Page 12 of Bearnapped at the Altar

Barrett nodded.

“It’s rustic. And kinda cute.” The bed had a calico print spread and a chunky knit blanket at the foot. There were a couple of velvety chairs by the window, and two built-in bookcases flanking the fireplace. The cabin was perched on the edge of some farmland, and there was a breathtaking view of the Sawtooth Mountains from every window. “With a little love, a few plants, and a spicy candle, it could totally have a cottage core aesthetic.”

This bear shifter was also a little rough around the edges and with some love…

No. No, no, no. I still wasn’t convinced that Gideon wouldn’t pop out of the shadows at any minute. He’d have to do a really good job hiding in this tiny place. But I wouldn’t put anything past the slippery wolf.

And if Barrett was the real deal, and he’d done the job I’d hired him to do—even though he’d picked the most banana pants way to pull it off—he still royally pissed Gideon off. If I’d learned anything about my former boss, it was that he insisted on getting the last word.

“How long do you plan to keep me here?” I cringed again as I sank into one of the chairs. I’d asked Barrett to get me out of a terrible situation, and he’d done so. In my defense, I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept at all last night, trying to manifest a way out of marrying Gideon Silverclaw. I could check that off the list of things to do. But now my body hurt—adventures like this weren’t so easy on the north side of forty.

It was a total tease to be marooned from Moonlight Mates so close to The Real Werewives, but being near where they filmed my favorite show gave me hope that this might work out okay after all.

“You’re free to go any time you want,” Barrett rumbled and ran his hand over his beard. “But you hired me to keep you safe, and I plan to see that mission through. As long as it takes.”

Comforting. Sort of.

“The Silverclaws won’t let this go quietly,” I said, more to myself than him.

Barrett took a step toward me and crouched down so we were at eye level. “What do you want to do about it?”

Sweet moon, the simple move was way hotter than it should’ve been.

“I want to expose them.” It was my turn to growl. “Stop them from destroying more lives.”

“Do you have evidence of what they plan to do?” he asked.

“Not exactly proof.” This was where things got tricky. “Gideon’s obviously decided I know enough to be dangerous. I think I know where to find the evidence.”

Barrett’s expression darkened. “But nothing solid in hand.”

Why did I feel like I’d let him down?

“I have a couple of pictures on my phone. They’re blurry, but…” I patted my thighs, remembering that I was still in this stupid wedding dress. “My phone! I left it behind.”

I was out of my chair, full panic mode activated. There was no way that thing wasn’t in the hands of production. But it wasn’t like I could’ve tucked it into my bra when I’d planned to walk down the aisle. Even I wasn’t that trashy.

“Someone needs to invent a wedding dress with pockets.” I groaned, shaking my head. The mic pack was still hooked onto the back of my dress, but the wire had been torn away when Barrett had ripped me from set. So production wouldn’t know what had happened once we left the ranch, but they had access to everything that had happened up until that point.

Which was seriously not good.

“We can get you a new one.” Barrett was way too calm about this.

“All the proof I have on the Silverclaws is in there. I texted you, and you called me back on it. They’ll know who you are. We have to get it.” I was in a full blow panic.

“We can have it wiped.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “How?”

“Bellamy is more than just a getaway driver.” He grinned. “He’s a world class systems analyst.”

“Hacker,” I corrected.

“He gets the job done and I appreciate that.” The rumble was back in Barrett’s voice.

“And he’s working here?” Sweet moon, I needed to stop talking. One more faux pas and Barrett would bring me back to Moonlight Mates. “I mean, with skills like that, it seems like he’d be doing bigger jobs.”

The bear let out a low chuckle. “You have no idea how much trouble you’re actually in.”

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