t know. But, I’ll be here for two weeks, so there’s no point in rushing things. If it’s meant to be, it will be. I can’t control fate, but I really want to find love.