Chapter Three

      Celeste was getting used to not seeing her condo during daylight hours. Most days she left before the sun came up and returned long after it had gone down. Still, it was home, decorated just the way she liked it. And since it was only two blocks from Granny’s Kitchen, her Mustang convertible spent most of the time tucked safely in her garage.

      She hugged herself tighter, the gravel road crunching beneath her every step. Tonight seemed particularly chilly. Perhaps it was time to start thinking about wearing something heavier than her jean jacket. Luckily, with the help of Taryn and Cash and their store, All Geared Up, she had a couple of great options hanging in her closet.

      By the time her frozen fingers managed to shove the key into the lock of her trilevel condo, Celeste was ready for a hot bath. Her toes were frozen inside her black wedge pumps. Maybe she’d surf the internet tonight for some cute boots. They’d have to be wedges, though. With gravel streets and so many hills, it didn’t take her long to figure out that any other type of heel was not practical in Ouray.

      She climbed the first set of stairs to the main floor, flipped on the light and tossed her jacket over the arm of the leather love seat before continuing on to the third-floor master bedroom. As water filled the jetted bathtub, she contemplated her meeting with Gage. Attitude aside, the man did seem to know what he was doing. But what if that expertise cost more than she was willing to pay? She’d set a budget. She just hoped it was enough.

      I’ll be the judge of that. It still irked her, the way he seemed to enjoy challenging her. Then again, she wasn’t used to being challenged. She was used to calling the shots. Giving people the information they needed in order to achieve the results she wanted. So if Gage had a problem with that, well...she’d be forced to resort to Granny’s method—ply ’em with food. Good food and lots of it.

      After a much-needed soak, she padded down to the kitchen in her fuzzy pajamas for a cup of chamomile tea.

      “Eww.” She set the kettle on the burner, her nose wrinkled. What was that smell? Following the trail of the offending odor, she located its source—the kitchen trash can. Next time she threw away chicken bones, she needed to discard the bag sooner.

      She tugged the trash bag out from the wastebasket and cinched it closed as she started down the stairs to the garage. Note to self—buy an air freshener.

      A sound echoed inside the garage as she opened the door. Like breathing. Heavy breathing.

      She laughed off the notion, though. This was Ouray, not Fort Worth.

      Flipping on the light, she took a step inside and froze. Two weeks’ worth of trash was strewn everywhere.

      “Oh. My.” The breathing hadn’t been her imagination.

      No doubt smelling the chicken in the bag she carried, the furry black creature turned toward her and snorted.

      Panic coursed through her veins. Her hands shook, rustling the bag.

      The monster pushed up on its hind legs. Its claws were humongous. Then it roared.

      “B-b-bear!” She dropped the bag and rushed back into the house, closing the door behind her. Leaning against it, she could hear the animal on the other side as it ravaged the bag she’d held only a second ago.

      What if it got in the house?

      She locked the door.

      Like that was going to stop him. With those claws, it could probably smash right through the door. She had to get out of here.

      Her neighbors. They’d know what to do.

      She bolted out the front, across the cold, damp grass, and banged on their door. No answer.

      Stepping back, she stared at the darkened house. Only then did she remember the Jacksons were out of town.

      She looked around. The house across the street was all lit up. She hadn’t met the people before, but this seemed like as good a time as any.

      Gravel cut into her bare feet as she crossed the road, but that was nothing compared with what that bear would do if it got ahold of her.

      She stumbled up the front steps and knocked on the storm door. Her breaths were coming quick. Too quick. Funny, she’d always been one to remain calm in a crisis. But the sight of those fangs just a few feet from her...White spots darted through her vision.

      The door jerked open and Gage Purcell gawked at her as if she was a madwoman.

      Then everything went black.

      * * *

      Celeste awakened to find three pairs of blue eyes staring down at her.

      She leaped to her feet. Eyes wide, she took in the unfamiliar surroundings—the dollhouse against the wall, the pile of unfolded laundry at one end of the dining table, the two blonde girls watching her every move. “Where am I?”

      “In our living room.” Gage folded his arms across his chest, his white T-shirt revealing rather large biceps. Couple that with the five-o’clock shadow lining his jaw and he looked like he belonged in a men’s cologne ad. “You passed out on our porch.”

      “I—I did?” She struggled to remember.

      “Yes. So I suggest you sit back down. At least until you can get your bearings.”

      She returned to the tan sofa without argument, her head swimming. “Why was I—?” Then she remembered. “The bear. He—he...how long was I out?”

      “A couple minutes.” Gage’s brow wrinkled as he took a seat in the rocker recliner opposite her. “What bear?”

      “In my garage.”

      “I wanna see the bear.” Emma plopped beside Celeste.

      Her arm instinctively went around the child’s shoulders. “Not this bear, sweetie. He was huge. And his teeth...” She shuddered.

      Gage leaned back, crossing one ankle over the other knee. “Ah, it’s not uncommon for bears to come wandering into town.” His tone was annoyingly nonchalant. “Especially this time of year. Food sources are getting scarce up in the mountains.”

      She glared at him, her teeth clenched. “It was in my house.”

      “Perhaps you left your garage door open.”

      She sent him an incredulous look. “Now, why would I do that? Besides, it hasn’t been opened in weeks.”

      “I meant the back door. As I recall, that whole row of condos—” he pointed in the direction of her house “—has doors on the back of the garage.”

      “I don’t know when I would have opened it. It’s been a while since I’ve even been in there.”

      “Maybe it wasn’t latched properly. The wind probably blew it open.”

      “That doesn’t negate the fact that there’s a bear in my garage!”

      He leaned forward, rested his forearms on his thighs. “Do you have an electric garage door opener?”

      “Yes.”

      “How do you open it?”

      “The remote’s in my car. There’s also a keypad by the garage.”

      “That’s just what I was hoping.” He pushed to his feet, wearing a satisfied smile. “All you have to