A Taste of Honeybear Wine (BBW Bear Shifter Standalone Romance Novel) (Bearfield Book 2) by Jacqueline Sweet, Eva Wilder

than her. The man was like a moose or maybe a bear.
    “Are you even listening to me?” Her mother’s voice cut in on Alison’s thoughts. She just wanted to stare at that pretty man, even if he was getting read the riot act.  
    “Not really, Mother. No.”
    Her mother made a gasping sound and clutched at the pearls around her neck. Chloe, standing behind her mother, tapping away at her phone, flinched in shock. None of the sisters ever spoke to their mother that way. Ever.
    “Keep it up, missy, and see if I let you keep the house. Just see.”
    “You signed a contract, Mother. If I provide you with the contents of that lockbox, the house is mine. If I fail to, it’s sold off.” Her mother had been forcing contracts on them from a young age. Stipulating their duties and chores and expectations and what they could expect in return from her by way of financial support. Alison hadn’t even realized it was weird until she got to college and mentioned it in passing one gin-fueled night in the dorms.
    Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Where is this attitude coming from?”
    Where indeed? Alison was surprised how much she felt at home in Bearfield, after just one day. The mountain air was crisp and cool. Wisps of fog hung amongst the trees refusing to burn off completely.  
    “I guess this place just suits me. Look, Mother, I’ll be careful. It won’t be the first time I’ve hiked through the woods searching for some hidden treasure. I can take care of myself.”
    “Creeping around looking for nuts and berries by yourself in well-mapped woods is very different than hunting for a thief with that scoundrel,” her mother said through pressed lips, like she was practicing to be a ventriloquist. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? Like you were a turkey dinner with all the trimmings.”
    “He doesn’t,” Alison said.
    “Oh yeah he does,” Chloe added with a wry tone, still focused on her phone.
    “Shut up. He does not.” Alison’s face grew red and she wished she could shrink away from her mother’s terrible glare. “And anyway I’m sure he has a girlfriend, a guy like that.”
    “That’s it!” her mother snapped. “You are taking Chloe along with you.”
    “I don’t need a chaperone,” Alison said.
    “I am not going into those woods. I had a dream about them. I can’t go in.” Chloe pitched her voice spooky and resonant but her mother just snorted past it.
    “Last week you had a dream that if you did the dishes great disaster would befall you,” Mrs. Meadows crossed her arms in defiance. “You aren’t psychic, Chloe.”
    “Yeah, but what if I am?”
    So busy were the Meadows women with their family dynamics, falling into the well-worn grooves of arguments, referencing past incidents and grudges by code name or vague gesture, that they failed to notice Matt and Michael emerging from the police station until the two large, handsome, stupidly charming men were in their midst.
    “We’re ready to go if you are,” Matt Morrissey said, tipping an imaginary hat to Alison and then bowing slightly to her mother. “I’ll drive you as close to Rook’s Roost as I can, and then you’ll have to go on foot. But don’t worry,” he winked. “My little brother knows these woods like a bear.” Michael stood behind Matt, his eyes downcast. He was like a student who had been reprimanded by his teacher and was now making an extra special show of being the model of good behavior, but on him it just looked sarcastic.
    Mrs. Meadows poked Matt in the chest. “I don’t like this, but I don’t think I have any choice in this matter. My daughter has outmaneuvered me. But if anything happens to her I will find you and destroy you. I will pull down every stone of this podunk small town with my bare hands and salt the earth. Do you hear me?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Michael said from behind his brother, his voice a quiet rumble.  
    “And for godsakes boy, keep your pants on.”
    Alison couldn’t bear it. She