Grizzly Promise: A Werebear Shifter Romance (Arcadian Bears Book 4)

by Becca Jameson

  “I already put Dale on my thank-you list.”

  She giggled. It went to his cock. He ignored it and forced himself to release her and round to the trunk of her car.

  When she popped it open, he grabbed her suitcases. “This is all you brought?”

  “I have a few more things, but this is most of it. I didn’t bring much. I stored most of my stuff at my mom and dad’s house when I broke my lease in Calgary. Well, your sister’s house right now. Alton’s apartment was already furnished. All I needed was clothes.”

  He headed for the house with one suitcase in each hand. “If this is your idea of three months’ worth of clothing, I’m indeed the luckiest man alive.”

  She opened the front door for him and held it. “I’ve never been a very complicated person. All I need is some spandex pants and skin-tight tanks, and I’m good to go to the grocery store.”

  He hesitated, realized she was kidding, and then laughed. “Woman.”

  She giggled as she followed him down the hall. “Seriously, I’ve spent my entire adult life hiding. I own thick sweaters and jeans. Not much else.”

  He dropped her bags inside the master bedroom and turned toward her. “Then I’d say it’s time you came out of your shell.” He lifted a finger and pointed it directly at her, though. “Not so far out that other men feel the need to stare, but far enough that you find what suits you and get to know yourself.”

  “I’m good for now. One step at a time.” She set her hands on his chest, fingers spread. “In less than a week, I moved, found out I had a mate, started a research project, broke up with my gay boyfriend, and moved in with a man I haven’t even slept with. I’m so unglued it’s a wonder I’m still standing.”

  He set his hands over her smaller ones on his chest and squeezed them.

  She kept going, her words coming out in rapid succession, only marginally directed at him, as if she were simply making a list to herself. “I have no idea if I’ll ever be able to let my guard down enough to consummate my current relationship. If I can, there’s no guarantee I’ll be any good at it. I have to worry about disappointing my new boyfriend. I haven’t even met his extended family or even his brother before I so presumptuously moved into his house. And, if all that isn’t enough, a strange woman is following me around everywhere I go taking notes and driving me crazy. So, yeah, I’m having a busy week. I don’t think I need a wardrobe change nor can I fit in a trip to the mall.” She smiled up at him.

  He couldn’t keep from laughing as he smoothed his hands up her arms and over her shoulders until he could pull her closer. “That is a lot. Maybe you could hit a department store on Saturday. I think Alton’s sister Adriana is good at fashion. She could take you?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  At least she understood his humor. But it was time to get serious. “As for consummating your relationship, I’d rather you not refer to it as your quote current relationship. It’s your last one. Trust me when I say you can’t possibly be bad at anything related to sex. So check that off your list of concerns. And like I said, I will not ever be pressuring you or rushing you in any way, so check that off also.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, it’s enough to last me a month. Just having you here makes me the happiest man alive. I don’t need anything else.” He lowered his face slowly, gauging her reaction and ensuring she realized his intent before he took her lips.

  She leaned into him and tipped her head to one side. All the encouragement he needed to deepen the kiss.

  He slid his hands into her hair and held her head where he wanted it to continue devouring her. She tasted like heaven. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep things simple. She’d been in his house all of five minutes. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the hell out of her by insinuating they should immediately get naked and start the rest of their lives.

  When his cock was so hard it hurt, he finally broke the kiss slowly, his fingers still threaded in her hair. He set his forehead against hers, holding her gaze at that close distance. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving us a chance. For making my day.”

  “Anytime.”

  Wyatt felt his father reaching out to him. He pulled back a few inches. “Hang on.” He knew she would realize he was communicating with someone when she saw his face turn blank. It was the most telltale sign a shifter was exchanging information telepathically. It was subtle enough regular humans wouldn’t necessarily notice, but a grizzly always knew.

  “Dad?”

  “Hey, sorry to bug you. Wanted to give you a heads up.”

  “It’s okay. What’s up?”

  “That reporter you told me about, Kelly Smith?”

  “Yeah?” He already didn’t like this conversation.

  “She’s spying on people.”

  “Seriously? Who?” He had hoped Paige was right and Kelly had been in his backyard yesterday to see if Paige was there and rat her out. He hadn’t honestly believed that. The woman gave him a bad vibe, but he had hoped.

  “She’s been several places this afternoon. Our brewery. Mountain Peak Brewery. Isaiah’s house. And even Austin’s house.”

  “Shit.”

  “That’s all I know, but the woman has a fine camera. She snaps pictures constantly, and she has no idea in the world everyone can easily scent her.”

  “What the hell does she want?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think it has anything to do with Paige.”

  “You’re right. Let me know if you hear of anything else. I’ll break this insanity to Paige.”

  “Everything okay with her?”

  “Better than. I’ll explain later.”

  “Happy for you, son.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Later.” He broke the connection and tipped his head back down to Paige.

  “Everything okay?”

  “No.”

  »»•««

  Paige paced Wyatt’s kitchen, running her hands through her hair as he cooked. “I still don’t understand. I can’t think of a single reason why that woman is spying on everyone.”

  “It’s a mystery. That’s for sure. But now you have a new problem. You have to shake her.” He twisted his upper body around to send Paige a look that meant he was so totally not going to accept less than compliance on this issue.

  “You’re probably right.”

  “I don’t need to be right. I hope I’m wrong. I’m just saying I don’t want you alone with her. Ever.”

  “That’s going to be hard. Especially if we don’t want her to think we’re aware of her activity.”

  He lifted a brow. “I’ll think of something. Just promise me you won’t meet with her alone.”

  She wandered over to him and patted his arm. “Don’t get your panties in a wad, big guy. I’m more freaked out by her than you are. Trust me. She’s very strange, and her moods switch so often I have whiplash.”

  “Did you get ahold of your professor? I’m curious what he thinks.”

  “I called twice. There was no answer. So I sent him another email, but unfortunately, all I got was an out-of-the-office response. He must be on vacation.”

  “That’s not helpful. Who is her professor?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t say. And now I’m afraid to ask and cause her to get suspicious.” Paige leaned over the stove and inhaled the scent of tomato sauce. “I love that you cook.”

  He angled his head toward her, met her gaze, and then lowered his face to kiss her lips briefly. She noticed that he never made a single move without checking with her first, verbally or often non-verbally, and it melted her heart that he worked so hard to be careful about her feelings about being touched.

  He was spot on too. He totally understood that she needed forewarning before he touched her. It made all the difference, giving her those few seconds to set her mind straight about who was touching her and what he meant to her. If he snuck up behind her and touched her, she would most likely screa
m loud enough to wake the dead and then rear back and kick him in the balls.

  When he intended to kiss her, he met her gaze first. When he intended to touch her, he showed his hands first. It was so damn sweet. And he had no idea how fast her body was acclimating to his touch and craving more.

  Could she sleep with him? Like take all her clothes off and open up to that level of vulnerability? She wasn’t sure. But she was inching closer to wanting to try.

  No, she was totally there emotionally. The thing holding her back was fear of scaring the hell out of him and ruining things between them if she totally lost it and panicked.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” he whispered against her temple.

  She turned toward his side and flattened her palm on his chest. She did that a lot. It was soothing to have her hand over his heart, feel it beating, knowing it sped up because of her.

  He set his lips on the top of her head and kissed her hair. “You smell fantastic.”

  “This guy I know bought me this raspberry-vanilla shampoo. It’s nice.”

  “He sounds like a great guy. You should hang on to him.”

  “I fully intend to. Assuming he doesn’t think I’m possessed by aliens when I wake up screaming in the night because I had a nightmare or he inadvertently touched me.”

  Wyatt moaned softly. “The only thing I care about concerning that statement is that you intend to be in my bed. We’ll deal with the rest as it happens. One step at a time.”

  She trembled against him, leaning closer, closing her eyes to absorb the moment fully. Every time she was with him, she was able to get closer, losing another piece of her phobia about being touched. And every moment with him was a new best moment in her life.

  “Hey,” he whispered, releasing the spoon he was stirring with to lift his arm around her and draw her closer to his side. “You okay?”

  “So happy,” she told his chest.

  He squeezed her tight. Yeah, another best moment.

  He was so in tune with her that he always knew exactly when and how to comfort her. She quivered, wondering if the feeling would increase after they completed the binding.

  Half of her wanted to ask him to do it and get it over with because she assumed the scarier parts of being in a bound pair would come easier after the fact. The other half of her thought that would be selfish and unfair because if the scarier parts turned out to be way too scary for her to handle, she would have trapped him in a lifetime of frustration.

  Wyatt interrupted her wandering mind with gentle words. “Go sit down, babe. I’ll bring everything to the table.” And there he was, taking care of her again. Another best moment. She would start crying if he got any sweeter.

  As soon as he had the pasta, a salad, bread warm from the oven, and the steaming bowl of sauce on the table, he sat next to her and set his hand, palm up, on the table in front of her. “Give me your hand.”

  She set hers in his.

  The moment he engulfed her fingers in his warm ones and lifted their combined hands to his face, she calmed. “Relax. Your emotions are all over the place. There’s no need to be worried. I’m right here. Not going anywhere. Not going to pressure you. Not going to rush you. Not going to do anything you aren’t ready for.

  “I’m so honored you’ve given me this chance, trusted me enough to move in. I’m nervous too because I don’t want you to have any negative experiences. But I also realize sometimes you will. Sometimes things will happen that cause you unintentional stress. I’ll apologize in advance and do my best to always keep your comfort in mind. I’m not perfect. I’ll fuck this up occasionally. But hopefully, we can get past each hurdle and grow stronger from them.”

  She swallowed back emotional overload, unable to speak in the face of another best moment. They were coming at her rapidly now. Too many to count. “We should eat before it gets cold,” she murmured.

  He smiled. “Yeah.” One last squeeze of her hand and he set it on the table and picked up his fork.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Wyatt came out of the bathroom later that night to find Paige sitting in the center of the bed, her legs crisscrossed in front of her. She was leaning over her iPad, but when he entered, she lifted her gaze. She looked so damn vulnerable and skittish sitting there. They’d slept in his bed together before, but he knew she saw this as totally different.

  A new problem existed. Her attire. If he thought the large T-shirt and tight spandex workout clothes were bad, this sleeping outfit of hers brought him to his knees. Is this what she always wore to bed? Or had she specifically chosen such a thing in attempt to torture him?

  His gaze must have wandered up and down her body too many times because she suddenly glanced down and then set her iPad aside and drew her knees up against her chest to wrap her arms around them.

  He climbed up next to her, feeling like a tiger and hoping she didn’t see it that way. He couldn’t decide what to say. He considered so many options but had no idea how she would respond to them. He could tease her about underdressing again. He could tell her she was sexy as hell in that thin, pale-pink, cotton tank and matching tiny shorts. He could say something unrelated and pretend he didn’t have an instant hard-on from her outfit. Or he could say nothing at all and turn off the light to avoid more damage to his blue balls.

  She saved him having to make a choice. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to sleep in here or not. I could sleep in your guest room or something.” Her voice trailed off. “I mean, if it bothers you. I know you don’t like me traipsing around your house in so little clothing, but I don’t sleep well in much more than this. I tend to feel trapped.”

  He sat against the headboard as close to her as he dared, leaning against it, his legs stretched out in front of him. He didn’t have on a shirt, but he’d put on a pair of flannel pants to keep her from hyperventilating. They hid his erection better than boxers. He reached out a hand toward her in her line of sight, palm up, his new custom. “Come here.” His voice cracked, sounding like someone else’s.

  She set her smaller hand in his, unfolded her body, and turned to crawl closer.

  Damn. Her tits. He wasn’t sure which was better, the view he remembered from last night when she’d let him take her shirt off, or this new mind-boggling vision of her fabulous breasts held by tight feminine cotton so thin her nipples were visible.

  The straps were nothing but pale pink lace that did very little to hold up the shirt. He noticed the same lace was stitched around the bottom edge of her barely existent shorts. Fuck me.

  When she reached his side, her knees an inch from his thigh, she sat back on her heels. Her tits looked bigger. Her waist seemed smaller. And he swore the flare of her hips was meant to drive any man insane. “You’re not sleeping in another room. You’re my mate. You’ll sleep with me. Every night for the rest of our lives. If you need me to stay on my side of the bed and not touch you, I can make that happen, but I want to be close enough to feel your heat and hear your breathing. Okay?”

  “Another best moment,” she whispered.

  “Huh?”

  She smiled, tipping her head to one side and looking embarrassed. “You keep giving me best life moments. I think that’s eleven for the evening.”

  His chest, which had seized the instant he walked in the room, gripped tighter. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on a guy, babe. How am I going to be able to live up to my own previous standards tomorrow?” he teased.

  “It doesn’t come from effort. It comes from the heart.” She set her hand on his chest again. She did that often. And then she shocked him by climbing onto his lap, sitting sideways so that her thigh rested against his dick.

  He needed to adjust himself, but he didn’t dare.

  Her next words made his heart stop seizing because it stopped beating altogether. “I can’t decide if we should complete the binding first or have sex first.” Her gaze was on his chest where she’d placed her other hand so that now both were smoothing over his pecs.

 
; Did he hear her right? He couldn’t speak.

  She kept talking. “On the one hand, if we bind first, I figure it will make our connection so much stronger that the sex will come naturally, and I’ll be less stressed about it by default. On the other hand, if I suck at sex or can’t bring myself to actually do it, you’ll be bound to me and stuck with a frigid mate.”

  He shuddered, his mouth falling open.

  But she continued, “If we have sex first, it might be awesome and prove that we’re meant to be together in a way that will ease any concerns you have about binding to me and relax us both in the knowledge we’re making the right decision.”

  She was so full of shit. But he didn’t have a chance to tell her that because she wasn’t done.

  “On the flip side, if we have sex first and wait to complete the binding some other time, we run the risk of me having a panic attack during sex and driving a wedge between us that could do irreparable damage. It selfishly scares the hell out of me to think you might be disappointed by my inability to enjoy myself in your bed, which might keep you from even wanting to bind to me. Either way, the thought is so isolating. I already feel a deep loneliness seeping in from the disappointment. Mine and yours. And things between us are so good right now.”

  He swallowed. Where should he even begin?

  She lifted her gaze, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You see my conundrum?”

  At that last question, the serious nature of her speech lost its effect, and he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

  She winced.

  He sobered. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Well, maybe I am, but only because you’re so damn cute. Conundrum? I’ve never once in my life considered sex a conundrum.”

  “Well, it is.” She pursed her lips, her hands stilling on his chest.

  He lifted his to her sides slowly, making sure she knew he was about to touch her and set them on her waist. “You’re way overthinking things.”

  “You can’t tell me how to feel, Wyatt.”

  He nodded. “You’re right. I don’t mean to insinuate you don’t have a right to your concerns. You own them. But I need you to understand a few things. Nothing you do or don’t do is going to change how I feel about you. If I have to say that a thousand times, I will. It doesn’t work that way.” He slid one hand up her side and then settled it over both of hers against his heart.