by Michelle Fox
“Yep.”
“It’s got to be the middle of the night—way past your bedtime. What are you doing up?”
He laughed. “Technically, it’s morning. So ask me why I’m up so early.”
Slogging up the steps, she slid the pack from her shoulders and allowed it to drop onto the porch. “Why are you up so early?”
“Because the past ten days have been hell.”
Her gaze searched his. “Busy?”
“Yes.”
“Too busy to answer my phone calls, e-mails, and letters?” A note of hurt crept into her voice.
What could he say? I’m a bear and if I nip you again, you’ll be one too. The truth would send her running. He opened the front door. “Come in.”
“Are you sure? I feel like I should leave. Please don’t let me make a fool of myself.”
As she moved closer, he smelled bear fur on her skin, mixed provocatively with her own feminine scent. A jolt of inappropriate jealousy hijacked his thoughts. Andi had spent a couple hours affectionately hugging the bear with her thighs wrapped around him. How much would he have loved that? His cock lifted the edge of the towel. Damn! He willed it to stop, but it wouldn’t. The bear had been far less of a horndog than he was. Taking a shuffling step, he turned away from her to hide the rising bump beneath the towel. “I’m going to put some clothes on.”
“And I need to take some off.” She sniffed the fleece jacket and wrinkled her nose. “Musky.”
Mac led her inside and shut the door. “You look sleepy.”
Andi rolled her eyes. “I am.”
“Those pajamas you borrowed last time are clean. Why don’t I run a bath for you?”
“A bath?” She sighed. “That sounds heavenly. Yes, please.”
He made no mention that he wanted to be rid of his furry rival’s scent. “You didn’t get much dinner. Bacon jerky and a little piece of cheese isn’t enough. Why don’t I make us a snack?”
Eyes wide, she studied his face. “How do you know what I ate for dinner?”
The blunder could get him in a lot of trouble. “I didn’t. It was just a guess.”
Her eyes narrowed. “A damn good guess.”
On top of it all, his body reacted to her with riot force. For God’s sake, it had been easier to control himself in grizzly form. The bear had been respectful to Andi and had not given in to obnoxious behavior, like staring at her breasts while sporting a hard-on. If he weren’t careful, he’d make a total jackass of himself. With his dick sticking straight out in front, he turned his back to her and hobbled toward the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, he filled the tub.
She followed close behind and ran her finger down the fogged mirror on the medicine cabinet. “You just showered?”
Doubled forward, he hoped to keep his erection under wraps. “Yes, but don’t worry. There’ll be plenty of warm water.”
In an unexpected maneuver, she stepped in front of him and got in his face. The tip of her nose almost grazed his lips. She sniffed. “What did you have for dinner?”
His mouth remained shut. Deodorant soap wouldn’t mask what he’d eaten earlier. Again he’d underestimated her developing she-bear qualities. “Cereal.” His lips pressed tight together.
“Cereal?” She smiled. “Why didn’t your lips move when you said it? Are you practicing your ventriloquist act? By the way, was the cereal smoked with apple wood, because that’s what I smell on your breath?”
He remained silent. What could he say at this point that would support his cause? His bear wanted a mate and helped himself? He’d been lonely for years and wanted her too? Or the most awkward of all, blame it on fate and blurt something corny but true like, every time you smile—I fall deeper in love?
“Well? What did you have for dinner?”
“Cereal and a ham sandwich.”
“Oh.” She backed away. “That explains it.”
Andi bought it? For a second, he was tempted to cheer. “That’s a relief.”
“What’s a relief?”
“That we are going to get you out of those stinky clothes and into a bath. Pee-yew.”
Worry tugged at her brows. “Do I smell that bad?”
“No!” Horrified at his blunder, he faked a laugh, but it ended up sounding like a strangled sob. “I just prefer your pure female scent.”
“To what? Your answers are a little weird. Mac, you seem really nervous. Is this too much? Should I just go?”
He hunched forward, twisting sideways to face her. When the tub was half full, he turned the faucet off. “How is the bite on your neck healing?”
“It’s okay. I still feel it now and then. Certain things trigger it.”
“What sort of things?”
She blushed. “Thoughts, feelings. It’s a little hard to explain.” Tugging her collar aside, she displayed the curve of her throat. “See? The russet darkened. It reminds me of a henna tattoo of a crescent moon.”
He stared. A flood of erotic images danced before his eyes, all involving voluptuous Andi undressed and willing. Witnessing his mark on his dream woman almost caused his self-restraint to mutiny. At all cost, he had to step away from her before he did something stupid, like grab her and kiss her—or nip her again. “Enjoy the bath.”
Bending to unlace her boots, she smiled. “I will.”
As he stood, the towel unfurled from around his waist and would have slid to the floor had it not caught on the tip of his thick erection, where it swayed like a flag on the end of a pole.
“Whoa.” Her gaze traveled up and down. “I’m going to take that as a sign I’m welcome.”
He clutched the towel, incredibly embarrassed.
Her gaze fixated on the towel. “Mac?”
“Yes?”
Blushing, she suppressed a grin. “What sort of snack are you making for us?”
“Grilled cheese.”
A smile quivered on her lips. “What kind of cheese?”
“Cheddar.”
She stared at the towel. “Cheddar is a hard cheese.”
“A very hard cheese.” An awkward moment of silence followed.
Andi unzipped the top of her fleece jacket. “May I wear your pajamas?”
Shuffling backward, he exited the bathroom. “I’ll get them.”
“Mac?”
“Yes?”
“Go ahead and put another log on the fire. We need to talk.”
Chapter Seven
Andi shut the bathroom door, undressed, and climbed into the tub. Mac had mixed the bath at the perfect temperature. She coiled her hair into a bun at her nape and allowed herself to slip below the surface, until the water lapped at her collarbones. After wearing hiking boots all day, the decadent pleasure of allowing her feet to float weightlessly soothed her.
Her thoughts raced. Mac certainly lived up to her first impression of him. Jeez Louise, what a dark-eyed hunk, even better than she remembered. He had such a warm and approachable quality. What she glimpsed beneath the towel? Hot damn.
She’d really flustered him too. Poor Mac. It had been ages since she’d gotten a man that hot and bothered. A smile spread across her face, lingering until her cheeks ached. Good for her.
Knuckles rapped on the door. “I’m setting the pajamas right outside the door.”
“Thanks!”
In the next room, she heard Mac’s heavy footsteps moving around. The sizzle and scent of butter browning coupled with the earthy fragrance of herbal tea drew her attention. She soaked until the bath cooled, then got out and toweled off. Opening the bathroom door a crack, she retrieved the folded pajamas and put them on. Feeling naughty, she left several of the top buttons undone. She unfurled her wavy hair, letting it skim her shoulders in a soft cascade. The sexiest man to ever show her interest waited in the next room. How wonderful was that? She wiped the steam from the mirror and winked at her reflection. “Be the vixen.”
“Did you say something?” Mac called from the kitchen.
Damn, Mac had sharp heari
ng. “I said, I like what you’re fixin’!”
“Then come and join me.”
As she exited the bathroom, a cozy sight greeted her. Mac stood near the stove, wearing jeans, but had left his plaid shirt unbuttoned with his beautiful hairy chest on full display. Only the kitchen remained lit. The rest of the cabin was blanketed in shadows, with the exception of the iron stove, which cast an amber glow through the grate. A teapot, mugs, and place settings had been laid on the table.
“These are ready.” Mac flipped the golden grilled cheese sandwiches onto a plate. “I kept them warm.” He turned, took a long look at her, and smiled. “I’ll bet people tell you you’re beautiful all the time.”
She walked to the table and sat. “Actually, they don’t. Thank you for saying so.”
He carried the plate to the table and served her first. Then he sat across from her. “Go ahead and start.”
Picking up a triangular half of the toasty sandwich, she bit into it. Gooey melted cheese coupled with perfectly cooked crispy edges played a pretty symphony on her taste buds. “Mmm,” she moaned. “This is so delicious. I don’t know what I could do for you that would be half as good as this grilled cheese.”
A hint of mischief in his gaze hid behind a subdued smile. “I’ll think of something.” He poured them each a mug of steaming tea. “May I raise a touchy subject?”
She stopped chewing. “Sure.”
“How are you feeling?”
“My feet are tired, but I’m surprised how well I did on today’s hike.”
“I meant, how are you recovering from the accident?” His mouth twisted. He appeared to be wrestling with his thoughts and losing. “And the bear bite?”
She grazed her fingertips against her throat. “In some ways, I feel better than ever. Driving over a cliff and walking away with only a few bruises and a bite really put my priorities in perspective. I’m physically stronger and more focused.”
He nodded. “You look great.”
“I can do push-ups now. It’s a first. My entire life, I’ve never been the least bit sporty.” She patted her broad hip. “I ditched PE all of middle school. Putting on some muscle isn’t the only thing that’s changed.”
Mac’s expression became wary. His heavy brows sank. “What else has changed?”
Reaching for the teapot, she poured herself another splash of tea. “My sense of smell is more sensitive.” She sniffed the rising steam, then sipped. “For instance, I can tell this batch of tea has more clover than chamomile.”
“You’re right. The chamomile in the flower box got picked bare, so I grabbed a bunch of clover growing behind my greenhouse. An enhanced sense of smell isn’t such a bad thing, is it?”
“Bad is not the right word. I’m puzzled by my new reaction to smells. Fragrances I once loved are now too much. I gave a bottle of green-apple-scented dishwashing liquid to my neighbor because the smell woke me up at night. It used to be my favorite. At work, someone stuck a pumpkin-pie fragrance plug-in air freshener in the break room. I marched to the end of a long hallway to immediately get rid of it. The aroma drove me mad and made me want to go on a rampage in a pie factory. Don’t even ask what happened when a colleague took a jar of honey from her desk, opened it in front of me, and stirred a spoonful into her yogurt. I lunged across her desk and nearly tackled her like a quarterback, then snatched the jar. Major apologies were offered. It has occurred to me that maybe I hit my head harder than I thought in the car accident and that’s why all these odd things are happening.”
He bit into his sandwich and mumbled, between chewing, “I wouldn’t worry. Cravings aren’t so strange. It was just honey.”
“Just honey? No, you’re missing the bigger picture. Using force, I wrestled the jar from her hands. When I got hold of it, I licked the rim. Everyone in my office saw me do it.”
“Oh. That does sound… memorable. After all you went through this past year, including losing your mother, licking a honey jar isn’t the worst way to let off steam. Look at the world around us, who can say what’s normal anymore?”
She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Every night, I dream I’m turning into a bear. Sights, sounds, a shaggy coat, and everything. The dreams are brooding and often monotonous. Not a lot happens. Sometimes I just lumber around the mountains for hours at a time, snuffling the ground.”
“What?” He nearly choked on a bit of grilled cheese. Coughing, he clamped his hand over his mouth with his eyes watering. “Excuse me,” he rasped, and turned away. “You’ve already started bear dreaming?”
Uncrossing her arms, she set the mug down. “See? I think I slammed my head on a soft spot and the doctors missed it. Not only do I dream about bears, I even write to them.”
Swirling the liquid in his mug, he then sipped. “Bears in general?”
“No, the bear—the one that saved me. I’ve gotten a little obsessed.”
Mac wadded his paper napkin and began shredding the edges. “So you made this trip to see the bear, not me?”
“I wanted to see you too, say thank you, and talk a little more about Tor MacBrun.”
He tossed the destroyed napkin aside. “I’m happy for a midnight visitor, but I’m a wee bit jealous the bear gets the love poems.”
She froze. “I never mentioned poems.”
“You said you wrote to the bear.” Shifting on the chair, he appeared uncomfortable. “I just assumed you weren’t sharing laundry lists.”
Leaning closer, she reached out to touch Mac’s face. “You know when you raise your brows like you did just now, you sort of look like the bear.”
“I do?”
“Yes. It’s a compliment. My bear is a very handsome creature.”
He glanced away with a big smile on his face. “Your bear?”
“The bear’s smart too. He can practically talk.”
“And you know this how?”
“I met him on the trail tonight.”
“A rendezvous with a bear?”
“Not a rendezvous, it was a surprise. You won’t believe this, but he saved me a second time. A black bear was trashing my backpack, and then this beautiful, bronze grizzly just charged out of nowhere and saved the day. I’m one lucky girl, eh?”
Retrieving the mangled napkin from the tabletop, he wiped a crumb from his mouth. “Bronze grizzly? Sounds like the Mr. Darcy of woodland creatures. Listen to yourself. You got it bad. Maybe Grizzly Adams will be next month’s centerfold in Playgirl. Buy a copy and you can drool over it all you like.”
She laughed, lifting the mug to her lips. “You’re just jealous because I’m already half in love with the bear. How could I not be? He’s a fucking four-pawed fur hero.”
“I’ll bet he even wiggles his ears at you too.”
“He does and it’s adorable.”
Mac sipped his tea while doing his squinty, sparkly-eye thing that he did so charmingly. “Why don’t you marry him?”
She swished her hand through the air. “It’s all too new. We don’t even know each other. It’s possible the grizzly already has a wife and cubs. Besides, he hasn’t asked me.”
“Ol’ Griz is a talking bear, so I guess he’ll get around to kneeling on bended forepaw to pop the question when the time’s right.”
“He doesn’t talk so much as grunt.”
“But he saves those soft, special grunts just for you, right?”
“I hope so.” She glanced at him sideways. “Do you want to know the truth?”
Doubt wavered in his gaze. “Sure.”
“I came today because I wanted to see you.”
“I’m very happy you’re here, but…” He took hold of her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We were supposed to get together next month. Remember?”
“You wouldn’t answer my calls, so I had to come.”
“That’s right. You had to come here. You had no choice. I did something, and I have to be honest about it.”
“What?”
“I bit….” His f
ace contorted. “Oh, God, how am I going to explain myself?” He paused, his expression growing somber.
The sudden change of mood alarmed her. “Say it.”
“Andi, I bit you. I didn’t mean to do it. I know my actions were disrespectful.” His hand covered his heart. “The man in me would never have done it, but the bear is more practical. It knows what it wants when it sees it. It was wrong of me to do it and then withhold the information from you—”
A weird little shiver raced down her arms and made the tiny hairs stand. “Slow down! You didn’t bite me. The bear bit me.” She tugged the pajama collar aside. “See? Look at the size of those marks. This is not a human bite.”
“It’s a bearserker’s bite.”
“It’s a what?” she gasped.
“I’m one of the last in a long line of bearserkers—men who can take on the shape of a bear.”
“Whoa! This is a MacBrun delusion, right?” She drew a rattling breath. How would she bring up the topic of Tor MacBrun without sounding like an opportunistic stalker, which she sort of was at this point? Every spare minute of the last few days had been spent googling records and reading anything she could find about the history of the area. The more she discovered, the deeper her fascination with the place became. “I’ve done my homework for Tor MacBrun and man, oh, man, from the late Dark Ages on those folks loved their bears. Obsessed was closer to the truth. Bears on the family crest. Bears emblazoned on shields. Bears carved into oak trees. Bears woven into the tapestries. Bears embossed on pewter tankards. Bears, bears, bears, bears…. What’s with the bears? Are the MacBruns so identified with bears that you actually believe you are one?”
The lines of his mouth flicked downward. “It’s true. I’m a bear.”
“This is a dangerous thing to say, but I sort of understand what you’re saying.”
“How so?”
“For the past ten days, I’ve almost convinced myself I’m turning into a bear. I feel like one. Every night is filled with restless dreamtime bear journeys, where I’m always looking for something I can’t have. What’s with that?”
Mac’s gaze fixated on her. “Without knowing it, I think you’ve eavesdropped on my dreams. I’ve been living alone in a cabin for the last several years, not because I want to, because I can’t trust myself. I’m thirty-eight. My life is slipping away. I’m not a complete hermit or virgin, or anything like that, it’s just I’m at an age when I want more. I want something real. I’m tired of hiding what I am and living in fear that the bear within will lose patience and bite someone.”
