Shifting Seasons
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About this ebook
Cassie Nyre is looking forward to a quiet and lonely Christmas--until she finds an injured animal on the way home. Her big heart has her bring the hurt otter into her home and into her bathtub, to rest until Christmas Day when she can deliver it to Animal Control. But the next morning she finds a semi-naked man in her bathroom--and it's not Santa Claus!
Sheryl Nantus
Sheryl Nantus is an award-winning romance writer published by Entangled, St. Martin's, Samhain, and Harlequin's Carina Press. When she's not writing about hunky heroes, she is sipping tea, playing board games and writing haiku. A total fangirl at heart, she met her husband through an online fanfiction community and currently lives in Pennsylvania.
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Shifting Seasons - Sheryl Nantus
1
It was Christmas Eve—for some, the best time of the year.
For Cassie Nyre, the worst.
Three years ago, her father had been in mourning. Both of them had been, trying to recuperate from the shock of losing her mother in a freak car accident a month earlier, the victim of a drunk driver. Cassie put her dreams on hold and moved home, doing what she could to help him recover.
It hadn't been enough in the end. Her father didn't make it through the year, his broken heart unable to cope.
Two years ago—her world had changed forever.
One year ago, she'd been alone by choice, dealing with the biggest twist in her life to date.
This year...
She wouldn't be spending it alone, no matter what.
Cass studied the interior of the Rolling River bar, noting the lack of customers. She'd wiped down the tables twice, set the bar stools in a perfect line and swept the floor three times, making sure to get into the corners—as her father taught her. Tucking a wayward blond strand of hair behind one ear, she straightened the bottles under the counter one more time, debating her options.
There wouldn't be a problem with closing up early, before midnight—after all, she owned half of the business. Danny Yablonski owned the other half, and he'd offered to take New Year's Eve if she took Christmas Eve—the bar would be closed on
Christmas Day, of course.
It was an offer she couldn't refuse.
It'd been easy to make arrangements with Veronica to come in for the evening, letting Cass take the bar up for the evening shift. The handful of regulars who came in were glad to see her, each wishing her holiday greetings on their way out. Old Tony had been the last to leave, over an hour ago.
She checked the time—close to nine o'clock. Do a final sweep, lock the place up and head on home. Veronica had told her not to rush, but...
Cassie went to the nearest window, tugging aside the black and yellow curtains. There were no cars in the small parking lot and no sign of anyone coming down the narrow road. A light snow was falling, coating the trees and ground. The nearby river would still be running—it'd managed to survive anything the Pennsylvanian weather could throw at it.
Including her father and grandfather's garbage. Growing up here, she'd heard a litany of stories about what they'd tossed into the Monongahela River, including a cement roller, now likely covered in silt and debris.
Except it wasn't what they'd put into the river that had startled her in the end.
It'd been what she got out.
Cassie looked out into the blowing snow again, debating her decision. Close early, miss out on serving some lonely soul trying to escape the yearly family chaos. Stay open, sit here with her own ghosts until it was time to go home to Veronica...
The front door edged open with a burst of cold air whistling through the bar, startling her out of her reverie.
A man stepped in and closed it quickly, keeping the hot air from escaping. He turned toward her with a smile, shaking the snow from his dark blue pea coat.
Her heart raced as she recognized him. The short black hair, the deep brown eyes, the mischievous smirk.
Alec.
She charged at him before her mind had fully processed his arrival, striding across the empty floor.
He smiled and opened his arms. Cassie.
He said her name like a prayer. I'm so glad—
The rest of the words were lost in the slap, her hand leaving a vibrant red mark on his left cheek.
You bastard!
She took a step back, fighting the urge to hit him again before she had her say. How dare you come in here.
He stared at her before putting one hand up to his reddened skin. You're right. I deserved that.
Alec walked over to the bar, shrugging off his coat.
Can I please have a drink before you throw me out?
A few steps took her to the front door, cold air still swirling around his entrance. Cass twisted the deadbolt lock on the door and flipped the sign to CLOSED before moving around the redwood counter, putting the wooden barrier between them.
She poured out two shots of whiskey, using the good stuff.
He stayed silent.
She pushed a glass at him before emptying hers in a single gulp, the burning in her throat helping to tamp down the raging emotional storm building inside.
He drank and put the glass down on the varnished wood with a deep sigh. Been a long time since I had one of these.
Really. Don't they have bars in Hell?
Cass.
He shook his head. I know I can't say anything to make it right, but I didn't mean to be away so long...
Long?
She resisted the urge to throw the bottle at him. Instead, she refilled her own shot glass and drank. Is that a fancy way to say abandoned?
He winced as if she'd slapped him again. I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was going to be right back.
Really? Really?
She forced herself to put the bottle away before she gave into the temptation to keep drinking—that way lay trouble, and she had enough on her hands as it was. What did you think, that you'd walk back in here and nothing would have changed?
The urge to reach out and grab him was almost overwhelming. Instead, Cassie wrapped her arms around herself, the invisible pain digging deep in her soul. You said you loved me. That we were going to have a life together.
She drew a shallow breath.
Even if you were a shapeshifter.
The word still felt odd in her mouth, like cotton.
Especially because I'm a shapeshifter.
Alec moved around the edge of the bar. One you helped out. Because you've got a big heart—that's why I fell in love with you.
She closed her eyes and flashed back to their first meeting, two years ago.
The path along the river was an old friend, rising up to meet her daily walk home, as it had for years. It ran past her front door, her family's home for three generations—all of them keeping the bar going for the coal miners who needed a stiff drink after work.
When you'd seen your best friend die or maimed horribly, you needed something to take the edge off —and Nyre's bar was the best place to do it.
Originally owned by her grandfather and passed on down to her father, the bar was tucked away from the main road where only those who knew where it was could find it. Over the years, the customers had lessened with time—when the mines and the mills shut and people were laid off, but there was still a steady flow of local traffic, enough to keep the business going.
The brisk winter air nipped at her nose as she trod along, heading home after locking up the bar. A full moon was rising high over the trees, casting a strange pale light over everything. There was about an inch of snow on the ground, crunching under her boots.
She took her time—there was no one waiting for her at home. It was her first Christmas without her father, without her mother. Jean, her aunt, had suggested Cass fly to Arizona and spend it with her, but Cassie turned it down, claiming she couldn't leave all the work to Danny over the holidays. The truth was that she wanted to be alone.
She was okay with that.
The river burbled as she walked, the water lifeline leading up to Pittsburgh and down south, through West Virginia and all points past. It flowed day and night, no matter what.
It'd been a staple in her life since growing up, sustaining her through her mother's death and now, her father's. Most of her childhood friends had grown up and left the area, now only photographs and updates on social media.
Yet...