Baby It's Cold Out Bear Holiday Bundle Read online

  All because of her insatiable curiosity.

  Yeah, okay? She wanted to know what he looked like. Obviously, he wouldn’t be some underwear model walking a runway or else he would’ve put a serious selfie on his online profile. Instead, he’d made a joke and put a bear to go with his profile name. She liked that. She did! He had a good sense of humor, and that was important…in a friend, since that was all this was. Coffee with a friend. A friend she liked to imagine was actually a decent guy she could connect with in real life as well as online.

  She’d beat herself up over the last couple of days, but he’d been even more charming and endearing than ever. He just seemed grateful that she’d even meet him for coffee. And besides, this was how it worked, right? She had checked the profile Vona had set up because some part of her must believe in online dating. She’d heard stories before. Lonny McGregory met her husband on one of these sites, and Hadley had read gads of success stories on the Internet about people meeting their matches online, too. If she wasn’t willing to at least meet him once in a public, safe place, then why had she been growing a relationship with the man?

  She tapped the tiny red stirrer for her coffee in quick succession against the table until it likely matched her drumming heartbeat. She’d stayed up late into the night imagining how her coffee date today would go, then woke way too early to pick an outfit. When she’d settled on a black chunky sweater, black leggings, and black boots for this anti-Valentine’s Day shindig, she’d then spent too much time straightening her hair to an unreasonably smooth texture. And to top her look off, she’d slathered on more make-up than she’d ever worn in her life. Why? Because that’s what men liked nowadays, right? Shit. The two cups of coffee before this one had made her jittery, and now her body felt like it was humming. She should’ve switched to decaf.

  Checking her watch for the tenth time, she sighed her acceptance. He wasn’t coming. She’d told him her lunch break was only half an hour thanks to all of the Valentine’s Day orders she needed to ready, and he was now thirty-five minutes late.

  This sucked.

  She’d been stood up, and like an idiot, she just kept waiting for him.

  Her heart sank to the bottom of her new boots, and she bit her lip hard to fight the tears that burned the backs of her eyes. This was supposed to be just a casual thing, but she’d really hoped to meet him. Instead, Bearman28 had hurt her.

  Her phone chirped. She pulled it from her purse, then read the text message Vona had sent her.

  Need you back at the flower shop ASAP.

  Uh oh. That didn’t sound good. She left her unfinished coffee on the table and waved to the owner of the Dash Inn, then bolted for her little hatchback parked out front.

  The flower shop was only five minutes away from the café, but she made it there in four. Thank goodness the weather had cleared and the snow had melted over the last couple of weeks. Her patience with the white, slushy inhibitor had worn as thin as spring ice. She threw the car into park beside what looked like a moving van and bolted inside.

  As soon as she made it through the door, she skidded to a stop and stared at the stacks of red roses piled in neat bundles across the counter.

  “What the hell?” she whispered.

  A delivery guy smiled politely as he exited, and Vona peeked over the floral mountain. “Funny story.” Her eyes narrowed. “Strange story. Two hundred red roses were just delivered, and when I went to sign for them and pay, it seems they have already been taken care of.”

  “By who?”

  “By whoever wrote this note.” Vona handed over a red envelope.

  Stepping around the counter, Hadley tore into the top flap, then pulled out a piece of what looked to be handmade paper.

  All it said was:

  I’m sorry.

  Hadley dropped the letter and scrubbed her hands over her face. Son of a biscuit eater. She wanted to be mad and hurt and feel betrayed, but then Bearman went and did this, and it sucked all of the emotion from her. Now, she didn’t know what to feel.

  With a growl of frustration, she yanked the hose from the wall and began to fill huge plastic buckets of water. Okay, so Bearman had to have known he was going to stand her up because ordering flowers mid-February took some serious favors and time. Yet, he’d acted like nothing was amiss when she’d talked to him last night.

  Vona stood against the counter with her arms crossed, head canted like she could see Hadley’s muddy aura. “What gives, boss lady?”

  Hadley didn’t answer. She wasn’t ready to explain how she was feeling hurt and grateful and angry and happy all at once. The man cared to do something like this. He had to. She’d mentioned the failed order of roses one time to him, and he gifted her with the exact number she needed. Who did that? Who was that thoughtful?

  Who was Bearman28?

  “Can you start calling those folks we had to cancel rose orders for? Tell them plans have changed. We won’t get them all back, but we can try to get as many as possible.”

  Paper crinkled as she moved to water the next drum.

  “He stood you up, didn’t he?” Vona asked, gripping the homemade paper in a clenched hand. “That douche canoe! He did, didn’t he?”

  “Vona—”

  “No, Hadley. That’s not cool. Even this doesn’t make up for standing you up.”

  “I just need you to help me move all of the roses into the refrigerator before they wilt, will you?”

  “I know who he is.”

  Hadley froze. “What?”

  “I told you I know a nerd, and he tracked down Bearman28’s IP address. He doesn’t live in Sheridan, Hadley. He lives here.”

  Shaking her head slowly, Hadley said, “You shouldn’t have done that. It’s a huge violation of his privacy.”

  “Well, I wanted to make sure you were being safe about this all, and besides, I wasn’t going to tell you because I thought he’d at least have the decency to show up to your coffee date.”

  “It wasn’t a date—”

  “Oh, for crap’s sake—it was. You wore ten pounds of eyeliner and a shade of lip gloss I thought I’d never be able to get you to wear. He’s a jerk for standing you up. You look hot.”

  Hadley just froze there, squatted on the floor, staring at the roses. “If he didn’t show up, it’s because he doesn’t want me to know—”

  “Colin Cross.”

  Water splashed all over her boots and she yelled, “Shit!” as she rushed to turn off the hose. “Colin Cross? The mountain man?”

  “Yep,” Vona said, gripping the edge of the counter behind her.

  “Colin, the one who paid for my lunch last month? The man who then ignored me and never even nodded to me on the street after that?”

  “One in the same.”

  Hadley stood up, soggy and bewildered. “Why would he stand me up? And how did he find me online?”

  Vona shrugged and looked worried. “I don’t know, Hadley. I think maybe I messed up by setting up that profile for you, though. This wasn’t how I imagined your dating life would go, and now you got hurt.”

  “Don’t apologize for that, V. You were just trying to help.”

  Hadley stared out the window at the post office where he usually came with a pile of boxes. Colin Cross. Huh. She didn’t know whether to be angry that he’d lied about living in Sheridan or happy that Bearman28 was the man she’d been thinking about. He had to know who she was, right? The coincidence was too big that he’d paid for her lunch, then found her online a few days later. Why hadn’t he introduced himself the dozen times he walked near her store?

  Why not just ask her out like the other guys in town?

  “Vona? Did your friend happen to find out where he lives?”

  Vona narrowed her eyes. “That sounds like the beginning of a terrible idea.”

  ****

  Hadley pressed harder on the gas to get over a steep embankment on the worn, dirt road. In front of the car, evening shadows stretched across the road, highlighting the la
te hour. This was how all the scary movies started. She’d always thought horror movie girls were entirely too stupid for getting in this exact situation, and now what was she doing? Meandering uninvited up to a recluse’s mountain cabin. She clutched a little tighter to the Mace Vona had insisted she bring.

  As she crested a hill, a cabin came into view. It was small, but the yard was tidy, and the leaves raked. A log sat to the side of a porch with an ax sticking out of it, and piles of chopped wood were lined up neatly against the house. To the right of the log structure was a shop that was even bigger than the home. Light illuminated the doorway from the inside, so she parked and picked her way carefully toward the shed.

  Heavy metal music blared from an old radio plugged into an outside outlet, and when she approached the open door, she froze. Colin was standing with his back to her, muscles flexing against a filthy, gray thermal sweater. His shoulders rippled in rhythm to his hammering on metal, glowing gold against an old anvil. Sweat and dirt trickled down the back of his neck where his dark hair had been cropped short. The rhythmic clang, clang of his hammer was offbeat against the music, slower, and he turned and dipped the hot metal into a bucket of water until it sizzled and steamed. With his back still to her, he pulled something off a tool bench and seemed to study it.

  Maybe this had been a bad idea. He obviously liked his privacy up here where he could clobber metal and fix things. She was way overstepping the line by stalking him up here.

  But…

  She couldn’t just leave and not say anything when she was this close.

  “Colin?”

  He spun fast and fixed his eerie eyes on her, and when she looked down, he was holding a knife. With a screech, she lifted the Mace and sprayed. When a cloud of pepper spray filled the space between them, he cursed and dropped the knife. “Geez, woman. What did you do that for?”

  Her eyeballs were on fire. “Owww,” she wailed as she rubbed her eyes and tried to rid herself of the irritant.

  She dropped the Mace and fell to her knees as her eyes watered and burned.

  “This way,” Colin said, lifting her by the ribcage like she weighed nothing at all.

  An old-fashioned pump sat ready on the side of the house, and he jacked the handle until water poured into a bucket. Desperately, they both splashed their faces, rinsing their eyes.

  Finally able to stomach the pain and keep her eyes open, she looked at Colin and snorted a laugh. Clamping her hand over her mouth, she murmured, “Oh my God, this is so not funny.”

  His eyes were all red around the edges, and she could only imagine what kind of eye make-up mishap was happening on her face.

  Colin huffed a laugh, but bless the man, he seemed like he was trying to keep it in. “You maced me.”

  “I maced us both. I thought you were going to stab me.”

  “No.” Colin leaned back on his folded legs and flung water from his fingertips. “I make knives. I’m a blacksmith. I was just holding the one I was working on, and then you sprayed us.”

  “Oh. Well, Vona said you might be a serial killer, so I was prepared. And maybe a little on edge.”

  His shoulders were shaking now as he rubbed water from his beard. “This is not how I imagined this would go.”

  “You stood me up, Bearman.”

  He drew up short and frowned. “You know?”

  Tilting her chin up primly, she said, “I have people. Why didn’t you show up today?”

  His look darkened, and he dropped his gaze to a pile of stones near the corner of the house. “Because you deserve better.”

  “Damn straight, I do. I’ve never been stood up in my life.”

  “No, not that. I mean, you deserve better than me.”

  “Oh.” She straightened her spine and wrung water from her sweater. That sounded serious. His eyes were so beautiful when he allowed her to see him like this. “Your eyes are an unusual color.”

  “Oh, shit,” he looked around frantically, but she reached out and grasped his hand.

  “No sunglasses unless you need them. I don’t mind.”

  His gaze dipped to their clasped hands, and he squeezed her fingers. “Okay. No sunglasses.” When he lifted his eyes back to hers, some emotion she couldn’t understand swam in the depths there.

  “Swear you won’t hurt me,” she rushed out.

  His jaw clenched, and his eyes blazed. “I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. I swear I’m no serial killer, or whatever you’re scared of.”

  “Then why do you live way up here by yourself?”

  “Who says I live by myself?”

  Oh. Perhaps she’d been mistaken. “I asked around town about you.”

  He had every right to be mad, but a flattered smile crooked the corner of his lips. “You did?”

  “Of course, I did. You paid for my lunch, and I’d never seen you before, and I wondered why you did that. But you ignored me every time you came into town afterward, which makes no sense because you found my dating profile. And how did you find it, anyway?”

  “We should dry off. You’ll catch a cold. Here,” he said, standing and offering his hand that was calloused and streaked with ashes and water.

  She hesitated just as her fingertips were about to touch his palm. Not because his hand was dirty from the toil of his labors, but because touching him felt dangerous in some way she couldn’t understand. Shaking her head to ward off her silliness, she pressed her palm against his and allowed him to pull her upward.

  He was strong, stronger than she’d anticipated, and she fell forward against him with the force. He gripped her upper arms as her hands landed against the hard planes of his chest. His torso rose and fell under his ragged breath as seconds ticked by, and still she stood frozen against him. She shouldn’t feel safe around this sort-of stranger…but she did.

  His heartbeat was strong and steady under her hands, and he looked down at her with eyes gone round, as if she’d startled him as much as she’d startled herself. His nose was straight and masculine. He lowered his dark eyebrows in an unspoken question, making his snow-colored eyes look even brighter.

  “Do you wear the beard to hide from people?” she whispered, but regretted the words as soon as they’d left her lips. That was none of her business. Whatever had possessed her tongue to go speaking without permission needed to stop, and now.

  With a gentle grip on her arms, he pushed her back from him, and she could see him closing down. His gaze hardened, then drifted over her head toward his cabin. “You wouldn’t like the way I look without it.”

  The words cut something ugly into her middle. How could he say that? It was obvious she couldn’t stop staring at him. “You don’t know that.”

  He dragged his attention to her and took another step away, then placed his hands behind his back. His formality stung. “I don’t like the way it looks.”

  “Okay. That’s different then.” She frowned, trying to understand why a man with a physique that would draw any red-blooded, man-banging woman’s attention would want to hide behind a thick beard. From what she saw of his face, he was the handsomest man in all of Buffalo, maybe Wyoming. Hell, maybe the whole damned world, and he was up here in the mountains, avoiding relationships with other people. He didn’t seem like a particularly shy man, so what gave? “What happened to you?”

  He huffed a breath as a muscle twitched under his eyes. She fought the urge to touch it and calm the stress there. His eye color seemed to blaze even brighter, but it had to be a trick of the setting sun that ghosted the horizon.

  “Maybe you should go,” he gritted out.

  “Or,” she said boldly, “you could invite me to stay for dinner and make up for standing me up for our coffee date.”

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  The words stung like a slap to the face. Gasping at the pain, she drew back. “It was to me.” She spun on her heel and stomped toward her car with as much dignity as she could muster, sopping wet and likely with a serious set of eyeliner-smeared raccoon eyes.


  “Wait,” he drawled.

  When she turned around to lay into him, he stood there, looking so lost and uncertain, the words clogged her throat. He ran his hands roughly through his short, black hair. “Will you stay for dinner? With me?”

  Straightening her spine, she said, “I’d love to.” Her socks made undignified sloshing sounds in her boots as she marched past him and up the front porch stairs.

  Hadley had expected a typical bachelor pad. Old grease-stained pizza boxes and dirty clothes littering the floor. Perhaps a musty smell and muddy boots tossed haphazardly by the door. What she saw when Colin leaned over her and opened the door to his home was as unexpected as raindrops on a sunny day. His cabin was small, but immaculate. A coatrack adorned a small entryway, which opened up to a living area with a couch and a recliner. A flat screen television had been mounted on the wall above a stone fireplace, and the kitchen sat ready for someone to cook in it across the den. She walked slowly past a hallway that seemed to lead to a bathroom and a single bedroom, and yelped when a streak of motion ran across the toe of her boot.

  “That’s Boomerang,” Colin said, watching her like he was studying her reaction to his home. “The cat’s all feral, but he comes in through that make-shift doggy opening on the back door there, see?” He pointed. “He likes to take his meals inside like he’s fancy, but still won’t let me touch him. He just likes to tear around the house like he’s bat-shit crazy at three in the morning to drive me nuts.”

  A patchy-furred calico cat hunched in the corner of the room and offered her a feral hiss as she walked by. “Boomerang is a girl.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “She’s a calico. See her mottled fur? All calicos are girls. It’s in their genetics to be female.”

  He frowned and ran a hand down his beard like his mind had just been blown. “No wonder she’s always pissed off. I’ve been calling her a him from the day she dropped her first rat at my doorstep.”

  “Ew. Why would she do that?”

  Colin gave her an empty smile. “Because she’s begging sanctuary in the territory of a predator.”