A Bear Goal Read Free

bitter about because Shifter Grove nightlife was quite literally nonexistent compared to anywhere, and especially when pitted against that of Chicago—Heath had been swapped from team to team during his professional career and a lot of these guys had played together at one point or another.
    Even he couldn’t deny a friendly nod to the Predators’ goalie now, who he’d been on the same team in college with, despite the fact that they’d spent a solid minute screaming at one another a few hours ago on the ice. One by one, the Predators found places at the tables of hockey players, finally leaving only the miffed-looking minx to stand at the bar, glaring daggers in every direction, but most pointedly at Heath.
    At least Caleb and Cayman aren’t here. Otherwise this could turn real ugly real fast, Heath mused with a mental shrug, weighing his odds.
    The girl had caught his eye at the game and now that she was standing here practically in front of him, it was hard to look at anyone but her. Soft, flowing auburn hair, tan skin, and plush lips hinting at a bit of a Latin heredity—which Heath loved, since a bit of that stereotypical Latina fire was exactly up his alley—and clever, dark chestnut eyes made for a pretty-as-hell face, but her body could have floored any man. Especially a shifter.
    Healthy, lush curves, thick thighs, and wide hips made not only the man but the bear stir with almost too much interest, the growl deep in his throat a clear sign that this was not just any hot chick in front of him. Heath and his bear rarely agreed on what the “right” kind of woman looked or smelled like, but Heath was willing to bet that he’d have to take one whiff of the spirited gal before him and he’d be in full understanding with his grizzly.
    “Excuse me, gentlemen. I have a fan to greet,” Heath said with a grin and a wink, followed by a row of snorting comments from his teammates as he got up and strode through the crowd of excited fans.
    He made his way to the pissed-off beauty with moderate effort, having to turn down a few offers for drinks on his way to her. Heath leaned on the counter with a dramatic sigh, flipping back his dirty-blond hair and flashing the woman a dazzling smile that was met with such scorn that it could have scorched the earth under the feet of any man less secure in their sense of self.
    Thankfully, Heath’s self-confidence was as well-trained as his slapshot and he shrugged her scorn off with a quirked brow and held two fingers up to the barkeep. He’d bought enough rounds for the man to understand him easily enough.
    “So, do you make a habit of glaring at your favorite hockey players?” he asked casually, letting his eyes roam shamelessly along her body.
    She was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a V-neck T-shirt under a Predators hoodie, the latter of which should have been torn off of her as soon as possible. Well, along with everything else, honestly. He couldn’t help but wet his lips, imagining her curvy body under his hands, her sweet, pouty mouth screaming his name as he fucked her into a joint state of bliss. But then his emerald green eyes made it back up to her face and dammit, she looked even less impressed than she did before.
    A challenge.
    He liked challenges. Or maybe he just liked her. Whatever. End result was the same.
    “I’m not looking at anyone I’d go so far as to call a hockey player right now,” she said tersely, pressing her lips thinner as she mirrored his slouched stance at the bar.
    The barkeep appeared with their shots, setting one in front of Heath and the other in front of his mystery girl, who had seemingly been sent by fate to make his evening more interesting.
    “Drink up. We can hate each other after that,” Heath urged, sprinkling salt on his finger and picking up a lime.
    For a hot second, he thought she was going to turn down the drink as well, but with narrowed eyes she picked it up regardless and they both threw one back with the