Sheltered by the Bear (Trapped in Bear Canyon Book 1)
Page 9
When he opened the room, he felt slightly self-conscious as he looked over it.
Definitely a bachelor’s room. A large fur rug on the ground. A bed made from polished logs. A small dresser with no mirror. A bathroom to the side.
This wasn’t his main place, though. He had to remind himself he had a more furnished room back at his house in Bear Canyon. Too bad that house held enough bad memories to cancel out any good feelings the comforts there might have given.
“It’s nice,” she said, sitting on the bed and folding her hands in her lap. “I mean, I don’t know why you always look so nervous when you show someone something. Like this or your shop.” She gave him a sweet smile. “Everything about you is wonderful.”
He nearly melted and fell at her feet.
He sat on the bed, and she patted the spot next to her, gesturing for him to come closer.
The air was doing that funny hot thing again, and he pulled at his collar, feeling like it was harder to breath.
She scooted in and put her hand on his chest. “You said no funny business, but you’re so hot I can’t not try for it.”
“Look,” he said. “We just made up. You want to complicate things again?”
She frowned. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to cause you trouble.”
He caught her hand in his and gave it a kiss. “You aren’t trouble. You’re wonderful, but you mix with the rest of my life like oil and water.”
“I see,” she said. “So if things had been different…”
“Yes,” he said. “If things had been different.”
“So when you ignored me, it wasn’t because you didn’t like me.”
“It’s because I like you too much. Too much to do this with you and just let you go. It’s safer for both of us if I pull back.”
“Fine,” she said, sitting up. “So where should I sleep?”
He was stunned by how quick she’d shut down and felt fairly guilty about it. “Huh?”
“In here,” she said, folding her arms over her generous chest. “Since we aren’t together and we aren’t supposed to do anything, should I sleep in this chair or on the rug?”
“Take the bed,” he said, surprised she wasn’t fighting him harder. “I’ll take the rug.”
She nodded and took her toiletry bag into his bathroom. He heard the water running and things clinking around and got changed and ready himself.
The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner he could get up and work and distract himself.
He turned off the light and curled up on the rug with a blanket and a pillow. It was fine.
He smelled her sweet scent as she reentered the room and climbed into his bed.
Ana in his bed.
He bit his own cheek and winced, rubbing it with his hand.
“Good night, Riker,” she said sharply, jolting him to attention.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
“Of course I’m mad,” she said. “There could be something good between us, but you’re choosing to throw it away without even seeing what it is.”
He knew what it was. The kind of love that could last a lifetime. The kind of love that would leave a scar, its depth depending on how deep into his heart he allowed her.
He turned over and forced himself to go to sleep.
10
The next morning, Ana woke to a note left beside her on the bed and an empty room that was cold in the crisp morning air. She couldn’t help but feel it would be warmer if Riker were around. She turned over and checked the clock, noting it was six, earlier than he’d ever left before for the fights.
She sighed and turned back over in bed, just wanting to lie there and not get up. Maybe it would be better for everyone if she just stayed in bed with her books until the time came to be picked up by friends in the canyon. There were only a few more days in the brawl.
She slept until a loud knock woke her, making her sit up and rub her eyes, staring blearily and wondering who would be waking her at this hour.
She checked the clock. Nine. She sighed.
“Stop sighing in there and get out here,” a loud voice shouted. That was Rock. “I need to apologize, and I have a present for you.”
“Go away, Rock,” she said. “I don’t think Riker would want you here.”
“Didn’t he leave a note? Listen, I’m super sorry about yesterday. I was an ass. I’m always an ass when I get like that. But I want to make it up to you.”
She liked Rock. Her heart hurt a little that she had to be suspicious of him.
“Read the note,” he pled.
So she did, unfolding it and bracing herself for whatever excuses Riker had for ditching her in the morning.
I’ve been neglecting my duties, and I think I need some time to think about what’s been happening between us. Please don’t feel like I’m abandoning you. I’m trying to do what’s right. And I need to check in on the fights, making my presence known so they stay in line. Like it or not, I’m a big part of these fights, and I forget that when I’m with you.
Hoping we can work this out soon,
Riker
PS: Rock just told me he wants to spend the first half of the day with you, and Ryland will spend the second half. I know you’ll be safe with my brothers, and I know Rock would never do anything disrespectful now that he’s sober. Either way, he came up with a plan to make you more comfortable, and I approved it. I hope you have a great day and look forward to seeing you this evening.
She folded up the letter thoughtfully. It was so him, so distant and polite and caring and frustrating all at the same time. And what was Rock’s plan?
“Probably wondering about my plan, aren’t you?” Rock teased from behind the door. “Come out here and I’ll show you.”
“Let me get dressed and come down there.”
There was shuffling as if Rock were moving around awkwardly. “Fine. See you at breakfast.”
She quickly got ready, taking a fast shower, pulling on a wool pullover with some jeans and ankle-high mud boots. Hair in a ponytail again because it just made sense in the mountains.
She took a deep breath as she went downstairs, and the hairs on her neck rose as she realized there was a stranger in the cabin.
“Who’s this?” she asked, looking at the fighter sitting at the table.
“You haven’t been watching the fights. That’s right,” Rock said, leaning back in his chair. Then he seemed to realize he should be the one making the introductions. “This is Francis.”
She gaped at the fighter she’d been betting on while watching the bracket sheets.
He was handsome, as she was coming to realize many shifters were. Short, dark-brown hair that was so thick it stood straight up, bushy brows over surprisingly soulful blue eyes. Strong, square jaw that was almost too masculine. Firm line where his lips would be. She had a feeling he’d be even more handsome if he smiled.
And he was big, too, like the brothers but even a little more filled out in certain areas. The difference between going to the gym and working outside probably.
He had smooth, even skin, and his nose looked like it had been broken a few times, but it only served to make him more handsome.
“Thought you would want to meet him,” Rock said. “Also, I talked to Riker about it, because I knew you might not be comfortable alone with me, but we’ve known Francis for a few years and he’s a good guy. We trust him to be your bodyguard when one of us isn’t here.”
Francis stood awkwardly, like he didn’t know how to approach her, and stepped forward to hold out a bandaged hand. “Nice to meet you, Ana.”
She flushed at his intense gaze. Why did all shifters manage to look at her like she was some kind of gorgeous model, even in casual hiking clothes and with no makeup? His gaze raked over her before he realized he was being rude and sat back down.
Rock pushed a plate of malformed pancakes her direction. “Breakfast?”
“Did you cook these yourself?” she asked,
poking the amoeba-like objects with her fork before reaching for the syrup.
“No,” Rock said. “Ryland did before he left. He’ll be Riker’s right-hand man this morning.” He eyed the pancakes. “He’s still perfecting his technique, but they taste good.”
She dug in and found he was right, and as Francis and Rock began to banter about the fights and she filled up on delicious food, she began to feel like everything would be fine again. If nothing else, at the end of this, she could go home to her friends and try to start her life again with the confidence that men that looked like this could like her.
That Riker could like her. Because he did like her, even if he wouldn’t allow himself to be with her.
“What do you want to do today?” Rock asked, folding his arms. “Anything at all.”
“I want to see a fight,” she said. “Heck, I want to watch all of them, but Riker wouldn’t take me.”
“Probably because you’d start a riot,” Francis muttered.
“What?” she asked.
He averted his gaze slightly, and she realized he was actually pretty shy, which was funny for a guy who made his living pounding things. “You’re pretty. You’re the only woman up here. You’re curvy. A lot of men are running high on testosterone. They want to celebrate.” He shrugged.
“Oh,” she said, disappointed.
“I don’t see why she shouldn’t see the fights if she wants to,” Rock said. “If a fighter can’t stay focused with a woman around, that’s his problem.”
Francis shrugged again. “I can protect you if you really want to go,” he said. “But I recommend we disguise your scent a bit, and I recommend we don’t sit where they normally expect Rock to be.”
She nodded, excited. Part of her was just happy to see Riker; the other part wanted to see what happened with these shifter brawls. After all, they’d overturned her life and kept her from going home, so she might as well see what all the fuss was about.
“How are we going to mask her scent?” Rock asked, biting the inside of his cheek.
Francis stood and put out his arms. “Like this.”
“Oh, Riker’s not gonna like that,” Rock said, shaking his head with a smile. His long hair was covering part of his face again. He froze. “Wait, actually, that’s perfect. Yes, do that.”
“Okay,” Francis said.
She stood up curiously, and before she could say anything, she was pulled headlong into an embrace, pressed firmly to Francis’s chest. His hands rubbed over her back, and he rubbed her against his whole body.
Still, she didn’t feel threatened or molested. Francis was all business as he ran his hands through her hair and touched his forehead to hers. It was oddly intimate, but she knew he was doing this for a purpose.
When he stepped back, flushing, he put a hand over his mouth and looked her over. “What do you think, Rock?”
Rock stood up and circled her. “Not bad. I think you missed a spot,” he said.
Her heart jumped. What?
Rock stepped forward and took her hands, placing them in his. He turned them over, pressing them against his, and then released her, stepping back.
Shifters were awfully casual about touch it seemed.
“Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?” Rock asked. “I just wanted to be thorough.” His head dropped. “Look, I’m so sorry about last night. I was—”
“It’s okay,” she said, giving him a quick hug. “You made up for it.” She gave a glowing smile to Francis, who lit up. “I would have just been sitting around moping. This will be an excellent distraction. I needed something to do other than Riker.”
Francis raised and eyebrow. Rock laughed. “You mean other than think about Riker.”
“Right, yes,” she said, flushing and heading for the door before any of them bothered her about it.
Francis chuckled and followed behind.
It was going to be a great morning, Riker or not.
They set up a little seating area with fold-up chairs that looked ridiculous under big guys like Rock and Riker just on the edge of the woods and away from the crowds, but on top of a small rise so they could still see the fighting cage.
During the first fight, she found she had a lot of questions to ask Francis, and he was patient in answering them. He also blushed frequently. He was a handsome man, and he was being open with her, not holding back like Riker did. Yet her eyes kept wandering to the platform where Riker stood with Ryland, making announcements and keeping an eye on the proceedings.
The rules were simple. The fight went until tap out or knockout. Sometimes they shifted to bears and finished the fights. When the fight was over, she had her first shock when one of the losers transformed back to human, totally naked, and Rock tried to cover her eyes.
She’d pushed him off, reminding him she’d seen naked men before, while Francis had looked like he was trying not to hear them.
On the second match, she became aware of the feeling of being watched. So Riker had finally noticed her. Was Francis’s scent wearing off, or had he noticed her before but wasn’t saying anything about it because he was trying to stay distant?
She wasn’t trying to interfere in his alone time, but she wanted to see more of this world he was a part of. She still wasn’t used to the idea of men changing into bears, though.
“So it’s only bears in this fight?” she asked Francis, who nodded.
“Well, actually, we have a wolf this year, but I expect he’ll be out soon. He’s had a couple lucky fights against weaker bears, but he’s just not up to the strength level of most bears.”
“So wolves are weaker?”
Francis shook his head. “Not really. It’s more that they can have powers handed down through their packs that make them more powerful, while bears have brute strength. Have you ever seen a bear fight in the wild?”
“Sometimes they shit themselves,” Rock added in helpfully.
“Gross,” she said.
“Luckily, that’s something that doesn’t seem to carry over in shifter matches,” Francis said wryly, ignoring Rock. “Anyway, they’re fast, but it’s hard to go against the sheer force of a bear.”
“Are bears all the same strength?” she asked. “Is it just down to training or something else?”
“No,” Francis said. “It’s like people. Our animals come in all strengths and sizes. No one really knows what makes someone’s inner bear bigger. Some say a purer bloodline. Because shifters have mated with humans as bears have become rarer, some feel pure blood makes for bigger inner bears.” He looked over at Rock. “For instance, I’ve heard the Brolin brothers’ inner bears are absolutely massive.”
Rock just shrugged. “Immaterial.”
“I suppose it would look bad for one of you to enter a Brawl, but I still always expect it. After all, your old man was a great fighter.”
Rock’s face went hard, and he played with the tips of his dark hair. “Hm.” Then he looked up in Riker’s direction and frowned. “You should put some more of your scent on her. I think it’s fading.”
“Riker’s looking,” Francis said hesitantly.
“Better he kills you than me,” Rock said. “Besides, I’m not a fighter.”
“Please,” Ana said. “I don’t want to leave the fight.” It was so nice being out in the fresh air, which smelled so good with trees and flowers and grass all around them.
Francis let out a reluctant sigh. “But isn’t she his woman?”
“He hasn’t claimed her,” Rock said. “In fact, he has stated his intention not to.”
Francis raised an eyebrow and looked at her, intrigued. “Really?”
“Wait,” she said, putting up a hand. “What’s that look for?”
“Well,” Francis said. “I was holding back because I thought you were taken, but—”
“I’m really not looking for anything,” she said, leaning away from him slightly as her eyes darted up at Riker, who was staring over sternly. He turned his attention back to the fight, a
scowl on his face, and she felt disappointment wave through her.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
Francis looked from her to Riker and understood. “I see,” he said. “He’s being stubborn.”
She nodded.
“Let me help you, then,” he said, moving his chair a little closer.
Rock frowned. “Not sure you should do that,” he said as Francis slung a heavy, muscular arm over the back of her camp chair.
She blushed, looking up at him. “How is this going to help?”
“What?” Francis asked innocently. “I’m just disguising your scent. Like any good friend.” He moved his other hand over to rest on her knee, turning into her. His face was close.
“I think that’s enough,” Rock said, looking slightly tense.
Francis sighed and sat back but left his arm around her, allowing one hand to play in her hair. “We’ll see.” He shot a glance up in Riker’s direction.
“His bear really is massive,” Rock said. “Might want to be careful.”
At that, Francis let out a laugh. “You know I like nothing more than a challenge.”
Rock thought about it for a moment and then relaxed in his chair, looking over at Ana. “You sure you’re okay with this? Because fighter or not, I can throw him off that chair if you want me to.”
“Trust me,” Francis said softly. “It’s going to be fine. Let me protect you for now.”
She bristled at that but studied Francis and saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. She relaxed a bit and tried not to be so stiff. So aware Riker could look over at any minute. But Francis was right. He was just protecting her. Just like Riker protected her.
So why did it feel so very different when Riker was by her side? Why did being here only remind her that she missed him, that she wanted him for more than protection. That protection wasn’t enough.
She put her chin in her hand and stared at the fight, waiting for it to be over.
11
Riker narrowed his eyes at the little scene playing out in front of him on the other side of the ring.