by Olivia Arran
Even when I wasn’t sure it was?
But that was me—my life. She had only lived a short while, a fraction of time compared to the one hundred long, lonely years that I’d existed. She was young; she deserved to be happy.
So, I would help her. Maybe it would even help me. But I wouldn’t take advantage of her, it wouldn’t be fair, not when all I could offer her was coffee in the morning. No matter how much I wanted to drag her into my arms and never let her go.
Wait, what? Engage your brain, fur ball. Teetering on the edge of panic, I edged forward and sniffed the air, this time forcing myself to process her scent. Fuck, she smelled good. Right. Perfect.
I let out a rumble, part man, part bear, all appreciation.
She jumped on a squeak, her eyes widening, but she didn’t move away.
I wanted to tell her that it was okay, that she didn’t have to be afraid. Not anymore. Instinct taking over, I slid my hand around her cheek, pressing the pads of my fingers into her hair and spreading the silky strands as they slid against my palm. Moving closer, I took another deep breath. Pleasure spiked in my chest, tightening and squeezing.
She blinked up at me through lashes spiked with tears, saying nothing, but telling me everything by not refusing my advance.
I shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. I had nothing to offer her, and she deserved everything. A man who could commit with his whole heart, jump straight in and swear his love. Not me. Not a man who had nothing left to give.
Her lips parted as though plucking my thoughts straight from my face. Her body swayed toward mine, as if tugged by the same invisible string I could feel tugging at the center of my chest.
I’m her boss. She’s hurting. I’m a broken man, no good for anyone. She doesn’t know who I am, that I’m no good for her. All true, yet none held the power to hold me back.
“You don’t want this.” I whispered, but my head was already lowering. The need to know her intimately was driving me forward and I was powerless to stop it. Digging in my heels, I halted my path, my muscles quivering under the strain of locking them down tight. Gritting my teeth together, I let her go, releasing her from what would ultimately be disaster.
She titled her head, big brown eyes questioning me, searching for answers.
As if I held the key to everything.
My mouth dry, I searched for the right words. Did she know about shifters? Would she understand this insane need clawing at me and driving me to distraction?
Why, even when I knew it to be true, I was still punishing myself, but I couldn’t stop.
She reached up on tip toes and closed the gap, pressing her lips against mine in the softest slide of warm skin and hot breath.
Shock held me rigid.
Her hands rested on my chest, pressing down on my heart while she proceeded to innocently destroy any chance I had of ever walking away. She was her. My true mate. There was no doubt left in my mind that I had found her, every cell in my body screaming that I claim her as mine.
A thunderous roar echoed in my ears, my bear’s triumphant satisfaction unmistakable.
Air brushed against my lips as she broke away.
My arms locked down around her, holding her to me and securing her place by my side. I had been a fool to think I could run from this, that I even wanted to run.
Doubt prodded at the edge of my mind, an insidious whisper reminding me that I wasn’t the man I’d once been. That I didn’t deserve happiness.
I shoved it away with the same ruthless determination that had kept me alive.
Jeanie wasn’t just some woman that I could walk away from, she was the only one that could convince me to stay.
To live again.
Chapter Six
Jeanie
I pulled away from the kiss on a gasp, lips tingling and knees weak. It had only been a press of lips, chaste and brief, but everything had happened in that moment. My world had shattered, everything I’d thought true; destroyed in seconds.
Memories betrayed, threatening to be erased as if everything I’d gone through had meant nothing. Diddlysquat in the great scheme of things.
Kissing Max had felt like coming home. To survive a raging thunderstorm and find shelter after endless days of searching and fighting for survival, losing myself in a split second at the first whisper of protection. Of kindness and lust.
Love.
I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t survive it. Not again.
Jerking away, I turned and ran.
His hands slid from me, letting me go. “Jeanie, wait!” He sounded anguished, unsure.
I kept going. I couldn’t bear to see his face. I’d been the one to kiss him, caught up in the fantasy that it was okay. That a kiss wouldn’t hurt anyone. A simple kiss, that’s all it should have been, all I had wanted, not this, a rock-my-world-give-anything-to-touch-this-man kind of kiss. I heard him move behind me. “Stay away!” I sped up, reaching for the door. My bad knee twisted, my leg crumpling beneath me as my hands hit the cold, stone floor. Biting back the urge to scream, my head dropped forward and shoulders hunched, I pushed back against the wave of nausea rolling over me as it threatened to suck me into the black void. It’s only pain, nothing new.
His hands closed around my shoulders.
Shrugging them off, I straightened, pushing myself off the floor, trying to cling to the wall without making it too obvious. I didn’t need his pity, or his concern. This was just the daily reminder of everything I would never be allowed to forget.
How I had nearly lost my leg when my husband had died. How I had loved that man, my childhood best friend, more than life itself. That I still hated that I had been the one that had lived. Me. The one happy to float through life without thought or care for the future. Well, not anymore. I cared now. I was trying to make up for everything I’d taken for granted. I had rebuilt my life inch by inch until I could stand again—literally.
What would Max say if he saw me in all my glory? Naked and scarred. How would he like that?
How could I even think of letting him get that close?
But, after the connection I’d just felt, would I be able to say no if he asked?
“I’m sorry, Jeanie, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
His gravelly voice jerked me out of the spiraling wallow of self pity I’d fallen into. Damn him for sounding so contrite, so worried and kind. Double damn him. I wasn’t kidding myself, if I’d been anywhere near a normal woman, looking for love and happiness, I’d have run into his arms and never let go. I’d have given this big, sexy man a chance.
A quick glance at his face had me leaning harder against the wall, and it had nothing to do with my knee. Underneath the concern that radiated from him, warming me and smoothing away the rough edge of guilt that I regularly used to punish myself, was interest. Interest in big, capital letters. The neon, flashing lights, hit you over the head kind. No subtlety or dating dance two step—he was letting me know that if I wanted him, he was there for the taking.
Cursing under my breath, a traitorous shiver trickled down my spine at the thought of him laid out naked and willing. I pulled myself together and set my mouth in a straight, no-nonsense line. I could indulge in fantasy Max later, strip him down and let my imagination run wild, but only when I was safe. When I couldn’t accidentally indulge in the real thing, something that would only end in heartbreak. Mine.
I was clearing my throat, ready to mutter an excuse, when he moved closer, crowding into my personal space and ignoring all social niceties. The throat clearing turned into a cough, then a squeak when he slid a hand around my waist, tugging me toward him until he replaced the wall’s job of supporting me.
Shit. What had I been about to say? He was too close, smelled too good, and, strangely, reminded me of an ancient warrior, ferocious and devious. “You’re not playing fair,” I whispered, but I didn’t pull away.
“I’m helping you, that’s all,” he whispered back, but despite the hint of a smirk on his face, his voice was all s
erious.
“I don’t need your help.” It came out an embarrassing whimper.
“I know.”
“You can let me go.” Even as I said the words, a part of me was screaming in denial.
His hand tightened where it gripped my hip as he winced, his shoulders lifting then falling again. “I’m not sure I can.” Moving me away from the wall, he walked me toward the bench set in the middle of the room.
I was reading way too much into this. He liked me, so what? He’d probably end up liking a lot of women in the town. It was pure luck that I’d run into him first.
Luck? Keep telling yourself that.
Just because I’d felt something when we’d kissed, didn’t mean he had too. His world might not have moved. Hell, who was I kidding? No way had I rocked this man’s world. Not me. I sank down onto the bench, a grateful moan escaping as the weight lifted off my knee. I was delusional, that was it. Had gotten myself worked up for nothing. He wanted a little fun; all I had to do was turn him down and he’d move onto the next conquest. Easy peasy. No drama or tears required. I studiously ignored the way my nails dug into the battered wooden bench and the sickening feeling that had settled into my stomach. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, I’m not … in the market for anything like that.” I kept my eyes fixed on the floor in front of me, but it was as if I could feel his eyes narrowing on me.
Sitting down next to me, his thigh pressed against mine despite the whole length of empty bench stretching out next to him. “Like that?”
“A man,” I offered, though he wasn’t really asking for an explanation. I risked a glance, expecting to see anger or determination on his face.
I didn’t expect a single raised eyebrow of incredulous disbelief.
“A hook up, or whatever you want to call it. I’m not like that,” I blurted out, hating the fact that I’d buckled under the weight of his judgmental facial hair.
His mouth twitched. “And I’m very glad to hear it.”
My turn to wiggle an eyebrow, though while he had the move nailed, I had a feeling I was lacking in the facial judgment department. “Really? It’s what you were looking for, right?
His lips continued to twitch. “What gave you that idea?”
I pointed a finger at him, then at myself, pulling a face at the same time.
“Uh, no. You’re going to have to spell it out, sweetheart.” He shoulder bumped me, his voice dropping to a low husk on the term of endearment.
Ignoring the burst of pleasure, I squirmed in my seat, hardly able to believe he was making me say this out loud. “You’re … you. And I’m … me.” I dragged out the words, hiding my mortification behind a good dose of sarcasm.
“Yes. You are.”
I blinked at his wide smile. Apparently, he wasn’t put off one bit.
“But— Hell, you’re gorgeous!” My hands flew up in the air as the words came out in a rush.
Another shoulder bump, this time lingering. His eyelids lowered, until his gaze was lazy and satisfied. And a whole lot of hungry looking. “Thank you, sweetheart. So are you,” he drawled, low and husky, his eyes zeroing in on my lips, then dropping to my chest, before sweeping all the way back up to meet my startled expression.
“No. I’m not.”
“Jeanie, I don’t know what you—”
The hesitantly confident woman inside me who’d been shaking her ass, wilted at the sound of my given name. Where had the soft sweetheart gone? “I have scars. Lots of them. Big, fat, ugly scars. Messed up scars.” I fired the words out, deliberately shooting down any chance of him ever wanting to see me naked. Because, really, when it came down to it, no matter how much I wanted him, lusted and fantasized and drooled after the man, how the hell could I get naked in front of him? It was out of the question. No one had seen me in my birthday suit since the accident, let alone a man with no hang-ups and the perfect body. Muscles for miles, abs I could wash clothes on, and an ass I could dig my nails into and squeeze tight, he didn’t know the first thing about being ashamed. Not waiting for his answer, I pushed up, off the bench.
His large hand pulled me back down, sliding down my arm and onto my thigh, leaving me with no uncertainty that he wanted me to stay put. He didn’t blink, just looked at me in that way he had, as if he could see into my soul. See every hurt I was hiding. “And?”
His quip set me off, the easy dismissal of something that ruled my life. “You’re infuriating! Don’t you see? You can’t want me.”
His hand left my thigh as he stood up, moving away in long strides that put him at the other side of the room in seconds. “Did I ever say that I did want you?”
Oh. My. God. I waited for the ground to open up, for the heat rising in my cheeks to consume and burn me to a crisp. “Uh, no,” I eventually muttered when it became apparent he expected an answer.
He nodded, folding his arms over his chest, his biceps bunching and forearms cording in an unconscious display of strength. “Let’s rewind a bit then. We kissed, at least I think it was a kiss, more of an accidental brush of lips, like we stumbled and fell on each other.” He snapped his fingers, nodding to himself. Sliding his hands into his front pockets, he continued with a small smile, “Of course, it was nice. Kisses between two people who find each other attractive usually are, and I’d like to do it again. But, if you don’t want to, that’s okay too.” He rocked back on his heels, apparently relaxed and unaffected while he blew up my world.
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“Uh. Okay, I don’t want to?”
“You don’t sound too sure, Jeanie.” He wasn’t asking a question, and I couldn’t blame him.
I wasn’t sure, but I had to make him think that I was. Time to put a little backbone into it. Sticking my chin out, I forced myself to my feet, testing my weight on my knee. When it held, the pain having faded to a dull throb, I forced a smile, but it might have been more of a grimace. “I’m sure.”
“Good, good. We’ll run the drill later, when you’re a little less … flustered.” Leaving me with that, he turned and walked away.
Not knowing what to do now, I followed him back down the hallway and into kitchen area. At Max’s low murmur, Ted disappeared, probably to hole up somewhere to catch some shut eye, knowing him.
Flicking on the coffee maker and dragging out two mugs, Max indicated that I take a seat.
Heart hammering in my chest, I didn’t question the silent command. What the hell had just happened? I’d only met the guy yesterday and already I felt like I was mourning a bad breakup.
A mug of steaming coffee landed in front of me, followed by cream and sugar.
“Sweetheart?”
“Uh huh?” I glanced up, still reeling with an absurd sense of loss, but try as I might, I couldn’t convince myself that I was being ridiculous.
Blue eyes burned into me, a hint of silver flashing under the stark strip light. Planting his hands on the table, he leaned close, until I could count the individual whiskers on his jaw, smell his minty breath, and barely restrain myself from lunging at him.
“I’m going to enjoy changing your mind.” Pulling back abruptly, he winked then sauntered off, leaving me staring after him with my mouth hanging open.
Damn, he has a fine ass.
What the hell was I supposed to do?
And what kind of threat was that?
Chapter Seven
Max
Days passed, the team sliding into a routine smooth and well oiled, Jeanie passing every goddamn test I set out for her with flying colors. She was one of the best people I’d ever had work for me, some kind of sick torture arranged by the goddess, I was sure. I couldn’t have fired her even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t. Not anymore. I needed to keep her close, so I could find a way around this wall she’d erected.
But why?
See? Torture. Every goddamn day. She laughed, she smiled, she brooded, but underneath all this normal behavior I could see it. Th
e kernel of sadness she hid from the world, from me.
It was unacceptable. It was driving me crazy.
And she still hadn’t succumbed to my charm, and I’d been plenty charming. Hell, I’d been so charming I’d even forgotten what I was supposed to be doing, pinching myself late at night after another day spent with her. Just being with her; talking and joking and existing in the same space.
It was too much; I needed out. Needed to release her from the dance she wasn’t aware we were doing.
Tracking Ted down wasn’t hard, I followed his trail of scent to one of the small rooms tucked away at the back of the corridor, this one kitted out with a cot and not much else. Startling the man awake I informed him I was going for a run, changed into a pair of shorts, grabbed my iPod, jammed the speakers in my ears and set off out of the door. With a pounding beat drowning out all thought, I swerved across Main Street and set off into the forest, cutting a path through the trees and dodging low lying branches and bushes.
Familiar lyrics screamed in my ears, but I didn’t hear them, their words only serving to quiet a mind that was fast edging toward panic. Heart pounding, I surged forward, pushing my legs faster, arms pumping and chest straining as I forced in each ragged breath. Dappled light lit my way, casting the forest in a magical glow, the sweet scent of nature ripe and blooming floating on each humid breath. Sweat slicked my skin, dripping into my eyes with each pounding step.
I couldn’t run any faster. Couldn’t escape the knowledge.
I couldn’t let her go.
Fuck that. I didn’t want to let her go. But I didn’t want a mate.
Skidding to a halt at the edge of a lake, I dropped to my knees, welcoming the shooting pain as rocks and branches cut into my skin. One tug and the earbuds were out, the music wailing on, tinny and distant. Silence reined. What the hell am I doing? I’d sworn never to let someone get close again. Never. Not after Tia. The memory brought with it a pain familiar and true, Tia’s face shadowy in my mind as it faded with time. But I wouldn’t forget, she deserved better than that.
