Read Bear This Heat (A BBW Shifter Romance) (Last of the Shapeshifters) for Free Online

population.
    “Hey,” he said, waving at the waitress. The fifty-something woman with a hard scowl and lined face walked up to him, coffee pot in her hand, a jaunty carelessness in her step. She was wearing an oversized singlet, tucked into high-waist jeans, and with the top button undone. Dylan could definitely appreciate her bravely casual fashion sense.
    “More coffee, stud?” Her voice was deep and raspy, like she’d just smoked a hundred cigarettes in a single sitting.
    Dylan ignored the question. “Why are there so many police officers around?”
    “Sorry, darling?”
    “Police officers. I went for a walk today, and couldn’t go two buildings without seeing one.”
    “This is Salty Springs, darling,” the woman said didactically, as though that explained everything.
    Dylan looked up at her. “Tell me about it.”
    “About what?”
    “Salty Springs. Come on, sit down. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”
    “Well aren’t you a fuckin’ gentleman,” the waitress sneered. But she sat down anyway. “What do you want to know?”
    Dylan looked at her, confused for a moment. “Why all the policemen?” he asked again. Surely she’d heard him the first time.
    “It’s Salty Springs.”
    “You already said that. Tell me why this being Salty Springs explains all the police?”
    “You new around here?”
    “Yes.”
    “Alright, I’ll tell you. This here, this town, it’s a sad place. Abuse, violence, drugs and alcohol.”
    “Abuse?”
    “Domestic.”
    Dylan nodded. He’d heard about it before. “And?”
    “The drugs are the worst. Kids hooked on meth. They smoke that filth. Got a few houses around here that cook it all up. Used to be real popular, back in the nineties, but then it died down for a while. Seen a resurgence lately, though.”
    “Cook it up?”
    “Yeah. There are meth houses everywhere.”
    “For such a low population,” Dylan said. “Don’t you find that weird?”
    “Officially, that number you see on the sign outside town is right. Unofficially, it’s wrong.”
    “Why?”
    “Lots of people coming here over the years, especially recently since the drugs started up again.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Real bad types, too. Tattoos and all.”
    Dylan grinned “Tattoos, huh?”
    “Yep.”
    “Thanks for the chat,” Dylan said.
    “I’m billing you another cup of coffee,” she said, getting up with a grunt.
    “That’s fine.” He smiled at her.
    “And I thought you were going to ask me why this town was called Salty Springs.”
    “What if I had?”
    “I’d have told you to go down the tourist office and read a fuckin’ brochure.” She took a breath, and then paused, narrowing her eyes at him. “And don’t think that I’m too old that I don’t notice you’re a looker, either, young man.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
    Dylan looked at the empty doorway for a while, before returning his thoughts to why he was in Salty Springs. He’d read about sightings of a wolf in the desert, and that was what had piqued his curiosity. It was as out of place as a bear in the desert, he mused. With the downtrodden town being the only place worth going for hundreds of miles in all directions, it was as safe a bet as any that this was where that wolf was heading.
    But with all the police officers around, it meant that there were more eyes looking out for unusual things than he had expected. He’d have to be careful while he continued his search.
     
    *
     
    “Hi, Jenny.”
    The sixty-something woman looked up, scowling, and Sasha found her eyes drawn to the inch-long fuzz that was growing on her chin.
    “What are you having?” she barked.
    “Give me a ham-and-egg, and a coffee, would you?”
    “I saw your face in the free paper today, Detective Inspector .”
    “Yeah, I saw that, too,” Sasha said. “I’m surprised it got out so fast.”
    “So, how are you liking the promotion?”
    “To be honest with you, I’m not. I got a case today…” she started, before her voice faded.