On impulse, she walked through to the bedroom and sought out her cell phone. Where are you? She texted. Some guy called Harber is here at the trailer. She had only just set it down on the counter when it started buzzing, and she picked it up to answer.
“Where is he?” he asked without any preamble.
“I asked him to wait for you outside. He was giving me the creeps,” she admitted. “He’s not on drugs, is he?” She was surreptitiously peering out the window again. Harber was lighting a cigarette with jerky, impatient movements. Then he dropped the lighter as if he’d burnt himself and jumped nearly two feet in the air. “He seems very on edge.”
“Don’t let him in the trailer,” was Jared’s terse reply.
“What? He’s not dangerous, is he?” asked Pris, her voice rising with concern.
“Just stay away from him, and don’t listen to a damn word he says.”
“Okaaay…”
“I’m five minutes away.”
“Five minutes?” Another, rather more unpleasant thought occurred to Pris. “Do we owe him money?” she asked, but the call had already ended abruptly. She really hoped they didn’t owe him money. He looked totally disreputable to Pris’ eye. She put her phone back on the table top and bit her lip. Harber was staring at the trailer again. To distract herself, she started preparing the vegetables for the simple dinner she had in mind to prepare for them - roasted Mediterranean vegetables with pasta and a red pepper sauce. She had bought a block of parmesan and some fresh fettucine from one of the specialty delis in town and a cheap grater from the hardware store Carole-Ann lived above, not convinced that Jared already owned one. She had peeled and chopped the red onion, zucchini and peppers by the time she heard Jared’s truck pull into their field. Walking over to the sink, she glanced out the window and saw him slam his truck door shut with force, advancing on Harber, looking aggressive and formidable. When he reached him, she saw the other man fall back on his back foot and raise his hands placatingly. Jared looked back over his shoulder and their eyes clashed. Pris quickly dropped the blind and stepped back, her heartbeat racing. Jared was pissed. Maybe they didn’t owe him money after all.
After a moment’s frozen indecision, she decided to carry on with the meal prep, switched on the oven and started caramelizing the onions over the stove. She had just finished tossing the veg in olive oil and added them and the fruit pie to the oven, which just about had room for both, when she heard the Porsche peel away and the trailer door wrench open.
“Hey,” she said, clicking the over door closed and the next things she knew, two hands were under her armpits, dragging her to stand. “Jared!” He span her round and walked forward, forcing her back against the refrigerator. “Wha-?”
“What did he say to you?” His voice was low and growly, his steely gaze intense.
She cast her mind back. “Um, hardly anything. But he just appeared in the doorway…” Jared’s eyes flared, and she placed a palm on his chest in alarm. “He just surprised me that’s all.”
“His words, Pris?” he ground out, a faint green glow around his eyes.
“I asked him if he had come to see you, and he agreed he had. He said you were working on his house. I said you weren’t far away, and he would have to wait outside, and he did.” She shrugged, then her face fell. “Oh,” she added guiltily.
“What?”
“I may have let slip that you’re a shifter,” she said wincing. “He seemed surprised.”
Jared shrugged. “That’s his look-out. I don’t hide it.” If anything, he seemed to lean in closer to her. “That all he said?”
Pris’s eyes flickered. “He asked if I had made an apple pie, but I don’t see what bearing that has on anything…”
“Apple pie?”
Pris nodded in the direction of the oven. “I did say I would make you one,” she reminded him.
He glanced toward the oven and then back at her. “Why did you mention the shifter thing?” he asked, looking suddenly curious.
Pris’ gaze fell. “Well, considering how nervous he was, it sounds stupid, but I wanted him to know I had a big, bad shifter who was going to be home any minute..”
His fingers were at her chin, tilting her gaze back up to meet his. “You wanted him to know your man was a shifter, Pris?” he growled.
She nodded.
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“I wanted him to know my man was a shifter,” she said obediently, and he shivered, his thigh pressing insistently between hers. Oh god. Then his mouth was on hers and Pris was clinging to his big, brawny arms. The soft flannel of his shirt felt good under her fingers, stretched over his hard muscle. She moaned into his mouth and he pulled abruptly back, gazing down at her. “I need a shower,” he rumbled in a deep gravelly voice.
Pris had to catch her breath before she could reply. “Okay honey. Are we still heading over to the mall?” she asked. “Or are we doing that tomorrow?”
Jared looked back at her blankly.
“We were going to pick up a small table and a few things,” she reminded him.
“Oh…yeah,” he said, with a small shake of his head.
Pris looked at him shrewdly. “Time for you and your bear?” she asked hesitantly.
He grimaced. “I think so, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “You’ll be here when I get back?”
“Of course.” Pris glanced at the oven. “I’ll serve up dinner when you get back.”
“Lock the door behind me.” He hovered a moment, and Pris thought he would say something else, but instead he turned abruptly and plunged outside, the door swinging shut behind him.
Pris busied herself making a pot of coffee. If past experience could be counted on, he would be at least an hour. The pasta sauce was pre-prepared, so she would just need to heat that through and boil the pasta. In the meantime, she took out her phone and googled vintage fifties style beauty parlor interiors. She browsed through these whilst sipping her coffee. Every so often, her thoughts wandered back toward Harber, and his wild-eyed confusion when he stood in the doorway of the trailer. There was something jarring about it. Had he expected to find the trailer empty? And if so, what had his plan been? Surely someone driving a Porsche would not want to rob someone he was hiring to build his house? As she mulled this over, she finished the meal preparation and laid the table. She had tipped the roasted vegetables into the spaghetti sauce and was just stirring it on the stove, when she saw Jared emerge from the woods as a dark outline and then cross the field toward her. His shadow looked a little indistinct and bulky at first, but then he seemed to grow sharper and more human-shaped and she saw him stepping into his jeans and drawing a shirt over his rippling physique. By the time he was halfway across the field, she had the pie out the oven and was straining the pasta. She unlocked the trailer door when he was a few feet away.
“If you take your shower, it’ll be on the table by the time you’re out,” she announced, turning from the table. To her surprise he was directly behind her, and instead of brushing past her to the bathroom, he instead pulled her against him, and enveloped her in a deep hug. Pris wrapped her arms around his waist, surrounded by his solid body. She buried her nose in his shirt. He smelled like the woods. “What do you do with your clothes when you’re a bear?” she asked curiously, but Jared didn’t speak. Pris tilted her head up to try and get a look at his face, but he tucked her head back against his shoulder. Okay, clearly he did not want to talk.
When he did speak, moments later, his voice was gravelly and deep. “You got anything you want to say to me?” he asked.
Pris tipped her head back. “Um. Dinner’s ready?” she ventured.
He stared down at her a moment and gave his head a little shake. “Anything else?”
She pondered this a moment. Something felt off. “Do we owe that guy money?” she asked quietly.
“No.”
His answer was firm and sounded final, but still she had this nagging unease that something was being left unsaid.
“Do I need to worry?” she asked slowly.
“No.”
She could feel the tension running through him though. His fingers kept tightening on her and it felt involuntary. “Is everything okay?” she said trying a different approach.
He didn’t answer for a moment. “I have a few things I need to sort out. But you got nothing to worry about. This is on me.”
It must be about the business, she thought. Maybe this guy was trying to renege on their contract or something? “Okay,” she said, giving up on the idea of getting Jared to share. He clearly was not the sharing type. And considering her own shady past, maybe she should be grateful about that?
“Okay?” he echoed.
She shrugged. “You’re not going to tell me what that little visit was about so…I guess I’ll just have to trust you on this.”
He squinted down at her. “You’re gonna trust me on this?” he said, clearing his throat.
“Yep.” She squeezed his hip. “I’d prefer not to have that guy come by again when I’m on my own, but…”
He gave a low growl. “He won’t be pulling a stunt like that again,” he said grimly.
Pris found she believed him. “Okay then,” she said. “Are you gonna take a shower?” she prompted gently, when he didn’t move.
“Shower,” he repeated. “Right.” With reluctance he loosened his hold and she slid down his legs to stand on her own two feet. Then he bent his head and pressed a brief kiss against her mouth. It was so unexpected she didn’t really get a chance to respond. Instead she pressed her fingertips against her mouth as he moved through the trailer, and only when she heard the shower start up did she rouse herself from her thoughts, to finish dishing up their meal.
Jared made short work of the pasta dish, demolishing it in three platefuls. She had to grate him more parmesan as the bowlful she had prepared was not nearly enough. In fact, she ended up using the whole wedge of cheese, which in her mind she had thought would last them a few meals. Clearly, she had got used to cooking for one! After that, she cut him a huge piece of apple pie and served it with cream. He closed his eyes on the first mouthful and sat back against the back of his seat. “You made this?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at her.
She nodded, and he hunched back over his bowl.
“I hope that Harber guy paid you up front, Jared. I bet you he’s going bankrupt or something,” she guessed darkly. “What does he do for a living?”
Jared’s spoon paused in the air where it hovered before his mouth. He cleared his throat. “Don’t think he made his own money,” he said grudgingly. “He messes around with sculptures.”
“An artist?” said Pris with surprise. She poured a little more cream on her slice of pie. “I suppose it was artistic temperament then,” she added with a frown. “His nervousness, I mean.”
“Maybe,” he grunted.
She switched to safer subjects, and told him about her day at the salon. She hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to tell him about her spat with his sister yet. “Um, did Luke invite us to a barbecue at his place on Saturday?” she asked, pushing away her empty bowl. Jared seemed to consider this a moment. “Yeah,” he said, almost with surprise. “He did say something about it, now you mention it.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t usually go to those things,” he admitted with a wince. “Debs’ family is on the large-side and I’m not much of a one for crowds of people. We could go though, if you want-”
“I think we might be uninvited,” she confessed in a rush. “I kind of a had a run-in with Daisy at the salon today…” Pris gave him a hurried and unvarnished account of what happened. To her surprise, Jared gave a short laugh.
“Darlin’, Daisy’s had a run-in with every single one of Debs’ three sisters, her mother and her two aunts. There isn’t a member of this family Daisy hasn’t had a spat with at some time or other.” He gave a shrug. “It’s just the way she is.”
Pris’ shoulders sagged with relief. “Confrontational?”
“A pain in the ass,” he corrected her dryly, as she hurried to cut him another piece of pie. “Debs won’t bat an eyelid if my sister’s giving you the cold shoulder. Half Deb’s family can’t stand Daisy. Anyway, Dais attends family barbecues even less than I do. It ain’t likely she’ll even show.”
“Really?” Pris poured him the rest of the cream carton into his bowl. “What about your aunt?”
“She knows my sister better than anyone,” said Jared matter-of-factly. “You got nothing to worry about there.”
Pris propped her chin on her hand and watched him finish off the rest of the apple pie.
“Best apple pie I ever ate,” he announced, dropping his spoon with a sigh.
“Seriously?”
He gave a solemn nod. “Not much for empty flattery, Pris. I give praise where it’s due.”
She tipped her head to one side, considering this. Was that true? “I don’t know…” she said teasingly.
His eyebrows rose. “What?”
“You flatter me all the time, Jared,” she pointed out with a smile.
“Well, there’s a reason for that,” he said softly, and his gaze grew so warm that Pris felt her breath catch. “C’mere Pris.”
“There’s no room,” she said suddenly feeling shy. He fitted into the table seating area very snugly. Really, his frame was far too big for the trailer. “And I need to clear away after dinner.”
“It’s safe,” he said huskily, and she frowned remembering he’d said that before when he’d kissed her.
“What do you mean by that exactly?” she asked, rising out of her seat and coming around the table.
He pulled her down on to his lap and this time when he kissed her it was not brief or unexpected. His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, and he slanted his mouth against hers in a wet, hot, exploratory kiss that zinged through her body like a static shock. Every part of her seemed to spring to trembling life and she strained against him, as his other hand slid down her side and cupped her butt, pulling her firmly against him. Was that her making breathy, encouraging noises into his mouth? Her head reeling, she tried to stop from rocking herself against him, but gave up with a defeated moan, as she crushed her breasts into his chest and strained against him, in unspoken appeal. Her arms were clutching at his back and shoulders, but Jared was holding himself very still beneath her, damn it, even as his tongue possessed her mouth and made her wild with need. She almost forgot to breathe at one point and he had to release her so she could fill her burning lungs with air. If she couldn’t feel his erection underneath her, she would have been embarrassed by her own enthusiasm. She was trembling, and felt the loss of his mouth with a ridiculous sense of devastation.
“Why – why are we stopping?” she stammered, avoiding his gaze.
His hand was suddenly at her jaw, his thumb tilting her face up. “Not till you get your memory back, Pris,” he said gruffly.
“What? Why?”
“Wouldn’t be right.”
“Well but…We don’t know how long that’s going to take!” she practically wailed at him. If he’d looked amused, she would have been furious, but luckily, amused was the last thing he looked. She noticed his nostrils were flared and he was breathing hard, even if his breath was measured. There was no green glow to his eyes this time though, she realized with disappointment. Which meant he was in perfect control of himself and the situation. “I’m not kissing you again, then,” she said tightly and tried to spring off his lap, but his arms tightened around her preventing it.
“Yes, you will,” he said ominously. Then added with a groan. “You’ve got to give me something, Pris.”
His gaze she noticed was still on her mouth, and she felt a little mollified. “I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” she pointed out.
He took a shuddering breath. “Can’t let you do that.”
“Surely that’s my decision?” she said folding her arms over her hard nipples and wishing she didn’t sound so sulky.
“You can’t make an informed decision, not like this,” he said, closing his eyes briefly. “It wouldn’t be fair.”
Pris frowned, as a sudden thought dawned on her. “Did we fight? Before I moved down here, I mean?”
“All the time,” he said on an outward breath.
Pris’s eyes widened. What? “Why?” she asked in dismay, her hands falling to her sides.
“Because I wanted you. Here. Like this.” His gaze wandered over her. “Badly.”
She considered this. “And I wasn’t ready to commit?” she hazarded, uncertainly.
He gave a short laugh. “You could say that.”
“Why?”
His reply blind-sided her. “Because I’m not good enough for you,” he said grimly. “Up, Pris.” He flexed his thighs beneath hers.
“I’m sure, I never thought that…” she said hotly.
“Yeah, you did. And you were right,” he said, tipping her off his lap.
Pris drew in a sharp breath. “I thought I was too good for you?” she asked, as he straightened up and walked toward the sink. It took like two steps for his long legs. He turned on the tap and put his hand under it waiting for the water to turn hot. Then he started stacking the washing up. She realized he thought the conversation was over.
“Jared-“”
“Pris, go take a shower, or get settled in front of the TV,” he said over his shoulder. “I got this.”
“But-”
He turned back to the dishes, and she stared a moment at his back in thwarted frustration. After a moment or two, she got up and walked through to the sitting area. Pris zipped her hoody right up to her chin, and pulled the hood over her head, hunkering down into the seat. She really needed a fleecy blanket to huddle in, but for now this would have to do. She folded her arms and her legs and stared moodily at the blank screen. Then she noticed her cell phone and reached for it. She had missed a few messages from the girls and scrolled through the conversation to catch up. Bettina had mentioned that she was watching All About Eve on one of the nostalgia channels, and now Billie and Lois were giving it a go too. Pris reached for the remote and switched it on to the same channel.
Bear Faced Liar Page 14