He looked at the glasses on the table and tried to count on his fingers how many he’d had. He didn’t feel like he’d had more than usual, but he felt about twice as drunk.
Oh well, it would wear off soon. Certainly before he left the bar and needed to be on guard to protect Valerie again.
“So,” Rock said, a sneaky look in his silver-gray eyes as he leaned back in his stool. “How do you know Val again?”
Francis snorted. “Friends. From before.”
“When before?”
Francis jerked a thumb at the bar around him. “Before this.” When he was drunk, the world seemed easier. He didn’t have time for bullshit.
And what was the point of lying or hiding things anyway? Best to have things out in the open.
He looked over at Valerie and felt himself flush. His eyes dipped to her chest, then up to her lips, then to her chest again, and he heard Ros clear her throat.
“So just friends, then?” she asked.
Francis’s eyes locked on Val’s. “Just friends. For now.” That was true, until they decided otherwise. Francis still didn’t know what to do. Sure, making her his was his greatest dream. But would he be the douche of the world if he put her in that position right now, when she was vulnerable?
She sent him a kind smile, fluttering the long, curled lashes shading her pretty green eyes, and he felt his heart melt into a sad little lump in his chest.
He let out a long sigh.
“He is honest when he’s drunk,” Val said.
“I’m not drunk,” he muttered, shifting on his seat, which was no longer comfortable and for some reason kind of hard to stay on.
“Except about that, I guess,” Ros said.
“So, important questions,” Rock said. “Val, you want to go order the next round?”
Valerie stood hesitantly. She wanted to stay around and hear whatever Rock was about to say, but she reluctantly walked off toward the bar.
Francis’s glare shot to Harvey, daring him to even look at her the wrong way. He’d be out of his chair, drunk or not, in two seconds to take the other man down.
Second place in the Brawl. Please. In his year, Francis had been first. It hadn’t even been close. He folded his arms and grinned smugly as he leaned back, imagining himself beating Harvey’s ass and carrying Valerie off into the sunset.
“He’s not that easy to beat,” Rock muttered, following his gaze as Val leaned over the bar to give the order to Harvey. “You don’t need to look like a cat that has a mouse already caught in a mousetrap.”
“She’s mine,” Francis said in a guttural voice he was sure was more than a little influenced by the bear inside him.
“Oh, she is?” Rock asked, looking over at her and then back at Francis with a smug grin. “I thought you didn’t like curvy women.”
Francis snorted. “Quite the opposite. The bigger the better.” He extended his big hands in front of him in a sort of squeezing motion that sent Rock and Ros into peals of laughter. He was still squeezing the imaginary objects in his hands as Valerie came back to the table and stopped, staring down at him, her cheeks reddening.
He felt the blood run out of his face as he looked up at her, slack-jawed at what she’d just seen him miming.
She let out a little snort as she walked around him to take her seat, but her cheeks were even more scarlet, and the redness seemed to be moving into her neck.
“I swear, the two of you blush more than anyone I’ve ever seen,” Rock said. “It’s adorable.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Ros asked. “So, Francis, you were telling us you don’t hate curvy girls.”
“What shifter does?” Francis asked. “Are you crazy?”
Valerie fidgeted and tucked a soft, wayward curl behind one small ear. Her full lips were glossed in a rich berry color. She bit down on her bottom lip with small, perfect white teeth, nervous. “So then… Charles would have known you didn’t think I was gross?”
Francis snapped his gaze toward her a little too fast and had to wait for her to stop swaying in his vision before he could focus. “What? Gross? You?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear again nervously and looked up at Ros and Rock before continuing. Almost as if she were trying to gather up courage.
Why would she need courage to talk to him?
He was the one who had always been hopelessly in love with her.
“Charles told me… Well, he said I wasn’t your type.”
Francis’s mouth fell open. That traitorous, stupid… wretch. “Why would he say that?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Rock said. “But I’m not sure a couple of drunk people are going to figure it out.”
“I’m not drunk,” Val said. “Just buzzed.”
“I’m drunk,” Francis said, putting up a hand. “But I’m determined to talk about this. Can you two give us a minute?”
Ros nodded at Rock, and they went to sit at the bar and talk to Harvey.
Francis sat across from Val and reached over to take one of her hands in his. He knew he probably looked ridiculous, sweat gathering on his forehead, his hair mussed from running his hands through it, his eyes probably red from drinking.
But she was looking at him with so much sadness, so much vulnerability, that even with his compromised mental abilities, he just wanted to make her feel better.
“What did he tell you? And why?”
“That first day I met him,” she said softly. “You left the room, and he said, ‘I can see why Francis isn’t interested.’” Her eyes were downcast, and she took a deep breath. “I hadn’t really asked him anything about you. He just said it and gestured to my…” She trailed off, gesturing to her body.
Her beautiful body, perfect not only because he loved it however it was, but because it housed her soul.
“That’s ridiculous.” Francis scoffed, confusion and anger clouding his head, making him foggy. One thing he knew for sure: he should never have trusted Charles, that bastard. He’d told him before meeting Valerie that he had a crush on her, and Charles had said he’d check it out. See if she was anything more than a friend. As soon as she’d left the room, Charles had said Francis was kidding himself. Val wasn’t interested at all.
Just friends.
Francis toyed with the half-empty shot glass in front of where Ros had been sitting, thinking of taking it, but Val put out a hand to stop him.
“You’ve had enough,” she said gently. And he could tell she was only saying it because she cared for him.
“Thanks,” he said. “I guess I’m just confused. Why would you listen to what he said about me?”
“Did he say anything about me to you? I’ve started to wonder that lately. Especially when I realize he lied about you to me. If you really don’t mind curves that is.”
He scoffed. “I love them. If I had my way, you’d eat all day, as long as it made you happy.”
“Even if I was fat?”
“Curvy, fat, whatever,” he said. “Soft and wonderful and perfectly feminine. And protectable.” He flexed. “That’s what my muscles are for.”
She sighed. “You’re silly.”
“No, you are,” he said. “And honestly, as long as you’re healthy and happy, I don’t care. I love big women, but that wasn’t the reason I liked you.”
“You liked me?”
His eyes widened. “Obviously. Wasn’t it obvious?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Well, that was my fuck-up,” he said drearily. “But yeah, obviously, I was into you. Shifters like curvy women. They don’t have to be, but it’s a bonus.” He put out his hands again, squeezing the air. “More to hold, squeeze, touch—”
“I get it,” she said, a slight smile on her face as she averted her eyes in embarrassment. “You have to stop doing that in public.”
“But I’m serious, Val. However you are, you’re perfect to me. You’re gorgeous. The most beautiful woman in the world.”
“I should never have bel
ieved him,” Val said sorrowfully. “Then again, I could say that about so many things.”
“You should have been with me,” Francis said. “You should have been my mate.” He thumped his chest. “How did we let him come between us?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t think either of us thought he would lie to us.” She put a hand to her forehead. “Oh, this is such a mess.”
“Yeah,” he said dully. “And now you’re his mate, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
She was quiet.
“Did you even like me?” he asked. “Would you have even wanted me if I made a move for you back then?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I was a different girl then. Insecure. I didn’t have any idea you liked me, and it was easy to believe a man as awesome as you wouldn’t go for a girl like me. You know, the world isn’t very kind to a chubby girl. I’m more used to being mocked or considered lazy or not working hard enough.”
“That’s bullshit,” he said. “You’re the hardest worker I know.” His eyes trailed over her because he had a legitimate excuse this time. “Why have you lost weight, Val? What did he do to you?”
“It wasn’t him,” she said. “That part, I mean. I don’t think he was happy with my weight loss either. But I wasn’t happy, and I couldn’t eat.” She sighed. “I’m going to be how I want to be. I can’t change myself for you or him.”
He shrugged. “I like you however you are.”
“But you won’t be with me.”
He felt a muscle tick in his jaw, and he stood up abruptly. Everything was clear yet extremely blurry at the same time. “We should go home. We shouldn’t talk about this in a bar.” He stumbled toward the counter, and Valerie followed him, watching with concern.
When he reached the bar, he pushed himself between Rock and Ros and flopped on the counter, glaring up at Harvey. He put out a threatening finger, pointing at his nemesis.
“You stay the fuck away from my mate. You got that?” he slurred, feeling the world get a little bit dizzier. Or was he the one getting dizzier?
He felt Rock’s arm go around him, pulling him back. He struggled, but even with Francis’s superior size and strength, his drunkenness made him less than a match for the other man.
“Come on, bro. Let’s go. You’ve had enough,” Rock said, pulling him away from the counter.
Harvey watched, unamused, as Francis made a wild, halfhearted swing and then gave up, letting Rock lead him outside into fresh air. He looked back to see Valerie following with Ros, shaking her head.
He let out a snort. It was Rock’s fault for giving him drinks. And Harvey’s fault for hitting on his mate. And his fault, probably, for getting drunk enough that the bear in him was taking over.
Saying and doing all the things he never allowed when he was sober.
“We’ll help you get him home,” Rock said, amused. “And the rest is up to you.”
Valerie nodded, sitting beside Francis in the back of Rock’s truck. “Thank you.”
Francis let out a sigh, feeling her warmth and curves against him. He had the vague impression he would probably be embarrassed about what he’d said and done later, but right now, he was just glad she seemed to be open to him. Taking care of him.
With him.
That was all that mattered.
He heard his own drunken snore as he passed out on her shoulder.
Valerie watched Francis toss and turn on the couch where Rock laid him.
The doors to the cabin were locked, and she felt totally safe, but she wondered how poorly Francis had been sleeping for him to be out so easily after drinking.
She could tell the alcohol was wearing off and he was coming to, though. And then they would have to talk about what had happened, what he’d said.
So she’d been right. Charles had been lying. Francis had liked her. He’d even said she should have been his mate.
Why had he never said anything before then?
Had they allowed Charles to take so much from them?
She walked over to the couch and knelt in front of it because his huge form took up all the space and nearly hung off of it. His long lashes fluttered, still closed, over his cheeks, and his full lips were slightly parted. She looked down at them, wondering if she could kiss them without waking him but knowing that was incredibly wrong.
His body tempted her, from his broad shoulders to the huge muscles outlining his arms in wide bulges. He was so incredibly strong, even bigger now than when she’d known him. Then he’d been that natural kind of strong and handsome that came with his build. More like Charles. But now, after coming up here and doing the Brawl, or whatever that thing was, his muscles were extra large, extra defined.
She put up a hand and gasped at how hard the muscles were there under warm, velvety soft skin. He let out a small sigh, and she knew she had no right to do this.
He was vulnerable. He was drunk. He was—
“Val?”
Awake.
He rolled on his side to face her and blinked blearily. “I was having a dream. You were touching…” His eyes trailed to her hand, still on his bicep, and he blinked again, eyes widening and showing all their blue depths as he met her gaze. “Uh.”
“Sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back, but he caught it and put it back on his muscles, making her smile.
“It’s fine with me,” he said, his voice still slightly slurred. “You can do what you want.”
“No,” she said, pulling back again. This time he let her go. “I shouldn’t have been doing that, not while you were asleep.”
He rolled onto his back and put a hand up over his forehead. “How long was I out?”
“Not even an hour,” she said. “But don’t worry. I kept watch.”
“I trust no one to come into the cabin,” he said. “Plus, I have someone keeping an eye on Charles. If he leaves town, we’ll know.”
Warm gratitude flooded through her. “Really? Thank you so much.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I had a few favors to call in. But I’d do anything to keep you safe. I mean it.”
“Francis,” she said, sitting on the couch as he sat up to make room for her, still looking drowsy. “Did you mean what you said… that I should have been your mate?”
“You’re really bold tonight,” he said, putting a hand up to her forehead. “Are you drunk, too?”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “Why are you dodging the subject?”
“Because I feel stupid,” he said. “Stupid for saying something that doesn’t matter, stupid for not saying it sooner when it did matter. Stupid for putting you in an awkward position now that you’re staying with me for protection when you’re another man’s mate.”
She took a deep breath, heart hammering, and gave him a nervous, sidelong glance. “And what if I wasn’t his mate?”
Francis straightened slightly, his skin going a bit pale. “What?”
She steeled her resolve. “What if I was never his mate? What if I was supposed to, but after you left, I saw all kinds of red flags and made him go slow with me. What if I ran when I truly realized what he was?”
Francis cocked his head. “What do you mean what he was?”
“An abuser,” she said. “Someone who had no respect for me. Someone who had driven his own friend out of town somehow.”
“Oh,” Francis said, looking relieved. “I thought you meant because he was a shifter.”
“No,” she said with a slight smile. “I don’t mind that part. I find shifters kind of interesting.”
“Oh, good,” he said, looking a little out of it. Then he straightened abruptly, as everything she’d said seemed to sink in. “Wait. You’re not mated?”
She bit her lip. “Charles and I were together. Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “But we didn’t do whatever it is that constitutes mating. I know because it made him mad, and that last night, when he hit me…”
“He was trying to mate you,” Francis said, clenching
his teeth.
“Yeah,” she said. “So you can see why I wanted you to mate me.”
“But why me?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“You’re the only other shifter I know. How else was I supposed to find one when they’re all hiding from society? Especially one willing to get involved when there was an alpha male already after me.”
“Good point,” Francis said. “Though, you’ll find most shifter males worth having don’t mind a good fight if it means protecting someone who needs it.” He rested his head in his hand on the arm of the chair thoughtfully. “Okay, I see why you wanted to be mated, but I’m really focused on only protecting you right now. When you’re safe, when you’re ready to make the right choice, then I’ll be here. But in the meantime, I can’t take advantage.”
She felt anger well up in her. What was he waiting for? He’d implied that he’d always wanted her. So why was he just sitting there looking nonchalant?
She moved quickly, before he could stop her in his semi-drunken state, and straddled his lap. She took his face in both her hands and glared into his deep-blue eyes.
“How can you be so calm about this? You said you wanted me, and now your main reason for not wanting me is gone. I’m not his mate. You said I should be yours. How can you just sit there looking so blasé when you know I’m right here in front of you?” She sat back, feeling downcast. “Maybe you don’t really want me. Maybe you’re just saying that to—”
She was interrupted by him taking her hand and placing it over his chest. Her eyes widened as she felt the frantic thudding beneath her fingers and looked into his eyes, which were serious.
“I’m not calm,” he said in a tense voice. “Calm is the last thing I am with you around me. I’m constantly trying to hold myself back, telling myself you need me as a friend and you aren’t just back here as my gift from the universe. My second chance. And yeah, hearing that you never chose him, that I have zero reason to send you back to him, makes me want to claim you right fucking now, before anything can happen to you.”
“Then do it.”
Secrets of the Bear (Trapped in Bear Canyon Book 4) Page 5
