by Amy Star
CHAPTER THREE
Charlie let two days pass. They seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, but maybe that made sense, considering how hard she was trying to keep herself busy and distracted. Even her extra time before work—being driven to work was a hell of a lot faster than walking to work—seemed to pass in a flash.
(Sam never complained, which was a plus. Charlie needed to think of something to do to thank her properly, but she was drawing a blank at that moment.)
Her coworkers, accustomed to her walking to work, were confused at first and when she explained the mugging story, they were all so outraged and worried on her behalf, despite the fact that she was fine. Her job may not have paid amazingly well, but she did like her coworkers and her boss, and even most of the restaurant’s regulars. She almost felt bad about lying to them about what actually happened. Almost. She wasn’t in any sort of hurry for them to decide she was crazy, though, so she kept the true details to herself.
After two days, she called Zeke. He picked her up from work and they drove to a café in the city so they could sit down and have a proper conversation about it. They took a table on the sidewalk, small but well shaded by an umbrella and out of the way of foot traffic, and after telling him what she wanted, she let Zeke head inside without her to place their order. It gave her time to put her thoughts in order.
She was pretty sure she caught a glimpse of Richard on the opposite side of the street, just briefly, before he decided there were too many people around and continued on his way down the road. She couldn’t be sure, though. For all she knew, her nerves were just making her see things. Either way, it didn’t actually change her decision.
Silently, she decided not to mention the possible sighting to Zeke, though. If it was Richard, he couldn’t exactly do anything in the middle of the street in broad daylight, and she didn’t want to send Zeke into a fit when they had things they needed to actually discuss.
When Zeke came back out with his coffee, her tea, and two sandwiches, Charlie took a few sips of her drink to steady her nerves. And then, without wasting any time with small talk, she took a deep breath and stated, “I don’t want to break things off.”
Zeke stared at her, looking as if it was the exact opposite of what he had expected. It probably was the exact opposite of what he had expected. It took him only a moment to gather his bearings, though, before he shook his head slightly and asked, “You’re sure?”
Charlie nodded slowly. “I’m sure, yeah,” she confirmed, before she busied herself taking a few bites of her sandwich. When she swallowed and set it back down on her plate, she explained carefully, “I have, like, zero faith that I’d actually be safe if we broke things off.” Her shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “He wants me dead for being a threat to him getting what he wants. He knows we’re onto him now. I doubt that he would back off unless he had ironclad proof that we were done.”
Zeke nodded once, conceding the point to her without an argument. Because really, there wasn’t much of an argument when it came to ‘he wants to murder someone for money.’ (A lot of money, true, but the point still stood.)
Carrying onwards, Charlie added, “And unless you plan on just giving up and letting Richard become your dad’s heir, then all that’s going to happen if we call things off is that you’re going to get another girlfriend, and then she’s going to be in trouble.” Her nose wrinkled. “I’m not really comfortable passing the buck like that.” She shoved her hair behind her ear with one hand and rubbed the back of her head. “So… you’re stuck with me.”
(She supposed she could try to insist he let the matter go and just live with being disinherited, but pettily and vindictively, she didn’t want Richard to have a chance to get his hands on anything he wanted in life. Besides, she didn’t think Zeke knew her well enough to put that much stock in what she thought he should do.)
Zeke looked as if he was going to say something, but his mouth closed with a click and he recoiled abruptly as Charlie pointed a finger right at his nose. “But we are going to start wedding planning soon,” she commanded. “Like, immediately,” she added. “I get that it needs to be some giant to-do if anyone is going to take it seriously,” she sighed, exasperated, “but we’re still going to make it happen as soon as we feasibly can, regardless of how we need to twist the logistics.”
“I do have enough money to twist the logistics pretty far,” Zeke conceded, startled surprise melting into quiet amusement.
Charlie settled back in her seat, folding her arms over her chest as she nodded once, satisfied. “I’m glad we’re seeing eye to eye on this,” she informed him, her tone prim and proper. “I’ll have a list of requirements soon.”
Zeke brought a hand to his chest and his tone turned earnest. “I’m sure you’ll be a benevolent task master.”
Well, she would try to be, at least. On the whole, she didn’t think she had too many demands. She just knew there were a few things that she definitely wanted and a few things she definitely did not want.
Zeke seemed game enough, at least, but she supposed he knew he was in no position to protest anything.
Charlie unfolded her arms so she could turn her attention back to her tea and her sandwich, and soon enough Zeke turned his attention to his own food and coffee. They didn’t say much else, but it wasn’t a bad day, on the whole. Zeke’s presence was quiet but strangely comforting. She guessed that was a side effect of him having saved her life just a few nights ago.
Things were looking up, at least. Maybe this wasn’t the direction she had ever envisioned her life going in, but if nothing else, she could be happy in the knowledge that her father would be tearing his hair out as soon as he heard about it. Inviting him to the wedding just to see his reaction was getting more and more tempting the more she thought about it, and she smiled quietly to herself as she pondered.
CHAPTER FOUR
She hadn’t initially planned on it, but Charlie went home with Zeke after they finished eating. She was going to marry him, after all; she supposed it didn’t hurt to trust him. Besides, logic told her that he wouldn’t go through all the trouble he was going through if he had any untoward plans.
His home was surprisingly small. True, it was still a penthouse apartment and the view alone probably cost more than a year’s worth of Charlie’s rent, but she had been expecting something enormous. Instead, there was a kitchen that led seamlessly into a dining room, an office space, and a living room, all easily viewable from the entryway just outside the elevator, with a door to the right that led into a room that had to be the bedroom just based on its size, and a door to the left that, logically, had to lead to a bathroom. Most of the outside walls were not actually walls, but were instead made of glass. There was a balcony, but even that was fairly small.
It was all so high up. All at once, Charlie had an urge to peer out the nearest window and stare downwards, but also to stay as far away from the windows as she could.
“I wanted to show you something.”
Zeke’s voice broke her out of her musings, and she turned to look at him over her shoulder. Her eyebrows rose towards her hairline as he untied his tie and began to unbutton his shirt, and slowly she turned to properly face him. She watched with silent, growing interest as he nonchalantly stripped, her eyes roving down his abs as his hands worked his belt loose.
When he was standing nude before her, she had only a moment to truly appreciate the sight before he… changed.
She couldn’t say it was grotesque, so much as it was just strange. His form expanded and shifted shape, until there was a bear the size of a rhinoceros standing in front of her, with a boxy head, round ears, a nearly invisible little tail, enormous feet with massive claws, and a long snout with distressingly large teeth. Looking at him in the light, his fur wasn’t quite brown, but more of a reddish, brownish shade of auburn. Charlie couldn’t help but to think that it would make more sense for his fur to be black—his hair was black, after all—but if she thought about it, sh
e had never heard of any black bears that weren’t reasonably small, at least by bear standards.
(Granted, he seemed to be enormous by the standards of any bears, and she was going to stop trying to ponder how being a were-bear worked.)
Before she could stop herself, Charlie was walking forward, closing the distance between them. She lifted a hand, but she paused for a moment until Zeke bowed his head. Taking it as permission, she set her hand on the flat top of his head.
His fur was deep and surprisingly coarse, and as she slid her hand back from his head to his neck, her hand sank nearly up to her wrist into his fur.
“You’re a bear,” she observed, having apparently lost every single point of her IQ just then, as she stood and stared at him, one hand still buried (literally buried) in the fur of his neck. “I don’t even know what sort of bear. Are you any specific sort of bear?”
She had never seen any animal shrug before, but that was what he did, large, rounded shoulders lifting and then falling once again, and he huffed out a quiet breath.
“Do were-bears just not have distinct species, then?” she wondered. “Or—you can’t actually reply. I’m talking to a bear.”
There was another huff of breath, and that time it managed to sound distinctly amused. She was being laughed at. By a bear. An enormous bear was laughing at her and she had no idea what she was supposed to do with that information.
Slowly, Charlie sat down on the floor, her hand sliding off of his neck as she did. It wasn’t the best decision, considering it left her staring straight up at his snout, but he seemed content to keep his mouth closed for the time being, and then it was a non-issue, as he dipped his head to look down at her, curious and concerned by turns.
Charlie lifted her hands to gesture ineloquently at him, hands fluttering in no discernible pattern or gestures. “You’re a bear,” she repeated urgently, as if that was actually going to offer any sort of workable information to anyone.
Never before had she seen an animal roll its eyes, but just then, it happened. He rolled his eyes at her. She opened her mouth to object—she was perfectly justified in feeling like she was a bit out of her depth, thanks very much—but he leaned forward slightly, prodding at her forehead with the end of his nose. It was a fairly light poke, all things considered, but he was still enormous and Charlie had to put her arms back, her hands on the floor, to keep from toppling over backwards.
Before she could help it, she was giggling, lifting one hand from the floor again to cover her mouth as she did. Before long, she was doubled over her lap, both hands covering her face as she howled with hilarity, until her face was red and her eyes were watering. Zeke lay down in front of her, his head resting on the rug as he waited patiently for her to get herself back under control.
He had to wait for a few minutes. Eventually, though, chest heaving as she gasped in fitful gulps of air, Charlie managed to get herself back under control. She wheezed behind her hands for a few more seconds before she finally managed an unsteady, “I—I’m—I’m good. I’m calm. Okay.”
Zeke’s eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, and Charlie very nearly started laughing again right then and there, but she swallowed thickly and clamped her mouth shut for a second before she reiterated, “I’m calm.” She reached out, setting a hand on top of his head again. “You, uh… are you going to turn back into a person?”
Not that he wasn’t a pretty bear—he was, though Charlie acknowledged that she wasn’t any sort of expert on the topic—but he was rather hard to carry on a conversation with when he couldn’t talk, and there were some questions that Charlie wanted to get some answers to.
*
“Question,” Charlie announced eventually, once Zeke was dressed once again. He sat down, joining her on the rug since she was unwilling to put in the effort to get back to her feet just then. His eyebrows rose expectantly, and Charlie plowed onwards. “Why the fixation on you getting married? I mean, I sort of figured it was a ‘billionaire legacy’ sort of thing, but—” she paused and gestured at him with both hands. “Bear.”
He rolled his eyes again. “That is part of it,” he agreed, “though it’s less a fixation on marrying and more a fixation on mating. Were-bears are not exactly common, and we get less common by the year. I’m expected to do my part to prevent that from happening.”
“But I’m not a were-bear,” Charlie pointed out, as if there were any way he could have forgotten about that. “How do I help with that?”
“We need to broaden the gene pool now and then,” Zeke replied, shoulders lifting in a faint shrug. “If we’re lucky, we find a bear family with no relation to us—you noticed, my mother is considerably younger than my father—but otherwise, just getting the genes out there is enough to keep us content. We don’t really have room to be picky.”
For a moment, Charlie tried to imagine what an inbred were-bear would be like, but she chopped that thought off with the force of a mousetrap. She didn’t want to know. She wasn’t going to ask. She wasn’t going to think about it. She didn’t want to know.
“What if I decide I don’t actually want to have kids?” she asked after a moment of pondering, largely just to change the topic and get rid of the mental image that was trying to form. “What happens then?”
Zeke shrugged once again. “Then my father will probably be gone before the ‘Oh, we’re trying, you know how it goes’ excuse wears thin, and it will no longer be an issue.”
Charlie arched one eyebrow. “Your mom won’t care?” she asked dubiously.
“Surprisingly, no,” Zeke returned. “She married my father because it’s what her family wanted her to do, but on the whole, she’s content if we’re content, and much like myself, she’s under no delusions that what our family does on its own has much of an impact on the larger bear population.”
Charlie hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I guess that’s good,” she mused slowly. “I mean, I don’t actually know what I want with regards to, like… family and everything. I’m twenty-three, I figured I would have plenty of time before I had to think about any of that.”
“Your parents never hinted at anything?” he wondered curiously.
She scoffed. “Mom was out of the picture way early, but Dad would be perfectly happy for all of us to have six kids apiece. It means he would have more people to mooch off later, since statistically, he would be able to convince at least a few of them that he’s not a complete shit ball.” She rolled her eyes. “But he can take his opinions and go fuck himself with them.”
Zeke held his hands up in a placating gesture, warding off any further bile. “Point taken.”
Charlie cleared her throat sheepishly. “Sorry. Just… not my favorite topic of discussion.”
“So I gathered,” Zeke mused dryly.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, her expression turning just a bit impish. “Seems like something we agree on, since you’re only putting on the appearance of going along with what your dad wants, and only so you can get what you want out of him.”
Zeke shrugged guiltlessly. “I’ve never particularly enjoyed having my life dictated to me,” he admitted easily. “I can play along when it seems like that’s the best option and it’s not as if I have any interest in hurting people, but I’m not going to be led around by the nose simply because someone else wants me to be.”
Charlie pumped one fist into the air slightly. “Right on.”
*
“You could move in,” Zeke pointed out eventually, looking out the wall of windows as he said it. “I can’t guarantee it would be any safer—you seem to be pretty well surrounded by other people any time you aren’t at home—but I’m working under the assumption that we’re going to be cohabitating once we’re married, anyway, and you expressed some interest in expediting that process.”
Charlie snorted. “It would be sort of hard to pretend we’re trying to make babies if we don’t even live together,” she acknowledged. “So yeah, it’ll happen eventually, but for now?” She shrugged
carelessly. “For now, I like having my own space.”
“Are you going to move in before the wedding at all?” Zeke wondered wryly, though he didn’t sound bothered by the idea either way. “Or are you just going to wait until we’ve tied the knot?”
Charlie tapped her lip with one finger and hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know, drawing things out as long as I can sounds like it could be pretty fun,” she mused. “I mean, it’s going to be a short engagement anyway. I’m sure you can be patient.”
“You’re going to be a very impressive task master, aren’t you?” he observed dryly, one eyebrow rising.
“Will you mind?” she wondered wryly, setting her hands on the floor in front of herself so she could lean closer to him, her weight on her hands.
“Probably not,” he conceded without anything even resembling an argument. “I might fight back, though,” he cautioned, with something like a smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “Just so you’re warned.”
