Bear Faced Liar

by Alice Coldbreath

  “Clothes,” murmured Jared as they rounded the next aisle.

  “I just need some blouses and underwear,” she said firmly.

  “You're not wearing hot pants outside the trailer, baby.”

  Pris picked up some black shorts that actually extended down over a little thigh. “What about these?” she said holding them to her waist.

  He looked at them and raised an eyebrow. “You need jeans,” he said.

  “Well, clearly I like shorts,” she said plunking a hand on her hip. “I'm trying to compromise.”

  For some reason that seemed to amuse him. “Okay,” he said. “Add 'em to the cart.”

  She added a white pair as well and then Jared added a pair of jeans. Then she spotted the bras and headed over to that section trying to shake him off. For some reason she knew perfectly well what her bra-size was and it wasn't impressive. Snatching up a packet of cotton t-shirt bras in a multi-pack of white, black and pink she shoved them into the cart and tried not to feel self-conscious. She was a stripper for god's sake! How could she blush over picking bras in front of her fiancée? Then she grabbed two multi packs of white cotton bikini cut panties and a pack of fluffy socks and tossed those in as well. Then she spotted some fitted ditsy blouses with tiny dots and pin-tucks, and pretty frills around the caped sleeves. She picked out a black with white dots, a sky blue with white dots and a white with mint green dots.

  Jared meanwhile had picked up some actual t-shirts for her in an array of colors, a soft grey hoody and some matching yoga pants. Then he threw in a black pair as well and Pris felt she ought to step in. “Okay, that's enough for now.” she said hastily. “The cart is stacked.”

  “You sure this is enough?” He scratched the back of his neck, looking uncertain.

  “Definitely. And don't we need to go grocery shopping next?”

  “Don't really keep food in the trailer,” he said, slinging an arm across her shoulder and drawing her in close. She felt him kiss the top of her head and squeezed her eyes shut. God, he was so sweet when he wasn't being massively domineering and annoying. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him in a tight hug. A weird rumbling sound came from his chest under her ear that she somehow knew was approval. For some reason she never would have thought he would be into public displays of affection, which just showed how wrong you could be as he clearly did not have the slightest issue with it.

  Once they'd loaded up the truck with all her new stuff, Jared turned to her and announced they were going for breakfast.

  “Where you wanna go - diner in town or just go here?” he nodded to a generic chain brand diner on the strip mall.

  She hesitated. “Town,” she said. “I didn’t really get a good look at Cranston Falls yet.”

  He shrugged and unlocked the passenger door, helping her in.

  “Am I like, super clumsy or something?” she asked as he belted her in.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I just like taking care of my woman,” he said. “You got a problem with that?”

  "Not sure," she answered honestly, biting the side of her mouth. “Do I normally have a problem with it?”

  He rocked back on his heels a moment as if considering this. “It's never come up before,” he said finally and slammed the door shut, moving round to the driver side.

  “Never came up because you didn't act all proprietorial in Royston?” she probed when he climbed in the truck.

  He gave her a lop-sided grin at this. “I've always been proprietorial about you Pris,” he said. “Never doubt that.”

  To be honest, it was pretty hard to imagine him as a casual boyfriend. He started up the engine.

  “But you let your cousin watch me strip?” she pointed out.

  “He never saw you strip, baby.”

  “But...”

  “You think I would allow that?” he gave her an intense look before pulling out of the parking space.

  “Not really,” she muttered, lacing her fingers together in her lap. She stole a quick glance at him as he drove. It must have been hell for him having a stripper for a girlfriend, poor guy! She could hardly think of anyone less suited to dating a stripper. She remembered how adamant he'd been about her not leaving the trailer in the short shorts and wondered if he was making up for it now she had agreed to marry him by being totally O.T.T. possessive. Then, with a wince she remembered she had pawned his ring and decided to cut the guy some slack. Having made that decision, she reached for his hand and daringly placed it on her thigh with a studied casualness she didn't feel. When he turned to look at her, she stared out of the window, hoping he couldn't see her faint blush. God, when was she going to remember she was a totally brazen stripper?

  **

  Jared parked the truck outside Misty's diner with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it was going like a dream...on the other, he was barely keeping his shit together. Confrontational, ice-queen, rich-bitch Pristine Christine, turned him on something fierce. But this version of her... this version that called him honey in a warm, affectionate tone and not only let him touch her, but actually reached for him and encouraged it...? This version was making his brain implode. All he wanted to do was lay her on the nearest counter and yeah, that was pretty much it. Lay her. Then bite her and let everyone see that she was his. Then lock her in his trailer and throw away the key for a few years. Hibernate with her. Mark her so good that even if her memory came back it wouldn't matter cos she'd know, deep down and forever that he owned her ass. He felt twitchy and on edge. He felt rattled as fuck. Until he'd staked his claim he was on thin ice and he didn't like it one bit. Problem was, he hadn't exactly thought this through. This whole opportunity had been sprung on him and he'd just run with it. He felt a twinge of...what? Conscience? Some annoying nagging voice that he'd never even heard before was telling him he was an asshole for pulling this shit on her, and that there was no way in hell he could get her naked on false pretenses like this, let alone mate her. She was vulnerable. She trusted him, God damn it! But his bear was hollerin' pretty loud too. Things like she's ours, mate her and now.

  When he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket he noticed his hands were shaking.

  He punched his cousin on speed-dial and listened to Luke's freaked-out rantings for 60 seconds before he interrupted him. “Where are you?”

  “I'm working on the Thompson job like you told me to! But Debs has sent me a whole bunch of texts and I been stalling on how to reply!”

  “Relax. Just say you met Priscilla in Royston the weekend we went over Easter last year.”

  “What the hell Jared?” his cousin's tone was shocked as all hell. “I can't believe you're telling everyone she's Cilla!”

  “Just go with it, cuz.” Jared's voice was low and insistent. “But you didn't see her put on a show man. You just saw the club she worked at. That's it.”

  “What?”

  “You never saw her naked, Luke. Remember that.”

  “What the hell are you-?”

  Jared ended the call and rounded the truck to find Pristine Christine had managed to jump down for herself and was slamming the door shut. He held his hand out to her, and she took it without blinking.

  “Shouldn't we lock the truck?” she asked as they started toward the diner.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against him. “Naw baby, everyone round here knows that truck belongs to me.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  And soon everyone's gonna know you belong to me too, he thought possessively. His bear rumbled inside him in agreement. All ours. His bear had known this from the moment they had first seen her, but he'd needed some convincing that glossy, high maintenance Christina Lascombe was his mate. Well, he was convinced now. Nothing felt so right as the feeling of her tucked into his side as they walked across the car park. He stared down at her pearly toe-nails in those pink flip flops. Even her nearly-naked feet turned him on. Was this normal? When you know, you know, his father had always told him. Turned out he was ri
ght. He'd never felt like this before in his entire thirty-two years. This needy, this burning, all-consuming urge to possess and...protect. That was what was throwing him into a damn tail-spin! How could he protect his mate, when the threat he needed to protect her from was himself?

  The door jangled the bell overhead as they entered the diner and Jared steeled himself up to some curious glances being thrown their way.

  “Mornin',” he answered to the greetings thrown out as they made their way to a booth over by the far window.

  Christine's head was swiveling as she took in the mint green and silver decor and vintage vibe to the classic diner. “Wow, I love this place,” she said enthusiastically as she slid into the seat opposite him.

  Misty Michaels – proprietor - who had snuck up with her notepad, beamed at her with magenta lips. “Glad ya approve, hon,” she said retrieving a pencil from behind her ear. “What can I getcha this mornin’? I won't ask him,” she said gesturing toward him with her stubby pencil. “Pancakes. Bacon. Black coffee. Right?”

  “You know me, Misty,” he grinned. He looked across at Christine who was looking suddenly uncertain of herself.

  “Um. Can I have cream with my coffee please?” she asked.

  ”Sure thing hon’.” Misty cocked her head at her. “And to eat?”

  Jared tried to remember the contents of the huge gleaming kitchen in Stuart Harber's house.

  “Uh, you got any...yoghurt, Misty?” he asked.

  Misty's over-plucked eyebrows shot straight into her bottle-red hair. “Nuh-uh, hon,” she said sucking in her cheeks. She shot an uncertain look at Pris. “You want I should order some in?” she asked looking pained.

  “Fruit,” he said scratching the back of his head. “She likes fruit.”

  “We do waffles with berries and chocolate syrup,” said Misty looking triumphant.

  “Close enough,” said Jared.

  “Takes all sorts I guess,” she said dryly as she scooted off to the kitchen.

  Pristine's shoulders relaxed and she sank back against the seat. She rewarded him with a big smile as Misty beat a hasty retreat.

  Jared's eyes never left Christine's face. “Your smile's somethin' else, Pristine,” he said softly, reaching across the table-top for her hand.

  Her smile turned a little shy, though she grasped his hand between both her own. “Yours is nice too,” she said, her gaze dipping.

  It was making him feel tight in his chest seeing her sat opposite him, wearing his damn shirt, her eyes soft and warm.

  She cleared her throat. “We've probably done this a hundred times,” she said gesturing to the diner. “It's just it feels...pretty intimate. I feel stupid not remembering how we are together.”

  “Don't feel stupid,” he responded. “I can remind you. Don't worry about it.”

  “How did this even happen to me?” she asked, a hand flying unconsciously to the bump at her brow. “Was it on the bus?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “There was some kind of accident and I bumped my head?”

  He hesitated only a split second before nodding again.

  “Was anyone else hurt?”

  He shook his head.

  “Wow. I don't even remember the bus journey. Or the hospital,” she bit her lip. “Not a great start to our new life together,” she said with an uncertain laugh.

  “Oh I don't know,” he said, “Feels pretty damn great to me.” He couldn't keep the warmth out of his tone.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but their coffee was suddenly plunked down in front of them. It wasn't Misty this time, but one of her waitresses. Jared couldn't remember her name. A big-boned girl with lots of freckles and gingery hair. She was a bear shifter like himself and he remembered her family ran the local garage. The Shackletons. His gaze flipped to her badge. Carole-Ann. She stared at Pris with open curiosity.

  “Thanks,” said Pris.

  “Sure,” said Carole-Ann, turning to Jared. “This her? Your fancy piece from Royston?”

  Before he could even answer, Christine was holding out her hand. “Hi, that's me. I'm Priscilla. You can just call me Pris. Nice to meet you.”

  Carole-Ann took her hand and inspected the shell pink nail polish. “Sure,” she said and then before she'd even left the table she fished a cell-phone out of her apron pocket and started texting.

  Shit. This was gonna all over town before midday.

  Pris had turned her head and was watching the waitress’ ponderous retreat. “Tall. Is everyone around here statuesque?” she asked curiously.

  Which raised another issue, thought Jared. The population in Cranston Falls was predominantly bear shifter. About seventy-five percent at the last reckoning. It struck him that he actually had no idea how Pristine felt about shifters. Had she even know that her builders were were-bears? He had no fucking clue. Well, no time like the present. “Figures,” he grunted. “Most of us are shifters.”

  “Shifters?” Her eyes grew wide. “Most of us?”

  “Yeah honey. Your man's a bear-shifter,” he said taking a sip of coffee. “Which you like by the way.”

  “I like it?” she echoed, blinking.

  “Sure, what's not to like? Super-strength, super-smell, healthy appetite.”

  Her eyes grew wider still. “So I see.”

  Jared turned in his chair to see Misty approaching with his breakfast order. Two piled high stacks of pancakes with eggs and fried bacon. She put them down in front of Jared.

  “Yours is comin’,” she said to Pris. “Oh and I remembered we had other fruit. Blueberry muffins.”

  “Ah, great,” said Pris. She waited till Misty had shot off again before she added, “Wow, guess we're carb loading this morning. Are we planning to hibernate?”

  He paused in the act of picking up his fork. “You just make a bear joke, honey?” he asked. She was a fast adaptor. Couldn't fault her for taking that in her stride.

  “Is that not done?” she asked.

  “Making jokes or hibernating?” he asked biting into his pancake.

  Her lips quirked into a smile as she poured the cream into her coffee cup. “Both.”

  “We don't tend to hibernate, though snowstorms make us want to hole up. Jokes, depends who's makin' em. You can tell me as many as you want, Pristine.” He winked at her.

  There she was, blushing again. She exclaimed happily over her waffles and berries when they arrived though he noticed she eschewed the jug of chocolate syrup and looked frankly dismayed when three large blueberry muffins appeared at her elbow.

  “Erm, thanks...” she murmured to Carole-Ann.

  She put a brown sugar cube into her coffee and stirred it. Yeah, she definitely did not take it black.

  “So...” she looked up at him as she cut into her fluffy waffle. “Are my parents still around...?”

  He shook his head, swallowing a mouthful of eggs and bacon.

  “Okay. No parents, no siblings.” She sprinkled her berries evenly over the golden lattice and then looked at him thoughtfully. “What kind of bear?” she asked.

  “Brown bear.”

  “Have I seen it?”

  He rose an eyebrow.

  “Ah okay. Can I see it again?”

  “If you want,” he shrugged.

  “I'm guessing it's big.”

  He nodded.

  “How big?”

  “’Bout nine feet, 500 kilograms.”

  Her eyes bugged out. “Is that a normal size?”

  “For a full adult male shifter, yeah.”

  “Do you have like, tribe gatherings?” she ventured.

  He laughed. “No, baby. Bears tend to be solitary till they're mated. We have territories we tend to stick to. Cranston Falls is bear country. I keep an eye on my kin. But we don't live in compounds or communes like packs or prides.”

  She nodded, taking this in. She pointed her fork at her waffle. “This is good. But I can't eat this more than once a week, Jared. I won't fit in my shorts.”

  “
We could get some with elasticated waists?” he suggested lazily.

  She smiled at that. “There was a refrigerator in the trailer, I saw it. Is it empty?”

  “Might be a six pack in there,” he answered.

  “Can we pick up some supplies?”

  “Yeah, whatever you want.”

  She smiled at him again. “Can I cook?” she asked suddenly.

  “You tell me.”

  “I never cooked for you?”

  “Not once,” he admitted.

  She looked a little taken aback. “Wow, I really suck as a fiancée,” she muttered.

  “Not marrying you for your culinary skills, Pris,” he pushed back his empty plate and started on the second one. “Besides, there's not a whole lot of storage in the trailer. We can't exactly stock up. Easier to just get day-to-day supplies.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” she murmured. She was now ignoring the waffle and spearing the berries one by one and eating them instead. Then she propped her face on one hand and stared out of the window distractedly.

  “What's running through that pretty head, Pristine?” he found himself asking and reaching for her hand. He laced his fingers through hers and caught her eye determinedly.

  “Just wondering about employment opportunities for a non-shifter in Cranston Falls,” she answered honestly.

  “There's no big hurry about that,” he said unable to keep the frown off his face.

  “We've just blown a big chunk of cash replacing my wardrobe,” she reminded him.

  He felt his jaw drop a little. Holy shit. She had a walk in closet full of designer outfits at Harber's house and wouldn't be caught dead in the three bags of economy clothing currently waiting in his boot. Not if she were in her right mind!

  “Baby, that was cheap,”" he said firmly. “Don't even worry about it.”

  Her mouth set obstinately. “I need to contribute too if we're going to be together.”