Tempted by the Bear - Book 1

by V. Vaughn

  Tristan is unusually quiet this morning, and I ask, “What’s wrong, love?”

  He gives me a squeeze before relaxing his arms and grabs the cup on the table. “Nothing.” The odor of alcohol wafts toward me as he dumps the contents of the glass into the sink, and it splashes on the stainless steel. When he turns to me, a smile covers his face. “I’m off to the distillery. What’s your plan for today?”

  My mate has done a one-eighty with his mood, and I wonder about his morning ritual of pouring himself a drink he never takes. It started with the first batch of vodka, and at first, I thought he was monitoring the process. But now that his recipe has been perfected, I question the reason. I say, “The landscapers are coming, and I’ve got the painters starting on the upstairs bedrooms.” I glance at the clock on the stove. “They’ll be here any minute.”

  Tristan places a quick kiss on my lips. “Well, then we’d better start our workday.”

  I grab his shirt. The starched cotton is stiff between my fingers. “Wait.” I’m not sure what’s churning in my mate’s head, but I need to break through his icy exterior. I tug him close and kiss him with passion. He seems startled but warms up quickly.

  When I pull away, he growls, “Thanks. I needed that.”

  I reach up and place my palm on his freshly shaven face. “Think you can push the papers off your desk for—” I pause and waggle my eyebrows at him. “Lunch?”

  He nips at my neck with his bear teeth. “You know I will.”

  “Good.”

  I watch him leave, and I am happy I could make him smile. But my worries set in. Once Arctic Ice Vodka makes its rounds with the critics, it will need to be put into production. That means hiring workers, and the plan is they’ll be from the De Rozier clan, who have yet to arrive. While I would love to provide homes for the families, we can’t afford to buy eight houses for them. We opted to build a dorm-like structure for the clan members to use for free until they’ve accumulated enough savings to venture out on their own. Tristan assures me that it will be luxurious compared to their current accommodations.

  Plates clash as I open the dishwasher to put Tristan’s glass in. He hides his past well. My mate’s appearance is one of wealth, even though his family riches are long gone. But it’s not only the accommodations I’m worried about. I wonder how the clan is going to assimilate into a world that isn’t familiar. If Tristan is prejudiced against humans, I suspect his clan is, too.

  A dull ache forms behind my eyes as I ponder what I signed up for being next in line as the De Rozier prima. I’ve got hellion children, an evil mother-in-law, and numerous bigoted polar bears coming soon.

  I force myself to think of happier thoughts, like our wedding. I wanted to do it here, but Carly insisted we have it at her house so she could take care of the details for me. A quick glance out the window at the dirt pile that is my lawn makes me glad I agreed. I make my way down the hall to the front door to greet the painters clamoring on the porch and shake my head that I was so distracted I didn’t hear them pull in.

  Once I’ve let them in to do their work, I pull out my sketches for the gardens. The paper rustles as I spread them out on my kitchen table. I want to mimic the gardens at Brady’s house, which I designed and cared for. Only instead of a fountain as the focal point, I think a pool for Tristan’s children would be nice. I’m sure they’re full of energy, and swimming year-round should help exhaust some of it.

  The roar of a motorcycle catches my attention, and I smile to myself. Gabriel’s on his way, and even though the temperature is still frigid outside, he’s on his bike because the roads are clear. I grab the teakettle, and the gas stove flickers when I turn it on. I pull out the Earl Grey tea he favors and a container of honey.

  Movement outside catches my attention, and I discover Gabriel is taking stock of what’s been done to the yard. I go outside through the back door and call to him, “I know you’re going to make this mud pit look amazing, right?”

  “Of course I am.” His blue eyes sparkle as he loosens the ponytail he must have worn for his ride. His hair is shoulder length and dark blond, like that of many of the Le Roux.

  “Come on in, and let’s take a look at my plans. I’m hoping you’ll give it your magic to make it sing.”

  Gabriel removes his shoes at the door, and his sock feet thump softly as he walks to the table. He pores over my drawings as I prepare his tea. Water splashes into the large mug, and Tristan’s voice sounds in my head. “I hope I’m not interrupting you, darling.”

  “Never. What is it?”

  “I just got word my mother is on her way, and I want you to be prepared.”

  “Should I practice my self-defense moves?”

  My mate chuckles before he answers, “Perhaps. But you only have two days.”

  “Two days? Your mother will be here in two days?”

  “Yes.” Tristan sighs. “Our honeymoon may be over before we start it. Please remember why you love me, because she has a way of poisoning all that’s good about me.”

  “Tristan. I don’t believe it.” But my stomach clenches, because I don’t want to share my mate with a woman he hates.

  I glance over at Gabriel, and he asks, “Everything okay?”

  I nod. “It will be. But when we’re done here, let’s take a walk. I need you to help me decide where my future mother-in-law should live.”

  The vision of a chain-link fence topped with swirled barbed wire flashes in my mind. Unfortunately, I don’t think that would be the best way to welcome Tristan’s mother, so I tuck the image away and put on a brave smile as I hand Gabriel his tea and prepare to listen to his plans for my lovely gardens.

  Chapter 30

  Tori

  My phone buzzes with a text. I glance down to see it’s from Jax. I’ve been trying to like him for weeks now. I open it but don’t reply to his attempt at seeing me tonight. Lame, I know, and unfortunately, the more I put him off, the more he wants to see me. I wish I could find a way to make Jax be the guy I want, but I still can’t shake my dreams about Keith—or my impure thoughts the moment I walk into Bear Mountain Lumber.

  The scent of fresh-cut pine overpowers the musky smell of spring when I step out of my car. My internship is one day a week, and I spend the other six waiting for it to come. The parking lot is almost empty, and it makes me wonder if maybe I’m not supposed to be here. My phone is slick in my hand as I double-check my calendar to see if I missed a text from Keith telling me my day is cancelled. When I find nothing, I pick my way through the mud puddles toward the door.

  I’m assigned to a different area of the manufacturing plant each time, and the location is dependent upon who has the time to show me what they do. I go to Keith’s office to check in. His door is always open, and I find him digging through a pile of papers on his desk when I get there.

  “Hey.”

  He glances up and smiles. Heat rushes all the way down to my toes as he says, “Hey. I’ll be right with you.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “It’s shutdown day,” Keith mumbles and then slides a document over as he says, “Got it.” He returns his gaze to me, and his eyes twinkle. “We’re going to do routine maintenance on the machines. It’s pretty fun, because sometimes we have to fix things.”

  I smile at his boyish excitement. “Oh, yeah?”

  “C’mon. Pierre is waiting for us.”

  My work attire is jeans, multiple layers on top, and steel-toed boots. Our feet clunk down the hall, and we stop to get our hard hats and ear protection before entering the manufacturing section of the building.

  An older man in a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up over a tight T-shirt comes our way. Even though he’s got gray hair, the guy is cut, and muscles ripple in his arms as he lifts a toolbox. I’ve met him once, and he’s a man of few words, so I nod back when he acknowledges me with a tip of his head.

  Keith raises his eyebrows at me when Pierre just keeps walking, expecting us to follow. I cover my mouth
to suppress a giggle. The old guy must have eyes in the back of his head, because he grabs a container of oil and tosses it over his shoulder without turning around or stopping. The oil slaps into Keith’s hand as he reaches out to catch it. Pierre says, “Driveshaft.”

  Keith mouths to me, “Driveshaft.”

  I mouth back, “Stop,” as a grin covers my face.

  My relationship with Keith is easy. He openly teases me as he shows me things and treats me like I’m a little sister. It helps me contain my physical urges even though my crush on him continues to grow. Throughout the day, we proceed to grease and clean the heavy machinery, and I even get to replace a big part on one of the saws. To say I’m in heaven is an understatement.

  When it’s midafternoon, we break for milk and cookies. Cold, creamy liquid slides down my throat as Keith says, “Told you today would be fun. I saw you do a little happy dance when we got that saw running again.”

  “It was. My mother and sisters would have rolled their eyes at me.”

  I watch Keith’s throat work as he swallows a bite of his cookie before he says, “Yeah, but your dad would have been proud.”

  I shrug. “I wouldn’t know. He was never a part of my life.”

  “Oh. Sorry for the faux pas.”

  “Don’t be. It never really bothered me.” I get up to refill my glass, because I’m lying. Growing up without a father was a big deal to me for a few years. I wasn’t into the girly things the way my sisters were, and I wished I could have spent my weekend days hanging out in a garage, tinkering.

  My glass chills my fingers as I return to the table, and I say, “My mother managed to parent just fine, and the one time I complained about no man in the house, she pointed out to me there were no guarantees my father would have even been the mechanical type.” I let out a small chuckle. “And then she taught me how to do the physical-labor chores she hated. I filled my need to fix things by changing out the storm doors for screens and cleaning out the gutters.” I break off a piece of my cookie. “It was a win-win.”

  “Did you ever get to work on a car?”

  “No.” I tilt my head at him. “Don’t tell me you have some old sports car you restore.”

  “I prefer landscaping.” He frowns slightly before he adds, “I spend my weekends turning my yard into a mystical forest.”

  A piece of my dream comes back to me. Keith and I are in a wooded area that makes me think of a children’s story version of wilderness. “Mystical? Like a fairy—” Heat rises to my cheeks, because what we do there is X-rated.

  When Keith lifts his gaze to me, his eyes are dark, and he swallows as if his cookie is stuck in his throat. He reaches for his milk. The glass topples, and he picks it up quickly. Dabbing at the small puddle with his napkin, he mumbles, “We should get back to Pierre.”

  I wonder what I said to upset him as I clear my things. On our way out of the cafeteria, he walks quickly, and I catch up to him to grab his arm. “Keith. I’m sorry.”

  He stops and turns to me. His jaw is working, and he rakes his hand through his hair as he sighs. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “For making sure I spend time with you whenever you’re here.”

  “But you don’t.” My stomach sinks, because I’m afraid he’ll stop being around when I come in. His mouth is a tight line, and I don’t think I’m getting anywhere, so I yank out my phone. “I know we can never be together. Let me show you something. Look. I have a boyfriend.” The glass is smooth under my finger as I tap in my password. I pull up my texts and show him the one from Jax. “See?”

  Keith glances at the screen and then back at me. Now his eyes are hard in a different way. I’m not sure my lie made anything better, because the heat radiating from him almost sears me. “Is it serious?”

  “Ah. Yes?” I sigh. I’m a terrible liar, and my lips give me away when they part as if to ask for his kiss. “No. But the point is I’m not waiting for you. I know we’ll never be a thing.”

  “He treats you right?”

  Now I’m confused. He’s being protective? I step back to put space between us. “Sure. I mean—yes.”

  “Okay. Let’s go look at the kiln controller.” I follow Keith as we walk toward the back door. As soon as we’re outside and on our way to the building where the wood cures, he’s back to his usual self and stomps through a puddle to get me wet. I return the favor, and we end up laughing as our pant legs get soaked during a childish game. But the one we’re playing isn’t for kids.

  Chapter 31

  Isabelle

  I’ve had a lot of crap jobs in my lifetime, so doing data entry at Kick It is a breeze because it means I’m clean, dry, and able to drink as much coffee as I’d like. But mostly, I’m happy to have something to do besides work out. I shut down the membership spreadsheet, and the computer snaps shut when I close it. As I stand, I grab my empty mug to wash it out. I have a session with Ashton in fifteen minutes.

  I decide to catch up with Luke. “Hey, Babe, sushi tonight?”

  Cohabiting when you’re mated takes away the angst of wanting to be together, but it doesn’t rid couples of the power struggle that can happen when first sharing living space. Luke and I came to the decision that we would alternate cooking dinner. I don’t usually do takeout, but I do pick easy meals to make. Slicing up fish and making a salad falls into that category.

  “Sure. I’ll be home by seven.”

  Luke likes to get his studying done before he comes home. His discipline is admirable, and he’s managed to get enough credits in his three years that he’ll graduate this spring with a degree in business. I’m trying to convince Tristan to hire him for Arctic Vodka while Luke studies for the test he needs to apply to law school, but my brother is still bitter that we mated.

  When I walk over to the drink station, I notice Lucy working the front desk at Ink It. I call out, “Hi, Lucy.”

  She glances over at me and offers me her fake smile. I pour on the sugar. “You really must come for dinner some night. I know Luke misses you.”

  Now she snarls in reply, and it makes me grin. I enjoy nothing more than getting under the skin of werebears who don’t like me. I turn away and notice Ashton has arrived, and I walk over to the mats where we’ll start.

  That first day Ash and I worked together, I sort of lost it on a punching bag. I haven’t pulverized one since, because he pulls me back before I get there. It shouldn’t work, because only Tristan, who’s an alpha, can stop me. But when Ash tells me to stop, I can.

  He gives me his usual silent nod, and we begin with a jump rope routine. My muscles are tight but begin to loosen, and our ropes become a blur as I try to keep up with his speed and footwork. My heart pumps and pushes oxygen through my limbs as I fall into the zone. When I begin to reach exhaustion, Tristan interrupts my trance.

  “Izzy, Mom is coming. Tomorrow.”

  I freeze in place as my body goes cold. I reply. “Please don’t make me see her.”

  The slap of Ash’s jump rope stops, too, as Tristan says, “You have to. But I won’t leave you alone with her. I promise.”

  My stomach clenches, and I place my hand on my belly as if I can make it stop. Sweat drips down my nose and splatters on the floor. “Right. And you promised to not bite Annie. We know how that worked out.”

  Tristan’s voice is faint. “She can’t hurt you anymore, Izzy.”

  “I know.” I bend over and blink back the tears that burn in my eyes. My mother may be too old and frail to hurt me physically now, but if her voice still works, she’ll find a way to do it with words.

  Ashton asks, “Are you okay?”

  I glance up at him. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I hop up to bounce on my feet. “My brother was just telling me my mother will be here soon.”

  Ashton steps back and crosses his arms. “Punching bag.”

  He’s cut the jumping drill short, but I don’t mind. The familiar burn of anger rolls in my v
eins as I begin the level-one progression I use to warm up my arms. My punches are hard today, and the scent of the adrenaline racing through me is so strong that I can smell it. I think Ash can, too, because he moves me on to level two quickly. My feet smack at the bag, and the chain it hangs from squeaks as my force moves it.

  “Three!” Ash’s voice rings in my ears, and I begin more-complex moves. The pain I crave comes as the impact of my punches spikes into my bones. Yes. When I deliver a roundhouse kick, the slap of my foot is followed by a ripping sound, because I break through the leather of the punching bag. It’s as if I’ve opened up the well of evil I keep locked inside me, and my movements become faster while my hits become so forceful that the agony reaches my spine.

  I’m lost to my rage, and I let it pour out of me as I destroy the object before me. When there’s nothing left to hit, I stop and step back to hunch over and catch my breath. I’m suddenly aware that Ash is in front of me, and I glance up at him. He tilts his head toward a separate room used for yoga classes.

  When we get there, he sits down and motions for me to do the same. “Tell me about her.”

  Tears run down my face as if a dam has broken, and I begin to speak. I tell him about the abuse I suffered as a child from both my parents. I talk about how everyone in the clan knew and nobody stepped in to help the alpha’s children. I talk about why I learned to fight and tell him about the first time I struck back and how I spent a week in a cage as punishment. And when I’m done, Ash holds me as I cry out the tears of a lifetime.

  Once I recover, Ashton finally speaks. “Why don’t you let your bear out when you’re here?”

  Intense anger makes it hard to control shifting. I gaze into his blue eyes and notice the high cheekbones in his face. His jaw is strong, and his neck is as thick as a tree trunk. I don’t think I could kill him, but I’m not sure. I say, “Because she’s afraid.”

  He nods at me, and I wonder about what he must have seen in the human wars as a SEAL. I whisper, “You know, don’t you?”