Unbearable Mates
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About this ebook
They want opposite things — and definitely not each other
Bear shifter Peter just wants to catch a dangerous criminal. His latest case leads him to an art gallery, and the plan is simple: Attend the exhibition opening, pretend to like paintings, and solve the case before moving onto his next one.
Running into his fated mate isn't part of the plan. His fated mate being the most arrogant man Peter has ever met definitely isn't part of the plan.
Swan shifter Henry just wants the art exhibition opening to run smoothly. When he meets his fated mate, he isn't sure what's worse: that there's a wanted criminal at the gallery, or that his true mate is a selfish jerk who doesn't like art.
After a passionate quickie turns into a passionate argument, Peter and Henry decide that the sooner they get rid of the thief, the sooner they can get out of each other's lives.
But as the evening goes on and they learn to work together, they start to wonder. Did destiny set them up for a reason, or has the situation become unbearable?
Unbearable Mates is a stand alone shifter romance, and perfect if you love opposites attract, second chances to make a first impression, and two stubborn shifters.
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Unbearable Mates - Calandra Hunter
Unbearable Mates
by Calandra Hunter
Copyright 2018 Calandra Hunter
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deal, is purely coincidental.
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1. Peter
Peter Harris stood in the middle of the Wethersville Art Gallery and reminded himself that he liked being a tracker for the Shifter Law Enforcement Services. He liked traveling around the country, tracking down criminals, and handing them over to the local SLES officers.
What he and his bear didn’t like were gatherings of strangers, dressing up nicely, and pretending to be interested in something he wasn’t. The art gallery exhibition opening he was currently at ticked all three boxes. He tugged at his tie a little without being too obvious about it.
He couldn’t wait to hand his latest target over to Officer Blackwell, or any of the other officers at the SLES agency in Wethersville. He’d been chasing Darryl Johnson, a thieving wolf shifter, for a little over a month now, and Peter was getting close. He’d almost caught Darryl a week ago in Chicago, a near-miss that meant Darryl now knew someone was after him.
Ever since, Peter had been hot on his trail. Darryl hadn’t stopped in a town or a city for more than a day since then, and he’d been headed north. He was clearly going to Canada, and Peter intended to catch him before he crossed the border.
Wethersville was the biggest town in the area with a population of 20,000. If Darryl was going to stop anywhere, it would be here. Darryl was low on cash and probably looking to steal a different car to throw Peter off his scent. Peter had searched the Internet for events in Wethersville which might attract the wolf shifter, and this art gallery opening fit Darryl’s pattern. For some reason, he liked going to art galleries if he needed quick cash or wanted to steal someone’s car keys. Maybe he genuinely enjoyed art, maybe he figured rich people went to art galleries, or maybe people were less guarded about their belongings in art galleries than in a random bar or club.
Peter walked around the main exhibition room, pretending to be interested in the paintings on the wall. Most of them were landscapes, some painted in a realistic style, while others were more abstract. He didn’t know a lot about art, and he hoped no one would ask his opinion on any of the works. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to manage more than ‘the clouds in that one look great’ or ‘that sunrise looks like it’ll be a nice sunny day’. He scanned the room, looking around for newcomers or people who didn’t seem to fit in. With this many people in one space, it was difficult to pick out individual scents, especially since it was a mix of humans and shifters.
He wasn’t used to tracking shifters from city to city or in a crowd. He specialized in tracking those who tried to hide in a state park or a dense forest. Separating all the different scents in nature from that of the shifter he was tracking came easy. Doing the same in a city or even a town like Wethersville was a lot more challenging for him.
The trouble was that while Peter had been after Darryl for several weeks, he had never gotten close enough to get a good look at his face. The SLES didn’t have any good pictures, or they would’ve simply sent those to the various SLES agencies and told them to keep a look-out. They had a description, of course, but Peter saw at least a dozen men in this room who matched it. Around 6’2", slender and athletic build, mid-thirties, short brown hair and grey eyes, no particular facial features which stood out.
All Peter had to go on was Darryl’s scent. As a trained tracker and bear shifter, his sense of smell was good enough that he could tell wolf shifters apart, even if their scents were very similar. A brief trip around Wethersville that afternoon had told him there were over two dozen wolf shifters who lived here, but there hadn’t been any trace of Darryl.
He hoped his luck would change tonight. He definitely didn’t want to be wearing this suit for nothing. He had borrowed it from Officer Blackwell, since they were both tall, broad guys, but the suit still didn’t fit right. It was too wide across the shoulders and a little too tight around his thighs. When he was tracking someone down, he lived out of his suitcase and travel bags, and he rarely needed a nice suit.
As he looked around the room again, he wondered if it would make him stand out. The other men here were wearing suits that fit them. Would Darryl spot him, decide it was suspicious, and leave?
Peter told himself that Darryl wasn’t a fashion expert, and even if he did leave, one of the local SLES officers would be patrolling the area all night. He had briefly spoken to Officer Parrish earlier, and Peter was certain the other man would have a friendly chat with any unfamiliar wolf shifter he came across.
He did another slow circuit of the room, telling himself not to be disappointed he hadn’t scented the wolf shifter yet. The evening was still young. If he were a thief, he would wait until the opening was well underway so that most of the guests would have had something to drink. He overheard conversations about brush strokes, usage of light, and different art styles, which definitely had him wishing he wasn’t on duty so he could have a beer. Or two. Or four. They were paintings, either you liked them, or you didn’t. Discussing the technique or some other detail wouldn’t suddenly change your mind about it.
He headed into one of the smaller rooms to the right of the main exhibition room. There were fewer people here, but still no wolf shifter who smelled like Darryl. He did a circuit of the room, just to make sure Darryl hadn’t been in there. He sauntered past the paintings, pretending he was looking at them, and nodded a few times as if he was impressed. He had to at least look like he was here for the art.
What do you think?
Peter blinked when the older man he had just walked behind spoke. Sorry?
The older man turned his head. He was bald with a thick, grey beard. The painting.
Peter stood beside the man and gave the painting another look. It was a row of four buildings, with a sidewalk in front and blurry figures Peter assumed were people. The buildings themselves weren’t blurry, which was probably a deliberate choice, and going by the logos and letters on the windows, they were all stores. Wait, isn’t that one of the streets here in Wethersville?
he asked. One of the logos looked very familiar, as did the yellow door on one of the buildings.
Oh, probably,
the older man said. It’s all local artists.
He gestured at the other paintings. Never mind that. What do you think of the painting?
He looked at the painting again, hoping to spot something to comment on. The sky in the painting was overcast, with grey clouds as if it was about to rain. The, uhm, sky is interesting,
he replied, since ‘interesting’ could mean many things, both positive and negative.
The sky?
the older man’s eyebrows rose. Hmm, hadn’t considered that.
He looked at the painting again. That is a nice touch, you’re right.
Peter just nodded and hoped the man wouldn’t ask him to elaborate. Yes, very nice,
he agreed, then wandered off before the man could continue the conversation. He walked back into the main exhibition room, sipping his orange juice. He was definitely gonna get himself a beer once this was over.
He took a deep breath through his nose, hoping to smell Darryl despite the number of people in here. His sense of smell could be both a blessing and a curse.
His bear perked up, and yes, there was something underneath the mixture of sweat, perfume, and cologne in the room. Something enticing and fresh, yet familiar. Something that reminded him of quiet ponds in the middle of the woods. Something that sent a surge of desire through his body, and something that had his bear on edge.
It wasn’t Darryl Johnson, because Darryl Johnson had never made his bear decide that they had to find the person that scent belonged to, and they had to find that person now. Finding Darryl was a job, and his bear considered it a fun chase. Finding the person with the enticing scent, however, was a need.
Peter turned on the spot, looking around, taking another deep breath. Oh God, the scent was driving him crazy. Wonderful and crisp, but with warm undertones, like a lake at the end of a summer’s day. The scent seemed strongest on the other side of the room, where the hallway leading to the entrance was, and he hurried over, muttering apologies as he bumped into people. He bit back a groan as the scent became stronger, and his bear urged him on.
He had heard of this happening to other shifters, of course. Suddenly smelling the most wonderful scent in the world, and then the spike of desire and nothing else mattering but finding that person. Was this it? Had he found his true mate? Here, of all places? While he should be hunting down a wanted criminal?
His bear grumbled that they could grab Darryl any time, this was their mate.
Peter agreed. Yes, he had a job to do, but his mate was more important than any job.
He hurried down the hallway. Had his mate just arrived? He bumped into an older couple who were walking to the exhibition area, and he mumbled a quick apology. He looked up and froze on the spot when he saw a man come from the opposite direction. He was walking with great determination, yet somehow avoided walking into anyone, and looked around as if he was trying to find someone.
That man was the one who smelled so wonderful. Peter knew it as soon as he saw him, and for a moment, all he could do was stare, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. He had found his mate. He was around the same age as Peter, a few inches shorter, and absolutely gorgeous, with fine features and brown hair styled to perfection. His suit was black and impeccable, cut to show off his slender figure. And oh, Peter had plans for that tie he was wearing.
His mate had a slight frown on his face as he looked around, and his eyes widened when he saw Peter. He stood frozen in the hallway, the frown gone, replaced by an expression of complete disbelief.
Peter knew he must have a similar expression on his own face, and smiled. That seemed to snap his mate out of his moment of shock, and Peter waited impatiently for the other man to walk over to him. Hey,
he said, holding out his hand. I’m —
Mine,
his mate said, grabbing Peter’s hand and tugging him closer. You’re mine.
2. Henry
Henry Sinclair stood by the entrance door of