by T. S. Joyce
“Is that good or bad?”
Aux shook his head slowly and scanned the darkening woods. “Only time will tell, but I think bad for me.”
Why did that admission sting her so much? Why did it make her chest feel too tight to draw a deep breath? “What do you mean, I’m bad for you?”
He smiled but it didn’t reach his churning silver eyes. “Did you have fun today?”
Oh, she knew what he’d just done. He wasn’t even that smooth at a subject-change, but okay. “I had a blast. It was the perfect day to forget about the mess of my life. I actually felt normal. It’s been a while.”
“Want to hear something crazy?” he asked.
“Yep!”
“You made me feel normal today, too.”
The ache in her chest lessened. “Been a while?”
“It’s maybe the first day I’ve ever felt normal.” And there it was—the smile that reached his eyes and transformed his face into something awe-striking. “It just took a blow-dryer-obsessed stubborn woman who wouldn’t fuckin’ quit talking to give it to me.”
She giggled and took a sip of her beer. “I’m pretty magical like that. Aux Franklin Buttermilk, I am a diamond in a sea of pebbles. The crows gave you luck when they pointed to me.”
“Auxor Cyrus Bane,” he corrected her.
“Oh my gosh, how are you this hot and have the coolest name in the whole world?”
He snorted. “I guess I’m a diamond in a sea of pebbles, too.” His voice sounded very sarcastic right now, like he didn’t really realize how different he was. Aux stared into the fire for a minute before he spoke again. “My brothers have unique names too. Moore Dunnan Bane, and Bricken Gunn Bane.”
“Your parents must be very cool.”
“My parents are dead, and before you give me that sympathetic look and tell me you’re sorry for my loss, don’t be. The world is better off without them.”
Eesh. “How old are your brothers?” she asked in an attempt to change the subject like he’d done, and to take some of the fire from his eyes that had appeared at the mention of his parents.
“Same age as me. Thirty-five.”
Gwen nearly choked on the beer she was sipping. “You’re a triplet?”
“Twins and triplets run in my family. There hasn’t been a single cub born in thirty generations.”
Cub? “Sooo, you’ll probably have twins or triplets?”
Aux shook his head slowly. “The Bane line will end with me and my brothers. We took an oath. We’re breaking the curse.”
“What curse? Why would you take an oath never to have kids?”
He slid her another empty smile. “Because the world would be better off.”
She didn’t understand. “So that’s why you live way up here in the mountains alone?”
Aux gestured in the direction of the barn. “I’m not alone.”
“Pigs and chickens can’t be your only friends.”
“You’re friends with a blow dryer. You can’t say anything.”
She belted out a laugh and took a bite of beef jerky. “Billie is an amazing listener.”
A deep, reverberating chuckle sounded from him and it warmed her from the inside out.
The fire was mesmerizing. “I don’t know if I want to have kids. I’m supposed to want them, but I’m thirty-three and that urge just never hit me. I’ve been on birth control since I was sixteen,” she admitted. “My friend Tabby says it’s because I just haven’t met the right man yet, but I don’t know.” She let her thoughts on that trail off. “I guess what I’m saying is, whatever reasons you have for not wanting kids, it’s okay. You aren’t alone. People have lots of reasons for those decisions.”
When she looked over at him, Aux was staring at her intently. “You really don’t want cubs?”
Cubs. Sometimes he spoke so strangely. “So far, no. I keep waiting for some huge maternal instinct to consume me, but I’ve held lots of babies and mostly the whole time I’m holding them I think I’m glad I get to do the fun stuff with them and hand them off to the parents to change their diapers and do the sleepless nights. I made straight Cs in school. What am I going to teach a baby?”
A chuckle escaped him. Just a little one as he frowned at her with an unfathomable expression.
“Okay, make fun of me for knowing I will make a bad parent.”
“You make a great mom to the damn baby pig you’ve devoted yourself to bottle feeding. You’re fine.”
“Well Samson just needs food and water and love, not to learn his fuckin’ ABCs.”
Aux belted out another laugh, louder this time.
Ever the smooth conversationalist, she blurted out, “I have a box of letters my ex wrote to me.”
His laugh died off. “You have them here?”
She looked down at the little box she’d brought out and set between their chairs. Currently it was serving as the table for the meat snacks. “They’re mostly from the first couple years I was with him. Before he discovered he got off on sneaking around and making a fool of me. I had this dumb plan to have a few good days at the dude ranch and build my self-esteem back up, and then burn the links to my past.”
She turned to him. He was staring back at her with intensity sparking in his eyes. “You like letters?”
“I like them from people who mean well in my life.”
His attention ghosted to the box, and then back to her. “Burn it.”
“Now?” she asked.
Aux nodded. “Burn the links to your past, Gwen. You aren’t that girl anymore, and you’ll never let a man make a fool out of you again. Swear it.”
And in this moment, she felt strong enough to make that promise. She never wanted to feel less-than again. Aux made her feel like she could do anything. Already she’d learned how to work a chainsaw, drive a side-by-side through the snowy woods, and work with animals…this was her moment. Her life was back on track right now, in this cold snowy evening by a bonfire. Her face was destroyed but she was still kicking because she was a motherfucking rubber band. Pull her back and she was going to snap right into place as soon as the pressure released.
“I swear.”
“Good girl.”
She was practically glowing from those two words he uttered. Aux was a man who liked tough people because he was very tough. She liked when he seemed proud of her. It drove her forward. How long had it been since a man had pushed her ahead instead of pulling her backward?
She grabbed the box, opened the lid, and flung the folded letters onto the pile. She threw the shoe box too, then watched them all catch fire and fade to ashes. With every breath she took there by the fire, a weight on her shoulders she hadn’t realized she carried lifted off of her.
Aux came to stand right beside her, and she slipped her hand into his. He tensed, gripping her hand too tight, but didn’t release her. She was almost too chicken to look up into his face, but she forced herself to because he liked tough. And it turned out she liked tough, too.
His chest rose and fell with his fast breathing, and his eyes were roiling with that strange color as he held her trapped in his gaze. Little by little, his grip on her hand loosened until she thought he would let her go.
Sparks of heat were snapping where their skin touched. Right as she thought he would let go, he did something that shocked her. He rubbed his thumb gently across her hand, drawing little circles.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
She shook her head because she didn’t understand.
He swallowed hard. “Does it hurt when I touch you?”
Gwen whispered, “No. It makes me feel safe.”
His nostrils flared and he brushed her cheek with the tip of his finger. “What about now?”
She shook her head just slightly, so he could still touch her. “It feels good.”
His gaze dipped to her lips. Aux leaned down and just before his lips touched hers, Gwen closed her eyes. His mouth was gentle against hers. He only gave her a peck and held for three s
econds before he eased away with a shuddering sigh. “What about now?” he asked, his forehead resting against hers.
“I want more.”
“Shhhhit,” he murmured.
Eyes still closed, reveling in the heat that wafted from him and enveloped her, she asked, “Is that bad?”
“Yes,” he said. The growl was back in his words.
“Why?” She opened her eyes so she could see his face when he answered.
Aux straightened to his full height and pulled her tight against his chest. He swayed her slightly for a few seconds before he said, “Because I wasn’t supposed to find you.”
Chapter Six
The bear wouldn’t leave her.
Not when he knew what was coming.
Aux paced the woods near her window, his huge paws sinking deep into the snow with every step. He growled on every frozen breath, his gaze reaching for her dark window over and over again.
Gwen was his.
Fate had to be so smug right now. Sitting there in front of her crystal ball, laughing that she’d somehow put his mate right into his path.
His touch didn’t hurt her. He didn’t hurt her.
The bear spun and walked the other way, eyes on her window, eyes always on her window.
She was asleep inside. He could hear her steady, deep breathing. Could hear how slow her heart-rate was. She’d been happy tonight. He’d made her happy. She’d let him hug her for so long. Would she ever realize how good it had felt for him to touch another person and not have them flinch away in pain or disgust?
She was bright and light, and happy, and healing, and he was…he was…
The bear let off a growl.
He was a destroyer.
Aux forced himself to turn away from the window and rove deeper into the woods. He needed to hunt. He needed to kill because blood was the only thing that made him feel steady. A good snow hunt would take his mind off the warm, fragile woman who owned him but didn’t know it yet.
Caw, caw.
At the ugly noise from above, he planted his paws and couldn’t drag his body another inch into the woods away from Gwen.
As if to remind him that he would be hunted soon, the crows above had let off their first cries in two days.
They would be here soon.
He couldn’t just go traipsing into the woods and leave Gwen unprotected.
He blew three frozen breaths and then turned back. Tonight wouldn’t be about hunting. It would be about securing his territory.
Now, Gwen was a part of that.
She’d held his hand and started something neither of them could undo.
She’d said he made her feel safe.
Well…Gwen had no idea how safe she really was.
Now she had the fealty of a grizzly.
Chapter Seven
Gwen woke up to the smell of fresh coffee.
An instant memory of the kiss with Aux last night dragged a sleepy smile from her lips.
She stretched her legs under the warm sheets and propped up on her elbow. The clink of a metal pan sounded from the kitchen, and just over the scent of coffee was the smell of batter and butter.
She slipped out of bed and pulled on a hoodie she’d stolen out of his closet. It went down to her knees, but it was comfortable. The carpet was soft against the pads of her feet as she made her way into the bathroom. Teeth brushed and make-up applied (which didn’t help that much because her bruising and swelling still looked awful), she freaked out and messed with her hair a little too much before she made her way into the living room.
In the attached kitchen, Aux was standing over the stove flipping pancakes. “I’m making breakfast,” he said in that sexy voice of his without even looking up. Dang, he had good senses.
He turned and looked her up and down. A slow smile took his lips. “You look better in that hoodie than I do.”
Her cheeks heated and she wrapped it tighter around her. “It’s my new favorite piece of clothing. I might steal it.”
He turned back to the pancakes. “Won’t be stealing if I give it to you.”
“Really?”
He nodded and added the freshly cooked pancakes to a huge stack on a plate. “I like you wearin’ my things. Makes you smell like me.” Ooooh the snarl in his voice had chills rippling up her spine in a good way. He should’ve been a book narrator.
Bacon was sizzling in a huge cast iron skillet on the back burner. Feeling brave, Gwen tiptoed up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He tensed, but it lasted longer than yesterday. Almost immediately, his muscles began to relax and he slid his big, calloused, strong hand over her arms.
“Today it’ll be clear enough to go work on that downed tree.”
With a sigh, Gwen rested her cheek against his back. “I don’t want to go back to real life.”
“Mmm. Do you want to come with me when I go?” he asked. “I have an extra chainsaw. You can help.”
“Ummm, hell yeah!” she sang. “I’m a pro at the chainsaw.”
He snorted. “We’ll be lucky if you make it to evening with both of your arms still attached.”
Gwen kissed him on the back and said, “Oh ye of little faith. You shall see. And then you’ll want to hire me as your assistant and keep me around forever.”
He didn’t answer, just pressed his hand tighter over her arms. “I’ll get breakfast on the table if you feed the little oinker.”
“I’ll go put some pants on.”
“No, he’s in that carrier by the front door. He wasn’t doing so well when I checked on him this morning. Figured you could pamper him a little today. The bottle is over there.” He jutted his chin toward a full bottle at the end of the counter by the fridge.
“Awwww! You care!”
“I care about pancakes,” he grumbled.
Mmm hmm. Deep, deeeep down, Aux was a softie. She grabbed the bottle and grabbed Samson from the carrier. He only squealed like a psycho for a few seconds before she got the bottle’s nipple popped in his mouth and he relaxed against her. “You should make him a house pig,” she said as she sank into a chair at the kitchen table.
“Never. That answer is a definite never. Pigs belong in the barn.”
“But look how tough and sturdy he is. He wants to live. I looked up pigs once, and you can teach them to poop outside like dogs. I think. And also train them to sit on command. Pigs are very smart, and Samson will be the smartest of all.”
Aux was staring at her with a dead-eyed look when she glanced up. “It’s okay to have one little pet.”
“Keep talking about making him an inside pig and I’ll toss him back outside with his mother and let nature take its course.”
“I forbid it,” she said as Aux set a plate of buttered pancakes in front of her.
“You forbid it?” he asked.
“Yep. Samson Hamson Bane is special, and he is my pig until I leave, so no tossing him out.”
“Bacon?” he asked, offering her a plate of the delicious meat.
“Not in front of our child.”
“Oh Jesus,” he grumbled. Aux set about a dozen pieces of bacon on his plate, along with sixteen pancakes, and went to work eating.
And so did she, as soon as Samson had finished his bottle. She bundled him up tight in the little blanket from his carrier and he didn’t move, just fell fast asleep in her lap to the sound of her and Aux talking.
After breakfast, she got dressed in her warmest layers, his hoodie, and his jacket that she’d worn yesterday. She nestled Samson into his carrier and then pranced out of the door Aux was holding open for her. He’d loaded up chainsaws into the tow truck while she’d been getting ready. He had already warmed up the rig and scraped the snow and ice off it.
He was extra handsome today in his work pants and rubber-soled boots, with a winter coat and brown beanie that made his eyes look even brighter somehow.
The air was already running hot, so she put her hands in front of the vents while Aux drove them down the snowy mountain b
laring rock music.
“Want to see your car first?” he asked.
Gosh, that crash seemed so long ago. “Sure.”
He took a left on a main road. Honestly, she didn’t know how he could even see the road.
“I have every street around here memorized,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “I could drive this whole county with my eyes closed.”
“How long have you lived here?” she asked.
“All my life. There’s no other choice for people like me. We set down roots and then we can never leave.”
“Like an oak tree.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Like an oak tree.”
The snow was almost up to the grill guard of his jacked-up tow truck, and there were no other tire marks.
The fact that there were no other tire marks hit her as they came up on the tree that had fallen on her. No one else would’ve found her. She and Aux got out and stepped over the tree, then stared at a mound in the snow. All she could see of her SUV were a few jagged edges of shredded metal sticking out.
“I could still be in there,” she murmured, chills lifting the fine hairs on her arms. “I could still be trapped.” She would’ve frozen to an awful death. “Thank you, Aux.”
He was looking up at the crows still circling them.
She supposed she should thank them too, for showing Aux where she was. “Thank you!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the quiet mountains.
Caw, caw, caw, one of the birds answered.
“They talked back to me!” she exclaimed.
“Yeah.” Aux was frowning up at them. “Let’s go.”
He helped her back over the tree and they drove the other way to an ancient, humongous downed tree laying across the whole road. It stretched into the forest on both sides. Aux taught her how to cut the big limbs first so he could roll the log away once it was cut into sections. She was pretty bad at first and even broke the chain once, but Aux was apparently a chainsaw mechanic and had it fixed in two minutes flat.
They spent a good two hours cutting on the tree. When it was all cut into sections, she learned something new about Aux—he was very, extremely, intimidatingly strong.
