Bear Faced Liar

by Alice Coldbreath

  “I told them to,” she said simply. “I think I was waiting for you to come get me. I just didn't realize it at the time.”

  Her words were so sweet he had to close his eyes a moment. “You were waiting for me, Pristine?” he asked, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. “My baby's smart,” he could hear the pride in his voice. Our mate's smart, he pointed out to his bear. His bear bristled with irritation. He thought Jared was being a stupid fucking human. His bear already knew all this. He'd known it all along. Jesus.

  “Can we go home now?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” he agreed.

  “I need to call the girls,” she said softly. “They'll be worried.”

  “Call Carole-Ann when we get back,” he said. “She can spread the word. I'll call Luke. He can tell Debs and Aunt ‘Tunia.”

  “Okay.”

  “We're just gonna hole up today, Pris. You and me. No-one else.”

  “Hibernate?” she joked with a small smile.

  “Hibernate,” he agreed deadly serious.

  “Okay,” she said again. Neither of them made a move to disentangle.

  “Let's get the hell out of here, baby.”

  She pulled away and headed to the bathroom. He started dragging on his clothes. When she emerged fully dressed, he watched as she stuffed a toothbrush and some underwear into a second handbag he didn’t recognize.

  He held his hand out to her and she snagged her other purse, dropping her phone into it.

  “You got everything?”

  She nodded, taking his hand.

  “Let's go.”

  When they checked out it was a different desk clerk.

  “You should leave a tip for that poor guy from last night, you frightened him out of his mind,” she murmured as they made their way to the truck.

  He snorted. “That poor guy who led me right to your room?” he asked. “I could have been a fucking stalker, he didn't give a shit.”

  She bit the side of her mouth but seemed to concede his point. When they reached the car park she tried to pull her hand free and he wheeled around.

  “What the hell, Pris?”

  “My car's here,” she said pointing it out. “I'll drive my car back to the trailer.”

  “Like hell you will. I want you in the truck with me.”

  “I'm not leaving my car, Jared.”

  “I can get Luke to drop me tomorrow and I'll fetch it...”

  “I'm driving my car back,” she said firmly. “I may need it.”

  “Why?” he asked, anger flaring.

  “Work, my friends, a million reasons Jared.” She plunked a hand on her hip, standing her ground.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “You need to pick your battles, Pris,” he said softly.

  “Oh I am. Believe me.”

  That bought him up short. Well shit.

  “You can follow me back. I'll be in your sights the whole time.”

  He steeled himself, waiting for his bear to roar, but the bastard was strangely complacent. Then it smacked him right between the eyes. His bear trusted her. Implicitly. He blinked.

  She was already fishing the keys out of her bag.

  “Pristine?”

  She looked up.

  He didn't even know what he was going to say. Thanks for trusting me and coming back to my lying ass? Instead he found himself saying: “I'm not letting you out of my sight.”

  “I know,” she gave him a small smile. “I don't want you to.” Hesitantly she stood on tip toes giving him the sweetest, most chaste kiss of his life. Then she turned and got in that piece of shit yellow car. God, he needed to get her an upgrade.

  The fifteen minute drive back to the trailer had him gritting his teeth. He needed to get his shit together. When he was parking the truck, she ran up the steps and went into the trailer not even waiting for him. He hurried in after her and found her shedding yesterday’s work clothes down to the pink camisole and matching knickers. Then she walked through the trailer to the lounge and wrapped herself in the comforter on the couch.

  He drew off his boots, made them coffee and joined her minutes later. She shifted over to make room for him, but he pulled her back firmly into his lap. “What we watching?” he murmured into her hair. The shampoo smelled off. Hotel brand. Didn't matter. They could shower later and he'd wash her hair in the usual stuff.

  “Movie,” she answered. “Preferences?”

  “None. Your choice.”

  “I'll pick rom-com,” she warned.

  It made his throat ache. That she was back to being Christine Lascombe and she was no fucking different. She was still his Pristine. “Go for it baby,” his voice was raspy but if she noticed, she didn't mention it. She sat flipping through the movie options in her underwear. He drew the patchwork comforter over them both.

  “Okay, I've decided.” she said.

  “Good,” he murmured, burying his nose where her neck and shoulder met. He needed comfort from her sweet scent. He frowned wondering if he locked the trailer door. He didn't want any of his family barging in. Or her damn girl posse. Carole-Ann had effortlessly switched between the roles of accomplice and enemy last night several times. Clearly her loyalties lay with Pris, not him as a fellow bear. “Did you text your friends?”

  She reached for her phone, and it was as much as he could do not to haul her back. He bided his time as her thumb slid over the screen. “Done.” she said after two minutes and relaxed back against him. He slid his hand to cup her breast. She let him without giving him any shit over it. The movie sequences had started, and he noticed from the car explosion and the whirring helicopter blades that she had gone for an action movie in spite of her threats. He slid his other hand down over her stomach, holding her close. “Did you text your...ah, stepmothers?” he muttered against her ear.

  “Uh, no,” she said. “You're probably right though.” She pulled forward to get her cell again. he watched her fiercely frowning at the screen a moment before texting a message which seemed to have a few re-writes before she finally hit 'send'.

  “What did you say?” he found himself asking, then nearly kicked himself.

  “Just told them I was home and not to worry. I said I'd call them tonight.”

  Even though this was what he'd wanted. Getting back to the trailer. Being alone. Getting back to a normal Saturday, he had the weirdest impulse to turn the TV set off and get her to tell him exactly what the deal was with having three stepmothers. But Pristine was focused on Jason Statham kicking the shit out of someone so he guessed she was totally on-board with the original plan. Plus, she was letting him pet her and hold her close. He needed to focus on the important stuff. She had suffered a hell of a shock the day before. The fall-out should have been worse than this, but she had been fucking golden. He had no right to demand any explanations or soul-baring. He needed to just be grateful as hell that she hadn't sicced the law on him and left. He gritted his teeth again and brushed his thumb over her belly-button.

  She laced her fingers through his. “I don't think I ever watched an action movie before I was with you,” she admitted. “But I love them now. I love so many things.” she paused. “I never really had the conviction to love anything before you.”

  He wrapped his arms tighter around her and buried his face in her neck. He couldn't even speak. She still didn't comment on his weird fucking behavior. He didn't even know what was wrong with him.

  “Jared?” she said softly. “It's okay.”

  He shook his head. When she tried to turn to face him, he wouldn't let her. “You were sick. You needed me.” he said. He could barely recognize his own voice. “You got your memory back and...Jesus baby....” He couldn't even finish. He hated himself for this. Making her comfort him when she was the injured party.

  “You came for me,” she reminded him. “I knew you would and you did.”

  “I'll always come get you Pristine.”

  She tightened her fingers on his and then her other hand reached behind her to touch h
is jaw. “I know that.”

  On the screen people were yelling about some kind of security breach. He had no clue what was happening. Instead he pressed his lips to the side of her neck and squeezed his eyes shut. She angled her head to allow him access and then leaned back against him. It hurt him that he'd ever thought she was a bitch. She was sweet as spun sugar. As maple syrup. God, he wanted to eat her up forever.

  “You're mine, Christine,” he said, deliberately using her given name.

  “I know,” she said simply. “It's mutual.”

  “Yeah it is. Why'd you say it then?” Her words had hurt, God damn it.

  She paused, though he had no doubt she knew what he was referring to. “I was hurting,” she admitted softly. “For a moment, I doubted it.”

  “Don't doubt it again,” he said tightly.

  She seemed to digest this. “I won't,” she said. Her voice was soothing. She stroked his arm. “Trust me Jared. Like I trust you.”

  He slid his hand over her panties and cupped her. For some reason it comforted him. She didn't even protest. Just let out a breath.

  “I think he's ex-special forces. Now acting as a bodyguard,” she said catching him up on the movie.

  “Okay,” for the next 90 minutes he just held her close. After the movie ended, she wanted to get up and make breakfast. He just about tolerated this. After they'd eaten he insisted they showered together. He ate kneeling between her legs in the shower and worshipped her with his mouth, then had her again in their bed. It was even more mind-blowing than before, though he managed to last longer this time. Marginally. Then they curled up on the sofa and watched another movie. This time it was his pick.

  “Whatever you want,” he'd said again.

  She'd looked askance at this and then picked some Julia Roberts flick about pizza waitresses. Again, he'd just taken the opportunity to hold her as closely as possible.

  “You have sexy forearms,” she'd murmured at one point.

  He didn't really get the forearm thing. “You have sexy everything,” he'd replied.

  Her phone buzzed, making him frown again. She ignored it the first and second time and then on the third she reached for it.

  “It's my favorite step-mom,” she said confidingly.

  He thought about this before replying. “Why's she your favorite?” he asked.

  “Hmmm,” she seemed to consider this as she texted. “I guess because she bothered to forge a relationship with me independent of my father.”

  He mulled this over a moment. “Your old man's dead?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Two years.”

  “How come he married so often?”

  “Fidelity really wasn't his thing,” she said at last. “Which sucked.”

  He thought this over. Remembered her screaming matches with Stuart Harber. “Yeah, it would. You deserve one-hundred percent fidelity in your life, Pristine. Nothing less.”

  “Agreed.”

  “You didn't trust Harber,” he found himself saying.

  “No,” she exhaled. “I never trusted Stuart. He used to lie about where he was, what time he would be home. I never had any actual proof and maybe I was just paranoid after my upbringing...”

  “You never gave me any of that shit,” he pointed out.

  “No. But I didn't remember my childhood then. Maybe I'll turn into some jealous, raging virago from now on.”

  He wasn't quite sure what a virago was, but he didn't believe it for an instant. “I'll never give you cause, Pris.” She stroked her thumb over his fingers at her hip. “Never. When we're mated, you'll know that for sure,” he added softly then waited for her response. She squeezed his fingers slightly but that was all he got.

  “Do you think you'd ever want to meet them?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Who?” The rapid change of subject threw him for a moment.

  “My step-mothers. At least...the first two. Not Jenna. They want me to go meet them for a meal at some point this weekend at their hotel. I thought maybe you might want to join us.”

  “I'll come,” he answered swiftly.

  “Really?” she turned her head to look him in the eye. “It'll probably be a bit tense.”

  “Tense is fine baby. I can do tense.”

  “Great,” she breathed out.

  “Where they staying?”

  “Some golf and spa hotel, about forty minutes away,” she answered absently.

  “Sounds fancy,” he said, drawing a pattern with his finger over her hip.

  “I'm sure it is,” she sounded distracted. “Jared...”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  Her gaze dipped. “What do you want to do about lunch? There's chicken noodle soup in the fridge. We could have it with grilled cheese sandwiches.”

  “Sounds good,” he answered cautiously. He was pretty sure that wasn't what she had been intending to tell him. “I'll warm the soup, you toast the cheese?”

  “Perfect team,” she smiled, but he could tell something was on her mind.

  After lunch she washed, and he dried.

  “Want to go for a walk?” she asked, wiping her hands dry.

  “Nope.”

  “Want to go for a drive?”

  “Nope.”

  “Want to huddle under the comforter watching movies all afternoon?” she asked, her lips quirking into a smile.

  “We're still in hibernation mode,” he reminded her.

  “I nearly forgot,” she said.

  “We don't have to watch movies if you don't want,” he said. “We could just pull the comforter over our heads and make out.”

  “Make out?”

  He nodded slowly, his eyes roaming up and down the shorty pajamas she'd changed into after their shower. He wanted to do more than make out with her, but he needed to show he wasn’t just a selfish prick. He placed the last of the clean cutlery back in the drawer and then turned to face her. “Or we could talk.”

  He watched the panicked look chase over her face before she quickly composed herself. “Can't we just... enjoy this while it lasts?” she said hurriedly.

  His gut twisted. “What?”

  “I mean, before things change,” she waved one hand expressively. “You know, our pasts intrude on what we have...”

  “Just how do you see things changing, Pristine?” he demanded testily.

  Her gaze dropped from his. “I don't know,” she said lamely.

  He rammed the drawer shut. “Son of a bitch,” he said.

  She jumped. “Jared...”

  “Sorry, sorry.” He held up his hands and took a deep, juddering breath. This wasn’t working. He was being too heavy-handed and crowding her. He needed to back off before she ran from him, screaming. “You know what,” he said in his most measured voice. “I’m being selfish, making you hole up here with me. You should spend some time with your friends, let everyone see you’re okay after yesterday.”

  Pris gaped at him. “You want me to see my friends?” she asked slowly.

  He nodded. “They’ve all been worried sick. They were calling all night. You ought to see them.”

  Pris looked pale. “But, what about your family barbecue? Isn’t that this afternoon?”

  Shit, he’d forgotten all about the damn barbecue. “I don’t think either one of us is up to that right now,” he said frankly.

  Pris nodded dumbly. “I see,” she said, though he wasn’t sure she did. “I’ll go get dressed then.” She looked back over her shoulder at him before she disappeared into the bedroom, and he did his best to look calm. She didn’t look terribly reassured, but she did give him a weak smile before shutting the door after her. He guessed he’d have to be happy with that.

  **

  Half an hour later, Pris sat opposite her friends in Misty’s. She was wearing a fitted grey tee, jean shorts and Jared's blue-and-white-check flannel shirt. On her feet she had a pair of laced converse all-stars with no socks and her long, tanned legs were bare. Bettina, Carole-Ann, Lois and Billie all looked back at her expe
ctantly. “I guess I owe you guys an explanation for yesterday,” she said nervously.

  “What we need,” answered Carole-Ann bluntly, “Is to know what the hell is going on!”

  “Okay, I agree, you've been very patient,” started Chrissy taking a deep breath. She stared at the table-top a moment unsure how much to spill. Funnily enough, it was important to her that they didn't think the life she had built here in Cranston Falls was all a lie. She frowned. “I guess, my past caught up with me,” she said on an outward breath. “With a vengeance.”

  Lois reached over and touched her hand briefly. “It's okay, Pris honey,” she said. “We're here for you. No matter what.”

  Bettina agreed. “You been runnin' from your past, darlin'” she said. “But you've made a home here and you can make a stand. We'll make that stand with you. No matter what you done.”

  A lump formed in Pris’s throat and she blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “And I appreciate that, I really do,” she answered, her gaze sweeping all four of them. “You don't know how much. I've never had...this before,” she said swiveling her hand to encompass the five of them. “Female friendship, camaraderie...”

  “There she goes with them fancy words,” said Carole-Ann taking a swig of coffee.

  “You never had BFFs before,” said Lois, playing with the straw in her soda. “We get that. You were a stripper, so probably other women didn't exactly trust you around their men-folk.”

  Pris gave a strangled cough. “Well...I did have a um...a bestie,” she said painstakingly. “Jenna. The blonde from yesterday, with the oversized sunglasses? I’m sure you all saw her.”

  “Oh her,” said Lois. “The snooty bitch.”

  “Yeah, that's her,” agreed Pris absently. She took a deep breath. “We were best friends through high school and um...Then she ran off with my Dad just after my 21st birthday. She was his fourth wife.”

  This was met with a chorus of gasps. Lois plunked her soda bottle down on the table. “You mean like she was your BFF all through school, coming around your house to play Barbies, and then one day she up and runs off with your own Dad?”

  “Yeah.”