Bad Daddies: Barrett & Shanna

Music crackled from an old radio, filling the garage bays with static laced rock music.

Bent damn near in half, his arm shoulder-deep in the Mustang’s engine, Barrett twisted his wrist methodically, the faint clicking of the ratchet in his hand telling him that progress was being made, even if he’d been trying to get this stupid bolt loose for almost twenty minutes.

He didn’t like working on smaller cars like this unless he was pulling the entire fucking engine out of the frame, but Rodney was busy with a Porsche and that thing was even smaller than the Mustang so Barrett sucked it up and resolved himself to being uncomfortable until he got the new alternator and timing belt in.

Normally, Barrett serviced the trucks and SUVs. He was even certified to work on big rigs. His younger brother Rodney took the smaller, sportier cars because he liked them, his youngest brother Tobias, took the bikes and whatever else was left over. He wasn’t picky.

The other two guys he’d hired were– and he hated to say this– completely worthless.

Simon and Joseph were first cousins, distantly related to Barrett’s family but still related.

That meant that when Barrett’s father asked him to help Simon and Joseph out, he really didn’t have a choice.

It was one thing to say no to the tribe leader. It was an entirely different thing to say no to the tribe leader who was also your father, and especially on the topic of helping ‘family.’

This left Barrett with no other alternative than to hire Simon and Joseph and make them techs. Not mechanics, techs.

Which apparently was a hard distinction for the lazy cousins that showed up hours late most days, and only did half the things they were told to do.

It wasn’t complicated work.

He felt the bolt under his ratchet start to wiggle. Finally.

All the two had to do was sweep the shop floor, do oil changes, fill wiper fluid, and take the work orders back up to Shanna when the vehicle was complete.

Not complicated.

But Simon considered himself a master mechanic, queue eye roll, and Joseph was just a dumb little turd that did whatever Simon told him to.

Last fall, the two decided to diagnose and ‘repair’ an older model truck. They dropped the damn oil pan and installed one that didn’t fit right. Did that matter? Apparently not. The customer made it all of one block before that thing just fell out from underneath his truck. Barrett had been so embarrassed.

But Shanna fixed it, didn’t she?

He huffed out an irritated breath and pulled his arm from the guts of the engine. Setting his ratchet on the metal tray beside him, he went back again and felt for the damn bolt that had two miles of threading on it. He twisted slightly– it came loose.

Of course Shanna fixed it. No one could stay mad at her. She just blinked those big blue eyes at the customer, apologized like she’d been the one who fucked up that oil pan and the man was apologizing to her.

It was mind-boggling enough to Barrett that he didn’t even ream Simon out that bad about the whole ordeal. He probably should have though.

Shanna.

Sweet, lovely Shanna.

Who worked at his front desk, answering the phone, ordering parts, talking to customers…

Hiring Shanna had been the best damn decision Barrett had ever made.

You just think that because you’re sweet on her.

Dropping the bolt onto the tray he sighed. Sweat trickled down his temple, rolling down his jaw to his neck. He needed to pull the old alternator now. Provided he’d found all the damn bolts. Instead, he went to the fan he’d set up in the corner of his bay and angled it toward where he was working, letting his eyes close as it cooled the sweat on his skin.

The bay doors were open in a desperate attempt to stir the air. It was days like this he regretted not springing for the AC option when he had the split system heaters put in. At the time it had been frigid and keeping warm in the winter was important for his kind. If he didn’t maintain a higher tempt in the winter, his bear wanted to sleep.

Could he hibernate? Sure. Was it worth it? Hell no. And being a bear shifter might make him an oddity, as bear shifters were rare, but being rare didn’t buy you groceries or pay your mortgage.

So he’d bought the heaters and balked at the extra five thousand to include the AC option.

Dumb.

He’d been so dumb.

Unbuttoning his coveralls down to his waist, Barrett shrugged out of the damp sleeves and let the top half hang down behind him. The fan blew over his heated neck and shoulders, making him sigh in pleasure. His white tank was soaked in sweat but he didn’t remove it. Rodney had no qualms about working in a pair of shorts and fucking sandals but Barrett wasn’t interested in getting grease and grime all over himself. Or dropping a wrench on his bare toe for that matter.

Going back to the mustang, he worked for another hour, until the new alternator was in. The only thing he had left was the timing belt and that wouldn’t take long at all.

He went to the communal cooler and dug out two bottles of water. Cracking one open, he chugged until it was empty as he rolled the other over the back of his neck. Cold rivulets of water snaked down his spine. Glorious.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the front office. Shanna stood at the window between the waiting room and the garage, her eyes wide, her lips parted. She blinked and shut her mouth, grinning sheepishly. Holding up a thin stack of work orders, she pointed at him and raised her eyebrows.

Barrett licked his lips and nodded at her, keeping his face neutral. Tossing the empty bottle in the trash on his way, he opened the door to the front office and sighed again, this time deeper at the blast of cold air that hit him.

“You know, if I open this door and put your fan right over there, I bet I could blow cold air toward you,” she said.

It wasn’t the first time she’d offered.

“But then the front office will get hot. The window unit in here can’t keep up with that much space, Shanna.”

She bit her lip, “But how do you know if you’ve never tried it?”

Inside he flushed with pleasure that she wanted to make him more comfortable– that she was even thinking of his comfort at all. On the outside though, he had to control his expression.

He was her boss. He was also eight years older than her. Barrett wasn’t sure if that was still considered robbing the cradle, since he was thirty-nine and Shanna was thirty-one, and when you said it like that, it didn’t seem that bad. But when you said, ‘There’s an eight year gap’... That sounded bad. It did not help that Shanna didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

“I know,” he grumbled. “Whatcha got?”

“Oh um, two oil changes and what sounds like a transmission issue? I know you guys don’t like to do them, but she’s a very nice old lady and I just know if we send her to Automart they’re going to rob her blind on it. It’s on the old Lincoln. You have to see it! It’s purple. Isn’t that wild?! She’s so nice too, Barrett. I told her we would take a look and see if we could diagnose the issue and if we could repair it, great but if not, then we could refer her. Will you please take a look?”

Barrett sighed.

Of course he was going to take a look. And acting like he’d ever turned down a work order that Shanna wanted to get done was crazy. She might not know it, but all she had to do was blink those baby blues at him and he was done.

It was true that he hated transmission work. They didn’t have a pit in their garage, and the lift bars got in the way of dropping the whole thing which made it a pain in the ass to deal with but he’d do it. Hell, he would probably have done it even if Shanna hadn’t begged him to. People might think he was a grump but he wasn’t an asshole. Little old ladies with car trouble? Shifter or human, he’d always help.

“You know I’m going to do it,” he sighed.

Her smile was blinding. She went up on her tip-toes, the hem of her dress ruffling around her thighs as she bounced.

“Oh thank you, Barrett!”

Spinning toward her desk, Shanna grabbed the clear sleeves they used to protect the work orders from grime and dirt. She slipped each one in its own sleeve and then held them out to him by their cords.

“Oh and the truck that needs the oil change is for Mr. Obermeister. I think Simon did it last time and he short changed the oil by a quart. We don’t want to upset him again.”

That was code for, ‘Don’t let Simon touch the truck.’

“Got it.”

“Your mom called and said that she wanted you and your brothers to come for dinner Friday night. She said, and I quote, ‘Tell him it’s not optional. All my sons will be in attendance. I have important news.’ I’ll remind you Friday morning and I’ll make sure not to take any same day pickups past four pm. The dealership called to say that the part you wanted was in stock and they managed to get you one? I don’t have a PO for that though so I was going to ask you–”

“It’s personal,” Barrett said, cutting her off.

“Oh. Okay. Um, yeah. Sure. Sorry.”

His stomach clenched uncomfortably at the wilted expression on her face.

“Hey,” he said softly, shoulders slumping. “I didn’t mean to be a dick about it. It’s just… It’s a personal project and I don’t… I don’t want anyone to know about it.”

Shanna nodded, still looking a bit subdued. “Of course. I shouldn’t be butting into your business.”

Barrett sighed. “No, you’re my office manager. When the dealership calls and says they have a part in, and you can’t find the PO, you have every right to question me about it. This one part though is for a personal project.”

She nodded as she turned to walk behind the counter. His right hand clenched into a fist, the desire to reach out and grab her arm so powerful, he struggled to keep himself still.

His bear was upset now, grumbling awake from his day long nap.

The bear within him lived in extremes. It was the best way Barrett had to explain it. Most of the time– legitimately, ninety percent of the time, his bear didn’t give a shit what happened around him and was lazy as fuck. But that ten percent?

Everyone in his tribe knew that when Barrett’s bear threw a tantrum– he threw a tantrum.

Large, surly, but mostly lazy, his bear was ill mannered at all times, but not raging– not dangerous. Grumpy. Like him.

Right now, he was responding to the situation that Barrett had dug for them.

Because his bear fucking loved Shanna. Fucking loved her. Her smell, her smile, her voice, her light brown hair. His bear wanted to roll around on its back and have Shanna rub his dumb belly like he was a fucking labradoodle, not a sixteen-hundred pound Kodiak.

Right now, the bear knew basic facts, because they shared memories in an abstract way. So it knew that Shanna was sad now and it was Barrett’s fault.

A low rumble eased from his chest, barely audible but he saw the moment Shanna registered it.

Pressing his hand over his stomach, Barrett licked his lips nervously. “Sorry. I ate at Cleaver’s Diner this morning. The sausage must not be agreeing with me.”

Really? Indigestion? That was your brilliant cover? Ugh, now she’s going to think you need to poop.

“Do you need me to get you something? I can run to the pharmacy and get you something for your stomach.”

So sweet. She was so damn sweet. No problem was too big or too small for Shanna Henley. It was one of the things Barrett loved about her. She always wanted to help.

“No, sweetheart. Just keep my shop running like a well-tuned engine and I’ll be happy.”

Just never leave.

And wasn’t that a selfish thought?

Because despite how strongly he and his bear were attached to Shanna, she was human. His tribe would never accept her. Not strictly because of her humanity, but because he was the son of the Chief, and he was expected to mate with another bear shifter. How could the next-in-line take a human for a mate?

His family had headed the Silver River Bear Tribe for almost two hundred years. His ancestors hailed from Kodiak Island itself. They’d made the long journey here, settling in the Montana wilderness and integrated with humans who were tolerant of shifters, as well as other shifter families that sought refuge from being hunted for their fur and claws.

The Silver River Bear Tribewas the largest brown bear tribein North America. It meant something to his people. He couldn’t just shrug that responsibility off– no matter how badly he wanted to.

So he smiled at Shanna, a little sad– a little forced, and smacked the work orders against his palm.

“Let me know if any other jobs come in.”

“Will do,” she murmured, her gaze already going to the computer screen and clicking through the parts site they had an account with.

Barrett wanted to drop the work orders, grab her in his arms and kiss the hell out of her. Tell her he was sorry for being so short with her. Sorry that he wasn’t brave enough to defy his family and his clan’s expectations. He wanted to finally learn just how soft those plush lips were, how she felt in his arms. She appeared so dainty and fine boned, he wondered if he was even capable of being gentle enough…

He would be. When it came down to it, Barrett liked to think he was at least sure of that. He’d be so gentle with her.

When his dick started to pay attention to what his mind was imagining, Barrett exited the front office, clenching the lukewarm water bottle in his fist. He threw it back in the cooler and grabbed a fresh one before passing out the work orders, making sure to give the truck that needed the oil change to Tobias. Oil changes weren’t his little brother’s favorite thing, and he rolled his eyes a little at having to do it, but he did it.

When five o’clock hit, Barrett helped move out the cars that were ready, close up the bays, and grab his own things. Like he did every day, he rushed through the process hoping he might catch a glimpse of Shanna walking to her car.

But today, it seemed, was not his day.

Walking around to the front of the building he saw his truck was the only vehicle left. Shoulders slumping, he trudged forward, tired, hot, grimy, and depressed. When he was about ten feet from the driver side door, he saw a white paper bag resting against his windshield. The top part of the bag had been folded over and pinned beneath the wiper blade.

Reaching up, he pulled it free and looked inside.

Barking out a laugh, Barrett shook his head. A plastic bottle filled with pink liquid laid in the bottom. Pepto Bismol.

If Shanna only knew the real reason for that rumble…

She’d turn pink. Pinker than the stuff in this bottle.

Grinning, he got into his truck and set the bag in the passenger seat before heading home.