by Jenika Snow
A strong arm wrapped around her waist, and a firm chest pressed against her back. The fresh and clean scent of Tate washed through her. His deep voice seeped into her. “Look at what you’ve done, baby.” She looked around. “Look at all the smiles and laughter. None of that would be present without you being here.” She knew it wasn’t all her; hell, without all of them working together, none of this would be possible. She smiled and leaned into Tate. If someone had told her a year ago this was how her life could be, she would have told them to shut the fuck up.
“I love you like there is no tomorrow, Stella.”
A smile formed on her lips, and she turned in his arms and lifted up to kiss him. “And I love you.” It was crazy the way things worked out, but there was nothing wrong with a little craziness in a person’s life.
Epilogue
One year later
Tate could’ve watched Stella all day long.
The way she looked when she didn’t think anybody was watching her was an aphrodisiac. The little lift of her lips as she smiled, and the dirt on her hands and smeared across her face as she planted flowers in the backyard garden had him grinning.
He was happy and so damn lucky.
He’d come out to the patio five minutes ago, and all he’d done was watch Stella plant the Gerber daisies. She had music playing from her phone, but it was too low for him to hear. But he watched Stella sing along, her hair piled high in a messy bun and the sun beating down on her already golden skin.
His cock was hard, his need for her insatiable. It didn’t matter how many times he took her, how much time had passed, he always wanted her like it was the first time. Did she realize how much control she had over him? Did Stella understand the lengths he would go to, to keep her near?
He wasn’t a good man, not really, no matter how much good he tried to do. He did illegal shit, had no issues revealing that fact. But she loved him regardless, had become his wife, and was soon to be the mother of his first child.
She stood and wiped the dirt from her knees, a wisp of her hair falling along her temple, the wind gently blowing it. She smiled as she surveyed her flowers, the purples and pinks a splash of color among the green. Before she’d come along, he hadn’t cared about any of this. And truth was he still wouldn’t, not if she hadn’t.
But the fact she’d fallen in love with gardening, that she spent most of her free time out here planting, watching these flowers grow and bloom, brought so much happiness into his life that he felt his cold, hardened heart softening.
But only for her.
She turned and looked at him, lifting her hand and blocking out the sun. He saw the way her smile grew, her focus solely on him.
“You know we have gardeners for that,” he teased, knowing she loved it out here too much to allow anyone else to do this.
She smiled wider and glanced at the flowers again.
Tate let his gaze linger on her belly, the slight mound underneath her now dirty white T-shirt evident. His heart jackknifed in his chest. His child grew in there. She might only be four months along, but already he couldn’t wait to hold their child in his arms, to tell him all the secrets of the world, to teach him how to be a better man than Tate had ever been.
He’d be a good father, protect their child, make sure he flourished, knew how to handle himself, but also respect others.
Tate stood and met Stella halfway, immediately pulling her into an embrace and holding her tightly. She smelled of dirt, but underneath all of that was her sweet scent, the one that reminded him of honeysuckle and sun-kissed flowers.
“My life,” he whispered. Tate pulled back and immediately dropped to his knees, pushed up her shirt, and placed his forehead against her belly. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, taking in the sweet scent of her, relishing the fact there was no other place he’d rather be. Hell, he didn’t give a fuck if anyone saw him right now, this dark and dangerous kingpin who was on his knees worshipping the woman he loved.
She ran her fingers through his hair, her touch making him feel alive.
Stella made him feel alive, like there was nothing else on this planet that could bring him down. Before her he’d been a shell of a man, living for the sake of going through the motions. And if she wasn’t by his side … Fuck, he didn’t even want to think of that. It made rage fill him, sorrow claim him at the very thought of not having her.
He stood and cupped her cheeks, staring into her eyes. “Only mine, and what a lucky bastard I am,” he whispered before leaning down and capturing her mouth with his.
For all his faults, Stella was the one good thing in his world. And when their baby came, it would be the three of them. He’d live, breathe, and die for them because there wasn’t anything on this planet more important to him than they were.
* * *
Five years later
Stella knew the type of man Tate was. She’d known what she was getting into when she felt herself falling in love with him, when she heard his story, realized that even if he loved her unconditionally, he’d always been this ruthless, hardened man who would do anything to make his empire stand. She’d never be able to change that, to change him.
And she didn’t want to.
She loved him for who he was, scars and darkness and all.
Even now, all these years later, their marriage was stronger than ever. They had a little girl laughing and running around the yard as her daddy chased her, the little boy she carried kicking wildly in her belly. Stella could see a change in Tate. It wasn’t on the surface, because she knew he’d never show that to anyone but her … and their children. But it was clear as the sun shining down on them right now.
She hadn’t missed his scuffed-up knuckles a few times he’d come home late at night, knowing he’d used force to put someone in their place, that violence was his calling and he used it as his weapon of choice.
Stella didn’t ignore any of that, hated that he had to use brute strength to get what he wanted, but she wasn’t a fool in pretending that a part of him didn’t revel in doing it, in making blood splatter on the ground like a grisly, abstract painting.
And despite all of that, knowing he was considered a “bad guy,” Stella loved him more than ever.
Placing her hand on her belly, she felt their little boy kick. A smile curved her mouth as happiness and love filled every part of her body.
Tate lifted their little girl, Bonnie, named after Stella’s mother, and the love on his face was clear. He grinned and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, baby girl?” He slowly made his way over to where Stella sat.
“Do all boys have these?” she asked and pointed to his tattoos.
“Not all, sweetheart.”
“I want my boyfriend to have one,” she said and grinned.
Tate made a gruff sound in the back of his throat and Stella grinned. “No dating until you’re middle-aged and I’m too old to have a little one-on-one time with the guys who come knocking at the door.”
Bonnie’s brows dipped as confusion covered her face. “What’s middle-aged?”
Stella chuckled just as Tate sat down on the patio beside her, Bonnie in his lap.
Stella could just imagine how Tate would be when Bonnie started dating. Lord help the boys who wanted to take his little girl out on dates.
“I’ll have my shotguns cleaned when that time rolls around,” Tate said and looked over at her, a grumpy expression on his face. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking about.”
He cracked a smile, and she laughed. As she listened to Tate tell Bonnie a story, she couldn’t help but let every little emotion consume her, couldn’t stop herself from grinning like a crazy person at the fact that she was deliriously happy, that even though life had been pretty shitty to her in the past, she was living perfection.
She was living her dream.
The End
THE BEAR’S CATURE
By Jenika Snow
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Copyright © August 2018 by Jenika Snow
First E-book Publication: August 2018
Cover photo provided by: Adobe Stock
Editor: Kasi Alexander
Proofreader: Liz Murach
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
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Bear
The solitude had always been my companion and I accepted it, embraced it. Living on my own with the forest as my backyard had always been good enough for me.
Until it no longer was.
The quiet could be loud, the loneliness a burden. I was tired of being on my own. I wanted a wife, needed a woman to call my own.
Who I wanted was Susie.
She was sweet and kind, innocent and soft in all the right places. She made this caveman part of me rise up and take control. The things I wanted to do to her would probably frighten her, scare her away for good.
I didn’t pretend to be a gentle man. I was brutal and savage in my way of living, but when I looked at her I felt something soften within me.
It was time to man up and tell her what I wanted, that she was all I thought about, all I needed in my life.
Susie
I’d loved Bear for as long as I could remember, but I was just the grocery delivery girl, a person he barely talked to, rarely saw when I did my drop-offs. I’d always been too much of a coward to tell him how I felt, so I divulged all my longings and secrets to my best friend.
But I was tired of doing that. I wanted to be honest with him even if that ended up putting this wall between us, even if I got a broken heart.
I was willing to risk all of that to pour my heart out, to finally be honest.
I was willing to do all of that in the hopes he would say he loved me too.
Warning: This may not be a paranormal story, but it has bite to it! With a growly, celibate hero who’s been lusting after one virginal heroine, it’s time he staked his claim in all the ways that matter. Don’t worry, it’s still safe with a HEA and all the sexy goodness that goes along with it!
1
Susie
I’d been taking groceries up to Bear Hollis’ cabin in the woods for the last two years. He was quiet, with a stony composure and cold demeanor. Despite his brisk attitude and the fact he ignored me the majority of the time, I wanted him. He was the strong, silent type, living alone, embracing solitude as if it were his best friend. I didn’t feel sorry for him, not when I could see how much he enjoyed being by himself.
I pulled my beat-up Cherokee to a stop in front of his cabin and cut the engine. I didn’t see him at first, but there were many times when I dropped off his groceries and never saw him at all. He was a lone wolf, not even wanting to come into town to do his monthly grocery shopping, and instead paid the fee to have the store send me up to deliver. I didn’t mind though, not when there were those chances of getting to see him.
Maybe that’s why I was the only one who volunteered to drop off his shit. Maybe everyone else was too afraid of the man he’d become.
I wasn’t ashamed to admit that over the years, my fascination and arousal for him had grown into something much more.
Love.
I loved a man who didn’t even look at me half the time, who probably didn’t even know my name after all these years. I was in love with a man who couldn’t stand to be around people, whose only friend was another recluse loner named Wolf, who’d just found himself a wife after years of solitude. I was insane for wanting Bear, should have just put him to the back of my mind and moved on with my life.
But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
I got out of the car and shut the door, standing there for a moment to see if he would emerge. When he was at home he usually came out and grabbed the groceries out of the back of my car, not saying anything but giving me a gruff grunt as if that was his way of saying thank you.
But all was still and quiet, which led me to believe he wasn’t home. I opened the back door and started grabbing the paper bags out of the backseat. There was a month’s supply of food I’d brought with me this time, mainly nonperishables, but he’d also requested fresh fruits and vegetables.
Although I knew he had a garden during the summer months, some fruits and veggies couldn’t be grown in our zone.
Taking the porch steps one at a time, I set one of the bags down and knocked on the front door. I already knew he wasn’t around, but I never just barged into his place. When there was no answer, I opened the front door and picked up the bags again before heading inside. The interior of his cabin smelled like pine, not the chemical, artificial kind, but the real wood aroma. It was the kind that told me he’d built this place on his own, cut the trees down, hammered them in place, made this his own.
Even if I didn’t know that to be true, the craftsmanship and how much effort and pride he put into building this place was evident.
It took me four trips to my car before I had all of his groceries inside. As per every other time before, I took everything out of the paper bags, not putting it away, but setting it on the counters. A part of me liked doing this even if it wasn’t my job. I felt like this could be where I lived, putting the groceries away while the man I loved was out hunting for us.
I was insane, absolutely crazy for what I wanted and how I felt.
Placing my hands on the edge of the sink, I curled my fingers around the ceramic and stared out the small window. All I saw was trees, these woods so thick and high up on the mountain that the air had a crispness to it. It was the middle of summer but up here there was a chill in the air when the wind moved through the trees.
I turned and stared at his place, having been in this home countless times over the last couple of years. To my left there were two leather chairs, worn and tattered from years of use. Between them was a coffee table, one that appeared handmade, no doubt by Bear.
The fireplace was in the center, the stone mantle dark from soot and use. There was a short hallway off to the side, the bathroom on one side and his bedroom on the other. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, the scent of Bear mixing with the pine and the wilderness making me feel drunk.
I couldn’t stay up here forever even if I wanted to. And I really wanted to. I wanted Bear to notice me, to see past my pin-straight brown hair, the Plain Jane appearance, and the Olive Oyl skinny body. He was masculine and big, strong and muscular. I was short and felt frumpy, not pretty at all, certainly not for a man like Bear.
But I wanted him to see me, to notice me.
God, I wanted it so badly.
Pushing away from that counter, I took the paper bags with me and walked out to my car. I heard birds chirping overhead, a woodpecker a few feet away. I tipped my head back, following the thick lines of the redwood trees, the noise from those birds seeming to go on for miles.
And then there wasn’t any noise, just this peaceful stillness that seemed to encompass me.
The quiet was loud … peaceful.
Maybe one day when I came up here I’d have the nerve to tell him how I felt, that I was here, that I wanted him to notice me. Maybe one day I’d have the courage to tell Bear that I loved him, that I wanted to stay with him, isolated from everyone and everything.
Just the two of us.
I kept saying that, but it seemed that “one day” never did come.
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