SPFC: It's All Your Fault

A bear hunkered down in the parking lot of the brand new ceramics shop, The Hairy Potter. My ceramics shop, I should say. Today was the grand opening I’d scrimped and saved for years to achieve.

And a damn bear decided to ruin it.

The thing was massive, larger than any bear I’d seen in the few months I’d lived here. Close to four feet across and way taller than me sitting down, it swiveled its enormous head at anyone who tried to enter the parking lot, effectively ruining the event I’d spent months putting together.

I glared at the bear through the windows before deciding to take things into my own hands. While I had no inclination to become bear food this morning, I needed it gone, the faster the better.

I dug through my bag and pulled out an air horn and some pepper spray. My brother had been on me for months to buy bear spray, but I wasn’t a hiker and saw no need for it while I was still living in an apartment.

I’d never tell Pat he was right.

Twisting my namesake hair up into a messy, curly twist, I snapped the band around it, shoved my gloves on, and palmed the air horn before opening the shop door.

A blast of frigid air hit me in the face, which pissed me off even more. If I had to go outside in this, the least that bear could do was amble off and leave me in peace. But noooo, it had fur and I didn’t, and therefore I’d be the only person suffering in this ridiculous weather.

I waved my hands at it. “Shoo! Go away!”

The bear turned and stared at me with beady eyes before deciding to treat me like an annoying fly. It huffed and didn’t budge an inch.

“GO AWAY, BEAR!” I shouted again. The porch of the shop protected me from the worst of the elements, but it was still cold as a witch’s tit outside. My teeth started to chatter, and I tugged my cardigan closer. Using the air horn was a last resort, but I was running out of options.

The bear didn’t even bother to acknowledge me this time. I ventured a step out into the parking lot, close enough for the air horn to annoy it, but far enough away that I could scamper back into my shop if I needed to.

A car pulled off to the side, either curious or broken down. Ignoring it, I held the air horn up. “Last chance to go away!” I called.

The bear opened its enormous maw, showcasing a shit ton of teeth and saliva. I took a step back.

“Not cool,” I muttered.

It made a groaning noise and huffed again as if I were the one being unreasonable.

A police cruiser with its flashing lights pulled behind the stalled car.

Good. Maybe the officer could do something I couldn’t.

“Ma’am?” A deep, male voice called.

I shrank within myself. It was him.

Of course it had to be him.

Such was my luck.

The universe hated me.

“Go away, Brick!” I shouted to the annoying man edging his way toward me.

“Well now, Carolina, that’s not very nice.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the perfect crease in his uniform pants and the silver gleam of his badge. I hated how well he filled that uniform out, and I hated it even more that I noticed.

I shot him a dark glare before I returned to the bear. “I don’t need you here,” I muttered.

“It looks to me like you do,” Brick said, his voice a deep rumble in the quiet winter morning air.

“Call someone else,” I snapped. “There’s no reason you need to respond to this. Don’t you have other damsels to rescue?”

I could almost hear the smirking grin curve his lips up into that beautiful smile I hated so much. “I never thought of you as a damsel in distress, but I’m happy to offer my services as a white knight.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. Bad choice of words. “I don’t need help.”

Brick chuckled and came closer, giving the bear a wide berth. His steps were slow and unhurried, but there was a rigidity in his posture that showed his worry. “You should go back inside.”

I snorted. “Not going to happen. It’s the grand opening today, and this beast needs to go.”

“People will come,” he said quietly.

“Not if a carnivorous beast is waiting to eat them,” I snapped.

Brick’s chuckle slid against my skin like silk. I shrugged it off and took a step closer.

“Carolina.”

“Stop barking at me,” I hissed.

“I’ve called a ranger. Let’s wait for them,” he suggested.

“This thing has been sitting here mocking me for two hours. The grand opening started an hour ago and I haven’t had a single customer!” I shot him a desperate look. “I have to open.”

Brick blinked. His eyes widened at my honesty, but his lips thinned with every step I took. “Carolina,” he urged, “just…wait. Please.”

“I’m not getting too close.” This thing had to go. My shop was the only thing holding me together, the only thing I’d focused on for months after it happened. The big terrible thing I couldn’t face.

“If you activate that thing, you’re going to piss it off.”

“Or, it’s going to turn tail and run back to the hell from which it came!” I held the air horn up, my index finger poised over the lever.

The bear turned its attention only to me, staring at me with dark, fathomless eyes. Its teeth pulled back from its lips, saliva hissing to the pavement.

Okay. Not really.

But it dripped goo from its teeth, and that was super gross and frightening.

Brick swore and barked something in his radio. All I caught was maddening and eaten and possibly lord love a duck. Another car slid in behind the patrol car and waited.

I was going to be a YouTube celebrity soon. But hopefully it wouldn’t be for one of those Darwin shows.

“Do you have a pan?” I asked Brick. The air horn should work, but if we could make even more noise, maybe that would work better.

“I’m afraid I left my saucepan in the car.” He sighed and edged closer to me. The bear didn’t even turn his way, perhaps sensing I was the greater threat.

Or the crazier one.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered, pressing down on the lever.

Several things happened at once.

Noise shattered the air. The bear launched itself to two feet, a savage snarl of anger tearing from its throat.

Brick muttered a string of words I’d never repeat, and took me by the elbow so hard, I tripped over my feet, forcing him to grab me around the waist. The scent of Brick’s aftershave washed over me as he yanked me to his side.

“Run,” he growled.

The sound of claws scraping against the pavement told me not to argue. Brick and I hauled ass up the steps, the bear not too far behind.

I yanked open the door, but Brick tore it away and shoved me inside before following. The rug under my feet shifted, and I fell in a tangle of arms and limbs. Yellow, dirty claws tore through the screen like butter. Brick shouted in alarm, stumbled, and slammed the door behind him before he tripped on that damn rug and landed beside me.

Our ragged breathing was barely audible over the sounds of the bear destroying my brand new door.

Brick and I stared at the shredded screen.

A snort bubbled from my lips.

He stared at me incredulously. His wide light brown eyes sparked. A lock of golden brown hair spilled fell over his forehead, mussed from his usually perfect style. Brick’s tan skin had gone two shades paler during the mad rush to the door, but even so, I’d never seen a more beautiful man in my life.

His look of pissed off outrage sent me to the edge. A full throated belly laugh spilled from me, and I had to look away.

The bear continued his rampage.

“I told you not to use the air horn,” Brick said mildly.

That made me laugh even harder until I was on my side, holding my stomach. But the laughter soon gave way to sorrow, and my joy turned to tears.

Everything I worked for was being shredded by a wild animal, my hopes and dreams shattered before they even started. I’d put everything into this project, and it was the only thing that kept my mind occupied over the last eighteen months.

A hand rested on my upper back. “Carolina. It’s okay. We’ll get the door fixed.”

“It’s not the door,” I sobbed. “It’s everything!”

To Brick’s credit, he didn’t quiz me. He just sat with me while I lost it.

About two minutes later, when I was a puddle of a woman, the sound of a massive thump hit the porch. Another couple minutes after that, a soft knock on the door sounded.

“We’re here!” Brick called, rising to his feet, the warmth of his hand gone from my shoulder. I sat up, rubbing my nose on my clean sleeve.

The door opened to reveal two Park Rangers and a pile of fur next to them.

One, a young fresh-faced man with pale blue eyes, and sharp features grinned. “He’s down for the count. We just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Brick glanced at me, his eyes still full of concern. I must look like a hot mess. Smiling at the rangers, I got to my feet, nodding at them. “Yes. All good. We had a close call, but we managed to get inside before anything worse happened.”

The other, a mountain of a man with blonde hair and bright green eyes, stared at me a beat too long before he shook his head once. “We have to wait for some backup. Maybe half an hour and you’ll get your place back.” The ranger’s eyes found the air horn where I was lying just a moment ago. “In the future, you should call us first.”

My cheeks went crimson. “Will do.”

His eyes went to the officer. “Brick.”

“Cal.”

Hmm. Something frosty was in the air between those two.

“Thank you,” I breathed. “Any reason a bear would do that?”

Mr. Green Eyes gave me an odd look. “Someone’s been feeding him.” Judgment simmered in his eyes.

I scoffed. “Hardly. I know better than that.”

The ranger shrugged. “That bear was sitting on four pounds of ground beef. If you didn’t feed him, you must have made someone mighty angry.” With that, he tipped his hat and jogged down the steps.

“Sonofabitch,” I muttered. “Are you kidding me?”

There was only one person who could be responsible.

“Carolina,” Brick said, stepping toward me.

“Don’t try to talk me out of it,” I snapped as I grabbed my jacket and stomped down the stairs, careful not to disturb the bear, though by the look of it, the thing would be down for the count for hours now.

“This is a small town,” he called. “Be careful you don’t make an enemy!”

I turned back to Brick. “She should be careful not to make an enemy out of me,” I snarled. “Green Valley has not seen crazy yet.”

One lot over sat a shop called The Bluebird Boutique. It was a cute little place full of artisan goods, including pottery. I tried for months to get the shop owner to accept my designs, and I thought I was getting somewhere until she abruptly declined after I’d sent her photos and examples of everything. We had a good rapport, and she seemed delighted, and then boom. Rejected.

When I asked what happened, she’d sniffed and refused to answer, claiming my products weren’t “up to her usual quality standards.”

I’d already been tender and sensitive after things, but this was another blow I felt unprepared for.

And then I found out that Lorelei Connors had a thing for Brick, and she was not happy she’d spotted us together at a local restaurant.

Never mind that I was dining alone and Brick joined my table without an invitation to antagonize me about smacking into his truck the week before. It was not an auspicious beginning to my time here in Green Valley.

The only reason I smacked into Brick’s truck was because the idiot parked like a lunatic, and how was I to know he was a local police officer? Shouldn’t they be held to the same citizenry standards the rest of us were?

I tried to explain that to Lorelei, but she turned her nose up at me and said we were “done.”

Six weeks later, I signed a lease to open up my very own pottery studio. Being right next door was the ultimate cherry on top.

Passive aggressive, Carolina be thy name.