Page 42 of Bear In A Bookstore
“A crescent moon shaped scar. I know. I saw it in the dream or vision or whatever.”
She pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders, her body racked with tremors. She was cold and spray from the rain beneath the roof was getting them both wet. Buttoning his shirt and tucking it again, Desi tried to wrap his mind around what she was saying. Hope and joy flared through him. He’d been right about her this whole time. His bear had known.
Now she just needed to know.
He took her arms in his hands. “It means that I’m meant to be yours. I knew it from the moment we met. My bear knew it.”
Turning away, she shook her head. “No, no it doesn’t work like that in real life. This isn’t a book.”
She turned back to him, her eyes tortured and distraught. She looked lost and confused and he’d do anything to make it better.
Just then, the doors opened, and a man and woman stepped out. The woman noticed Kora and came over.
“Excuse me, Ms. Breene? Would you mind?” The woman dug a piece of paper and pen from her purse. She held them to Kora and clasped her hands excitedly. “My name is Doris.”
It took Kora a second to respond. “Yes, yes of course.”
“I was so excited to learn it was you. Here, in Estes Park? What are the odds. I just love your books.”
Kora scribbled on the paper. “Thank you.”
Doris took the offered paper, her brow furrowing. “You’re freezing dear. You’d better get inside and warm up. Food’s almost gone, so you’d better hurry.”
“Thank you. I will.”
She waved as her fan left. “Would you mind taking me home?”
“I’ll bring the truck around.”
He forced himself not to think about anything as he pulled the truck up front and opened the door for her. Or as they drove away and went the short distance to her house. It was hard, real hard, not to tell her about the feelings coursing through him. His bear was restless and wanted him to charge full speed ahead in claiming her.
He parked in her driveway and turned up the heat to dry his soaked clothes. Kora brushed hair away from her face.
“Did you Google me?”
There was no accusation in her voice, just soft curiosity.
“No. I wanted you to tell me when you were ready.”
“So, you don’t know who I am?”
He did, only because of the paper he’d found. “I only know that your name is E.J. Breene and that you’re an author. I didn’t read the clipping.”
She mustered a humorless laugh. “My real name is actually Kora Meredith. E.J. Breene is the penname I write thrillers under. I was very careful to conceal my real name from the start of my career, which is why it didn’t give me away very readily when I moved here.”
The cab of the truck was filled with her soft perfume. He wanted to touch her, take her hand, let her know it was okay. But he didn’t want her to shut down.
“I’m sure that was a difficult thing to do.”
She nodded, thinking. “One of my books was made into a movie and it did really well. Set me for life, honestly. I was living the dream. Money. A beautiful book contract with built-in movie options. High profile friends. A beach house. A man who seemed too good to be true.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw.
“I had a dinner party at my house with some close friends. Everyone had just left. Geoff was upstairs getting ready for bed.” She looked at him but didn’t seem to see him. “There was a knock on the door. I hadn’t yet locked up and the next thing I know, a man rushed inside and put a gun in my face. I don’t remember much of those early minutes. Just . . . the feel of his hands on me, shoving me to the ground. Duct tape on my limbs and my mouth.”
Rage made a slow, insidious creep from his scalp to his toes. The bear roared behind his ribs, making him physically hurt from the inside out as it clawed in response to her pained tone.
“The cops tried to negotiate with him. It took twelve hours before he finally complied. I laid in a fetal position, duct taped, for twelve hours on my kitchen floor. But, um, instead of giving himself up, he pulled a gun on the police. He was shot and uh, died on my front porch.”
