Saving Her Bear: A Second Chances Romance Read Free Page B

thought you changed your mind!” Bennett was on his feet and around the fire in two strides, giving John a hearty embrace. He offered another to the man Catherine recognized as Deacon Fenn, but she couldn’t look away from John. He stood taller than Bennett by four inches or more, wearing a cream colored flannel shirt and jeans. His dark hair was growing out in thick brown waves, and he sported a neatly trimmed beard. Despite the changes to his appearance, she could have recognized him had she been blindfolded.
    John pulled a utility knife from his pocket and cracked the top of his beer. Then he met her gaze, and gave Catherine a nudge with his knee. He smiled down at her. “Hey Catie.”
    Catherine turned her attention back to the fire, taking three long swigs on her cider as she tried to feign calm. He seemed taller now, broader, and God damn those blue eyes of his.
    Jean extended a hand over her shoulder, greeting the newcomers. “Here, we’ll make room. Have a seat,” she said, sliding away from Catherine to offer him a spot between them. He took it, his hip brushing against Catherine’s as he sat down. It made her heart race just as it had when she was seventeen.
    Jesus Christ, why did she think she could escape up here?
    “Paul was just about to tell us a story,” Jean said, elbowing John gently.
    John smiled, swigging his beer.
    “Hell yeah, I was,” Paul said.
    Bennett slumped back down across the fire from her, Deacon Fenn sitting down beside him. Deacon was younger than John by eleven months, and his hair was far lighter. John and Deacon Fenn were known as the Irish twins all through school, having been placed in the same class despite the age difference.
    “I’m not going to believe any of this, by the way. I’m onto you guys,” Jean said.
    Paul feigned offense. “Why, what on earth do you mean?”
    Jean laughed. “I know you’re just trying to scare me. Jesus, it’s enough that I agreed to camp in the freakin wilderness with you guys rather than at an actual campground – like a normal person.”
    “Bah! Campgrounds are for wieners. You want a beer?” Bennett handed a Sam Adams to Deacon, who took it gratefully. Bennett was a few beers in and was getting to be his affectionate, brotherly self. He wrapped an arm around Deacon’s shoulders, shaking him roughly. “Man, I didn’t think you guys were gonna make it! I fuckin love you guys.”
    Deacon chuckled, holding his bottle aloft to clink it with Bennett’s. “Cheers, pal. Now let Paul tell his story.”
    Paul settled in to tell his tale, gesturing with his hands. “So there’s this really creepy shit going on up around these parts.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Bennett told us all about it,” Catherine said, praying he wouldn’t bring up the Fenn murders again with John and Deacon there.
    “Yeah, you guys heard about the hermit?” Paul asked.
    John and Deacon both started laughing and groaning. John let his weight lean into her just a bit more than was necessary, and the touch of him felt electric. She hadn’t seen this kid in ten years, what the hell was he doing leaning into her by the fire.
    And why the hell did he have to smell so good?
    Paul’s eyebrows shot up. “No man. I’m serious! He’s been around since I was a kid. They say the guy was in jail for a decade or some shit, but got out and now he lives in the woods around here.”
    “Really? You’re gonna use the creepy hermit trope?” Jean asked.
    Paul made a face. “What the hell’s a trope?”
    John raised his bottle. “Big word, pal. Don’t even worry about it.” He leaned toward her then, nudging her with his shoulder. “I’m glad to see you, lady.”
    Her face flushed, but she fought to respond as unaffected as possible. “Me too.”
    She hoped he couldn’t read her thoughts; that had there been wall posters of John Fenn available at her local mall, she’d have plastered his face on every surface of her bedroom until she was twenty-seven.
    Bennett leaned onto