Secrets of the Bear (Trapped in Bear Canyon Book 4) Read online

  How long would it take for him to find them in this little mountain town? Would they all be in danger?

  She pulled back, wiping tears and smiling in embarrassment up at Francis, who looked scared and uncomfortable at the sight of a woman crying.

  He cocked his head, and she was struck by how handsome he was. She had no business thinking about it, but she couldn’t help it. He, like the other shifter she’d met, had an animal magnetism that was hard to resist.

  But then there were also the elements that were essentially him. That slightly crooked nose that just made him more handsome. Those deep, soulful blue eyes she could look into forever, like clear, blue lake water. Long lashes. A hard, strong jaw that looked as if it could take a punch. Full lips that curved when he smiled. There would be a dimple on the right side of them, too.

  Right now he was dead serious, though, his tall brow wrinkled in consternation.

  He was trying to process all of this. Surely a man who was as good to his bones as Francis would have a hard time understanding someone like Charles.

  She grasped him by the arms, wondering at how meaty he was, how huge compared to her. It turned her on, even if she wasn’t supposed to be thinking that way.

  How had she missed how attractive he was?

  No, she hadn’t missed it. She’d always thought he was gorgeous, but she hadn’t thought she’d have a chance with him. Not like Charles, who’d gone straight after her like a hurricane. It had felt so good to be wanted. To be chased. Francis had always been painfully polite.

  As he was now, saying he didn’t need to mate her to protect her.

  But what if she wanted to mate him? What if that was the only way, or, heaven help her, she actually just wanted it that way?

  He reached out to brush her hair back, and she flinched in a reflex she immediately regretted. She looked up at him with fearful eyes, not that he would hurt her, but that he would look at her with pity for being afraid.

  He did. His blue eyes widened slightly and then narrowed with something like rage.

  His arms fell to his sides, and she heard his knuckles crack and pop. Oh no, was he getting close to shifting again?

  She moved forward to hug him, but he stepped back, putting a hand out.

  “I think maybe we should head to bed,” he said. “We can work out the rest in the morning.”

  She rubbed her arms and nodded. “I suppose so.” She realized she’d dropped her coat and scarf when he’d been holding her, and he bent down deftly to scoop them up and hand them to her.

  “I’ll show you to your room.”

  She nodded, following him up the stairs on legs that felt shaky but capable. She’d been driving all day and night, but he didn’t need to know that. Luckily, she’d found out where he was some time back, when she’d been wondering if she should try to find him.

  But she assumed he had his reasons for leaving. Maybe he didn’t want to see her, but she had nowhere else to go.

  He’d held her, though, and that seemed to be a good sign that he didn’t want her to go.

  When he got to the top of the stairs, he rubbed a hand over his face. His dark hair stood up in all directions, short and thick. She wanted to reach up and smooth it.

  Any excuse to touch him she realized with a blush.

  That part of her had been dead inside for so long; it was weird to feel it coming back with fierce energy. With a man she hadn’t seen in over a year.

  She held herself back. “I’m going to need something to sleep in.”

  A blush spread over his wide, tanned cheeks as he stared down at her. “Oh. Yeah.” He opened the door to the room at the end of the walkway and walked inside. He headed to a closet and slid it open to reveal a bunch of clothes, neatly hung, organized by color.

  She fought back a smile. That was so Francis.

  He rifled through the shirts and then pulled one off a hanger, along with some pants, and handed them to her.

  She lifted them to her nose and inhaled a fresh, clean, masculine scent. His detergent?

  He raised a dark eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

  She flushed. “Habit,” she said. “I love clean clothes smell.” She couldn’t very well tell him she’d instinctively wanted to see if she could scent him.

  She took the clothing into the adjoining bathroom and locked the door behind her. When she’d finished putting on the pants and the soft, long-sleeved shirt, she looked in the mirror and grimaced.

  The shirt would work, as sort of a knee-length nightgown, but the pants were hopeless, bunching up and far too long and wide. She took them off and walked out in just the shirt, hoping she didn’t look as embarrassed as she felt.

  She held the pants out to him. “Sorry, too big.”

  He kept his eyes averted from her as he took the pants and put them back in the closet. “Sorry about that. I’m sort of big.”

  She grinned. “Nothing wrong with that. All the better to mate you.”

  He looked at her warily over his shoulder. “Look, Val, about that…”

  “I know,” she said. “You don’t need to do it to protect me. But what if I want you to? What if I feel safer that way?”

  He shook his head as he knelt and rummaged for something at the bottom of the shelves in the closet. “That’s not a good enough reason to mate somebody.” He pulled out what looked like sheets and waved them as he stood and headed for the door. “Come on. Let’s go set up your bed for the night.”

  She nodded and followed him, feeling a slight shiver as they left his room. It was warm and welcoming there. She didn’t want to be away from him now, from that feeling of kindness and safety that came from with presence.

  He opened the door down the hall from his, and she looked in to see it wasn’t as dusty or cold as she might have imagined, given that he seemed to live here alone.

  She followed him inside, taking in the queen-size bed, the small bedside table, the adjoining bathroom. “It’s nice,” she said blankly, trying not to panic as he started to put the sheets on the bed for her.

  She wasn’t ready to leave him again. She’d only just found him. Maybe she’d never realized just how strong her feelings were for him until this moment. Sure, she’d always had a crush, but now, in his house, just the two of them alone, it was more than clear she had long-buried feelings.

  She rubbed her arms, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Francis seemed to sense her anxiety and finally looked up at her. His inquisitive blue eyes seemed to understand instantly.

  “You want to sleep with me tonight,” he said.

  She nodded, still biting her lip.

  He flushed. “I meant sleep in the same room. Or bed. Or whatever. But nothing would happen. I know you’re with Charles.” His expression darkened. “No, you aren’t with Charles. I need to beat Charles’s ass, right?” He shook his head, putting a hand up as if he had a headache. “Damn, it’s confusing. But we can work it out tomorrow. You can tell me everything when you’re ready.” He headed out of the room and turned off the light. “If you feel safer in my room, then I want you to stay there.”

  “I know you won’t try anything,” she said nervously.

  “I won’t even sleep on the bed unless you want me to,” he said, opening the door and following her into his room.

  “Where would you sleep?”

  “The chair or the floor,” he said. “Wherever you want.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re being too nice.”

  He gave her a crooked smile, showing his dimple as he lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “What else can I do? You kissed me.”

  She sighed. “What?”

  He started laying the blankets he’d pulled from the closet on the ground. “I get a kiss from a pretty girl, I guess I’m pretty motivated to take care of her.”

  “Who are you kidding?” she asked. “You’d take care of me if I threw a pie in your face. It’s just who you are, Francis.” Part of what she loved about him.
r />   If she were really honest, could she admit maybe mating him was more about fulfilling what should have really happened than it was about protecting her from Charles?

  She felt blood rush into her face and jumped under his covers, tucking herself in. As he arranged things on the ground, she felt a bit guilty.

  “I’d feel safer with you in the bed,” she said.

  He looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I don’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable just because you feel guilty. I’m a bear. I can sleep on the floor easily.”

  She laughed. “Then you can sleep even better on the bed.” She tapped the spot next to her.”

  “Okay then,” he said, bringing his blanket over. “But I’ll sleep on top of the covers, just so you know I’m not up to anything.”

  She grinned and turned onto her side as he turned off the light and got settled on the bed in the darkness.

  It was so weird, hearing his breathing, being next to a man in a bed without feeling terror.

  It wasn’t long until he started snoring, quiet but distinct, and she stifled a grin.

  For the first time in over a year, the world felt full of possibilities.

  As she fell asleep, she could almost forget about the bruises.

  4

  Valerie woke up to absolutely amazing smells, and her stomach rumbled, reminding her it had been hours since she’d eaten, even before she’d gone to sleep.

  She looked around her, noting the morning light streaming through the window between the trees that surrounded the cabin. So different from Seattle. Sure, Seattle had beautiful, green, mountainous areas and was lush.

  Here it was drier, higher elevation, and extremely wild and isolated.

  She loved it.

  Now that there didn’t seem to be a problem with her staying with Francis, she was pretty sure she’d found her home for the next few days.

  While she decided what to do about Charles.

  She paced as she changed into her clothes and then peeked out the door and heard pans clanging around in the kitchen.

  Was he cooking?

  For her?

  She went into the bathroom and made a lame attempt to smooth out her wild, curly waves and wipe the sleep from her eyes. She pinched her cheeks, grateful for her natural tan, and then headed downstairs to face the man that was her only hope.

  He was standing in the kitchen, wearing a light-gray fleece pullover that outlined his impressively tall, muscular physique and tight, hardy jeans that emphasized a taut, rounded, masculine ass she couldn’t look away from.

  He turned to her with a twinkle in his eyes, as if he’d felt her staring. He was a shifter. Could he sense her or something like that?

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  She looked at all the pans around the kitchen as she sat at the counter on a stool. “I hope so. Looks like you decided to cook everything in the house.”

  “Wasn’t sure what you’d want,” he said, getting a plate out and piling it with bacon, pancakes, eggs, and hash browns. He set it in front of her, a small mountain of food, and handed her syrup, butter, and a fork and knife. “What do you want to drink?”

  “Do you have orange juice?”

  “Yup,” he said, pulling it out and pouring a glass for her. As she began to eat, she looked up to see him leaning on one hand and watching her with a smile on his handsome face.

  She flushed and set down her fork. What was that look for?

  He blinked and straightened up. “Sorry. I zoned out. Got up early today.” She saw the back of his neck redden as he turned back to the pans on the stove, pulling out another plate and serving himself.

  When he sat down next to her, she was chagrined to see his plate had less than hers, despite there being more on the stove. He noticed her stare and shrugged ruefully. “I thought you needed more than me.”

  “How?” she asked, eyes wide. “I’m half your size, if that.”

  His blue eyes roamed over her, and she saw anger there again, but why? “I don’t know.” But it looked like he did know as he turned back to his plate and began eating. “Anyway, I just thought we should start the day off with good food. And then you can tell me the rest when you’re ready.”

  “Don’t eat too much, then,” she joked. “After I tell you about Charles, you might want to barf.”

  He shoveled food into his mouth even faster. “More like once I hear about Charles, I’ll want as much protein as possible for when I go beat his ass.”

  “Don’t,” she said. “I just want to be free of him right now. I left him. Forever. He doesn’t even know where I am. If you go after him now, I don’t get any break. It all starts over.”

  “What starts over?”

  “The drama. Having to think about him.”

  Francis set down his glass and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. With his square jaw and handsome face, he looked like a prince from a fairytale. On steroids, with an attractively broken nose. “It’s not just going to go away, Valerie.”

  “I know,” she said. “I know I’m going to have to deal with it. But this is the first time I’ve gotten to just sit and eat without worrying for my life. First time I’ve felt safe and just gotten to talk to someone, and I want to enjoy it without any talk of anyone beating anyone else.” She felt his eyes on her bruises and sighed. “And I need to cover those up, ASAP.”

  “That reminds me,” he said. “We should probably go shopping today. Get you some clothes, makeup, whatever you need.”

  She laughed. “That’d be great. You have any stores in this tiny town?”

  He nodded. “Geez, I’m not living like a savage. I have friends, too. There’s a bar, even.”

  She nodded. “Sounds good. I could use a drink.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t remember the last time it was safe to be drunk.”

  He froze, and she heard a shattering of glass and a small gasp. She looked over to see he’d cracked his glass in his hand.

  He gave her a rueful grimace and got up to clean off. She winced at the small, bleeding cut on his hand, but he waved her away as she tried to get up to help.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “But you’re bleeding,” she said.

  “I’m a shifter,” he replied, washing his hands and wiping them on a towel, then grabbing paper towels to clean up his mess. “It’ll heal quick.”

  “I’m sorry if what I said made you angry,” she said.

  “It’s just hard,” he said, keeping his eyes on the mess as he wiped up the counter. “When I left, I thought you were happy. I thought you were going to have the best life possible.” His eyes met hers, impossibly blue. So honest. “It’s the only way I could go.”

  She put a hand over his. “I thought it was easy for you to leave.”

  He blushed, an adorable look on a huge, manly man, and pulled his hand out from under hers as he finished cleaning up the mess and took the used paper towels to throw them away under the sink. “Never. Nothing regarding you is ever meant to be easy I guess.”

  “And what does that mean?” she asked, getting off her stool and coming around the counter to corner him.

  He looked down at her, unconcerned at his height, which was over a foot taller than her. “I think you know what it means. I tried to give up on you, and you show up on my doorstep, needing help. But even now, I don’t know what’s going on with you or why you came to me of all people.”

  She stepped forward, running a finger down his chest. His large body let out a shudder, and she fought back a smile.

  She did affect him, curvy or not.

  “I made a mistake by choosing Charles,” she said.

  He shrugged, his expression pained. “You chose who you wanted.”

  “Did I have another option?” she asked bluntly.

  He blinked. She could see warring options of what to say in his eyes. He was calculating his response.

  She stepped back, feeling as if she’d trapped him. He might be bigger, stronger, ta
ller, but when it came to her, he obviously had a weakness.

  And part of her felt bad for never seeing that before. Had she come back only to hurt him? That was the last thing she wanted.

  “Did you want me?” she asked quietly. “You never said so.”

  He blinked. “Is there any point in telling you now?”

  His words hit her like a rock to the heart. So she was used goods? So he couldn’t accept her now that she’d been with his friend, even though his friend had been an abuser?

  She fled from him toward the stairs, not wanting to face him as tears bit the corners of her eyes. Would she always have to pay for her mistake of getting fooled by Charles?

  She felt him catch her by the wrist, knocking her off balance with even a little of his strength. She fell backwards off the steps, and he caught her in his arms as easily as if she weighed no more than a feather.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just figuring this out, too. Up until yesterday, I’ve done my best to forget about you. To think of you as Charles’s mate. Wife. Mate. And now you’re here, and it’s not easy for me to just turn it around.”

  She nodded but still felt the sting of tears threatening her eyes. “I understand it. I don’t have to like it, but I understand it.”

  “Why don’t you like it?” he asked, setting her on her feet.

  “Because it just means I ruined my life even more than I thought. If you, who I always cared about, can’t ever see me the same, then what’s the point?”

  He scratched his head, mussing his hair further. She gestured for him to lean down, and she played with his hair, pushing it back into a more orderly style, calming herself as she did so.

  “There. I always wanted to do that,” she said.

  “I don’t get it,” he said. “What do you mean what’s the point?”

  She stared down at her toes. “I mean, what’s the point of leaving Charles if he’s always going to be in my life anyway?”

  “How is he going to be in your life?” Francis asked. “I don’t get it.”

  “If you can’t consider me, you’re still loyal to him. If you’re still loyal to him, it’s only a matter of time before you let him come get me. And then I’m doomed. Because he never really loved me.” She felt terror welling up inside her at the thought of being back with him.