Wolves, Witches and Bears...Oh My!

by Nicky Charles

  Perhaps that was why something had never seemed right about Lucy’s death. He’d visited the cemetery after her burial and there’d been no scent of her anywhere.

  She is not dead. His bear had shaken its head, denying the visual evidence of a head stone, the write up in the newspaper and even the recount of events Melody and Ryne had shared.

  “As much as it hurts, we can’t change the facts.” He’d knelt on one knee, setting down the bouquet of wildflowers he’d picked. Rather than standing again, he’d traced over her name and date of death. She’d been so young…

  There is something wrong with this. The bear had been insistent, snuffling the grave.

  He’d not listened to the creature, too caught up in his own grief. Instead, he’d gone into the woods to mourn and to help his bear reconcile to the sad turn of events. It had never completely believed him. Now he knew why. The bear was wiser than he.

  Yes, he’d find Lucy’s home and encourage her to talk to him. He was a good listener, a natural skill for a bear, and one that helped him in his job at the bar. People often spilled their hearts to him, knowing he’d give solid feedback. Once she had explained her reasoning, he would forgive her, counter her logic and back it up with his actions. Then she would see they were meant to be together.

  His musing came to a halt when he arrived at her building. It was one of several just like it on the street, plain brick, with a metal fire escape mounted to the exterior. He opened the door and entered the building finding himself in a foyer with stairs directly in front of him, mailboxes to the left and an apartment on the right. The door to the apartment was partially open, the sound of a TV show and snoring drifting into the foyer along with the scent of beer. If the person inside was the doorman, he was failing miserably. With a final look around, he headed for the stairs.

  What would Lucy say when she opened the door and saw him?

  He contemplated the question as he climbed the numerous flights, his bear pacing anxiously as her scent grew increasingly clear. A short hallway led to her apartment and there he hesitated.

  There is someone else in the apartment, the scent is distinctly female.

  An audience would make things awkward. He’d not factored in such a possibility.

  No more waiting.

  Right. Giving a nod, he knocked on the door only to wince as he realized the panel was not the usual solid wood he was used to. It sounded like he was trying to pound the door down.

  He heard footsteps, sensed someone looking at him through the peephole followed by the sound of locks being worked. Finally, the door opened and a dark-haired young woman greeted him.

  “You must be no one.” She grinned up at him.

  He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  She didn’t explain herself, instead looking him up and down, a grin slowly widening her mouth.

  Not knowing how to respond to her puzzling statement, he simply said, “I’m Armand St. John. I’m here to see Lucy.”

  “Lucy?” Her gaze returned to his face. “Oh, you mean Lulu.”

  “Er…yes.” He frowned. Lucy, Louise and now Lulu? How many names did she have?

  “Well, damn! Ain’t she the lucky one? And it’s not even her birthday.” She leaned against the door jamb, her body blocking the entrance and, crossing her arms, she gave him another once over. “I’m Roxi.” The statement was punctuated by an annoying cracking sound.

  “Pleased to meet you, Roxi.”

  “You have a bit of an accent. French?”

  He nodded. “Oui, I spent my younger years in Québec.”

  “Cool.”

  “Lucy?” He prompted, peering over her shoulder and searching what he could see of the apartment. “I know she lives here. I’d like to speak with her.”

  “Yeah, I know. She warned me. Wait here. Last I heard she wasn’t feeling well.” She pushed off from the wall and disappeared into the apartment.

  He decided to follow, recalling how Lucy had managed to disappear from the diner. From the rear of the apartment, he could hear Roxi speaking.

  “Hey Lulu, no one is here to see you.”

  Chapter 7

  Lou hugged her pillow to her chest when she heard pounding on the door. It could be someone trying to break-in and, childishly, she crossed her fingers hoping it was; however, she wasn’t going to be that lucky. She knew it was Armand. And, even though she’d told Roxi to send him away, it was expecting a lot to think her roommate would follow through.

  Half of her hoped he would leave and head back to Stump River.

  Another part of her hoped he wouldn’t.

  Ever since she’d started working for him all those years ago, she’d been attracted to him. Tall, strong, calm and steady, she felt safe and protected around him. And he listened to her rather than just staring at her boobs. In fact, he never responded to her flirting, instead softly laughing and shaking his head before replying in his softly accented tones…

  ~~~

  “You’re between men, Lucy.”

  “I like you, Armand.” She leaned against his arm and playfully batted her lashes at him.

  He gave her a half-smile. “You’re like a butterfly moving from flower to flower.”

  “Only until I find the right one.”

  “And how will you know when you do?”

  “I—” She furrowed her brow, not sure how to explain. It would be like she felt around him. Did that mean he was the one? She’d like to explore the possibility except he always brushed her off in the politest possible way.

  ~~~

  Over time she’d come to realize he viewed her only as a friend. Or so she’d believed until their one and only kiss.

  It had been as she was leaving for her impromptu vacation to Chicago. He’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her until her toes had curled. She’d clung to him mindlessly, loving the feel of his powerful arms around her, the faint scratch of his beard, the masterful way he’d threaded his fingers through her hair and angled her head to suit him. It had been heaven and then…he’d let her go.

  Why hadn’t he asked her to stay? Why had he let her walk away? And why was he here now?

  Probably because Ryne had sent him, dammit.

  She nodded in agreement. Armand had a great sense of duty.

  Roxi spoke outside her room, laughter lacing her voice. “Hey Lulu, no one is here to see you.”

  “Tell him I’m sick.” It was a vain attempt, she knew it.

  “Yeah, well I don’t think he cares.”

  “Fine. Tell him I’ll be out in a minute.” She sighed and tossed her pillow aside then donned her glasses. Her reflection in the mirror across the room caught her attention. The scar seemed to show up more than ever and her hair was a mess. Finger-combing the locks into place she debated about changing out of the ragged t-shirt and shorts she’d put on then shrugged. This was who she was now. If Armand didn’t like it, too bad.

  Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door to find Roxi grinning at her and Armand standing a few feet behind, arms folded and brows lowered.

  “Hello Lucy.”

  “Armand.”

  He looked the same…mostly. His beard was shorter and his hair was neatly tied back. The look suited him. When she finally met his gaze, he was staring at her, his face expressionless. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, finally glancing away as if the view out the window held her interest. It showed the fire escape and for one insane moment she considered bolting towards it and running away. He’d catch her, of course. Armand could move quickly despite his size. How many times had she seen him fluidly swing over the bar and plant himself between two brawlers before she could even open her mouth and call for help?

  Roxi cleared her throat. “I can tell you two chatterboxes aren’t going to let me get a word in edgewise so I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Roxi—" Before she could finish her request, her roommate was heading down the hall towards the door.

  “Call if you need me.” Rox
i waggled her fingers, snagged her purse and left.

  As the door to the apartment shut, she worried her lip nervously and then gestured awkwardly towards the living room. “Why don’t we sit down?”

  Armand nodded and walked to the sitting area, choosing a spot on the sofa. She perched on the edge of a nearby chair and clasped her hands in her lap. He was examining the room and she wondered what he was thinking. The dark blue slip covers made the second-hand sofa and chairs look pretty good and the end tables were nicely polished. Of course, given the décor of the Broken Antler, he probably thought this was a palace.

  He hadn’t spoken since saying hello. She cleared her throat. “How have you been?”

  “Alive. Unlike you.” There was no smile on his face as he swung his gaze her way. His eyes bored into hers, darkly accusing. “You’re dead. Or so I was led to believe.”

  “Um…about that. I…I’m sorry.” She nervously reached up and touched the scar.

  “For what? That Ryne told me? Or that I found you?” He was giving her no quarter, his questions cutting to the very heart.

  “I’m sorry I deceived you. I...” She took a deep breath. “It wasn’t planned. You know I’d been talking about moving for a while. Something happened while I was here—”

  “You were attacked. You almost died.”

  “Yes. I was in shock, scared…”

  “Then you should have come home where your friends would have taken care of you.”

  He’d said friends would take care of her rather than saying he would be the one. That hurt more than it should but at least she knew where she stood. She swallowed down her emotion. “You think I should have gone back to my old life.”

  “Yes.” He gave an emphatic nod.

  “But then things would never have changed.”

  “Changed?”

  She gave a sad smile. “Armand, my old life had nothing for me.”

  “You had friends, an apartment, a job, two in fact.” He enumerated the points on his fingers. “That’s not nothing. It’s a great deal.”

  “Yes. You’re right. I did.” She stared down at her hands, her fingers twisting nervously. “But there was no real future for me there.”

  He cocked his head, frowning. “Future? I’m not sure what you mean?”

  “I…” She wasn’t sure how to explain without revealing her feelings for him. Feelings he didn’t return. Finally, she gave up and shook her head. “Why are you here, Armand?”

  “Ryne told me someone is bothering you. I came to make sure you’re safe.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She pressed her lips tightly together. “Ryne had no right. I told him I was fine. It was just a mugging.”

  “He shared what you said to him.” Armand folded his arms. “We both agreed it would be best to check on you.”

  “You both agreed? Don’t I have a say in this?”

  “We’re friends and friends watch out for each other.” He leaned back in the sofa, his chin firmly set as if that was the end of things.

  “Armand, I’m a grown woman—”

  “A beautiful woman on her own.”

  Beautiful? She used to be. It seemed ages since she’d heard that word. Not that it mattered, of course. She’d come to realize she had value beyond her outward appearance. Lacing her fingers together, she resisted the urge to touch her scar again. To distract herself she concentrated on his ‘woman on her own’ comment.

  “I can take care of myself.” She had, in fact, been on her own for most of her life as he well knew. Her mother had loved her but hadn’t been the maternal sort, barely capable of managing her own life.

  He didn’t reply, damn him. Armand could be old-fashioned at times and very stubborn.

  She rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly. “Okay. You’re here. You can see that I’m fine. Mission accomplished. Now you can go on your way.”

  “No.” He looked away, a muscle working in his jaw before he swung his gaze back to her. “I want to know why you didn’t return. You said you had no future in Stump River yet, before you left, I kissed you.”

  In shock, she stared at him. She hadn’t expected him to bring that up. “Yes, you did.”

  “My interest in you didn’t matter?” He sat up straight.

  “Your interest in me?” She blinked. Hadn’t he placed her in the friend category a minute ago?

  His accent thickened. “For years you teased me, yet when I… How do you say?... succumbed—”

  “Succumbed? It was one kiss! A damned good kiss mind you but—”

  He scowled. “I was finally showing my intentions.”

  Finally? That word caught her attention. “You’re right about one thing at least. It was finally. After years of you pushing me away, you expected me to come running back just because you finally decided to kiss me? Out of the blue I might add, with no explanation either before or after.”

  “I—”

  “You asked me what I meant about having no future in Stump River and that’s exactly what I was talking about!” She rose to her feet and glared down at him. “I waited for you, but you never showed a bit of interest. The way things were going I’d spend the rest of my life alone if I stayed. I was tired of waiting for you.”

  He stood up. “And I was tired of waiting for you to decide.”

  “Decide what?”

  “If you were ready to settle down or if you would keep chasing your pretty boys.”

  “Settle down?” She felt her mouth drop open and quickly snapped it shut.

  He looked away and shrugged.

  “Why would you assume that I wouldn’t want to settle down? All I was waiting for was the right man to ask me.”

  “And you felt I was the right man? It didn’t seem that way to me.”

  “Armand St. John, are you as thick as a brick?” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “I tried to hit on you more times than I can remember.”

  “I wanted you to be sure, to be willing to make a commitment.”

  “And how was I supposed to be sure, if I never even got a sample?”

  “Sometimes you need to trust your choice without sampling.”

  “Like a piece of pie on the counter at Ruth’s diner?” She rolled her eyes.

  He crossed his arms and scowled. “I’ve never regretted my choices at the diner, yet I don’t go around poking my finger in each baked good to taste it.”

  “Yes, well, we’re not pieces of dessert.”

  “Our kiss was as sweet as one.”

  The rough poetry of his words caught her off guard and she wasn’t sure what to say.

  “While you were gone…supposedly dead…I did a great deal of thinking. I came to realize my strategy was flawed. Now that I have a second chance, I’ll try something new.”

  “Something new?”

  “Yes.” He walked towards her.

  The look in his eye made her nervous. She began to back up, suddenly very aware of how big he was and the fact that they were alone in the apartment.

  Armand kept advancing, stalking her until her back was pressed against the wall. “I want you, Lucy. I’ve wanted you for a very long time.” He reached out and cupped her face in his palms, his fingers curling around towards her neck and then into her hair so she couldn’t move.

  She stared up at him, her heart pounding as he studied her, his thumb teasing her lower lip. When he slowly dipped his head, her mouth seemed to go dry. His lips touched hers. Teasing. Testing. Tingles of awareness spread through her and she gasped, opening to him. He accepted her invitation, delving into her warmth, kissing her deeply.

  Her arms slid around him, pulling him closer. It had been so long since she’d kissed him, kissed anyone for that matter. She trailed her hands over his broad back loving the feel of him, the taste of him, the sensations he was arousing.

  Holding nothing back, she responded as she’d always longed to do; years of waiting and wanting had her straining closer, urging him onward.

  “Armand…” She bre
athed his name against his neck and lightly raked her teeth over his flesh, enjoying the saltiness of his skin.

  He shuddered in response, his grip on her tightened and then he was releasing her and stepping away.

  “If you had returned, that is what you would have had waiting for you.” He was breathing hard, his words coming out as a deep rumble.

  She blinked up at him, trying to process what he was saying.

  “Think about it. I’ll return in three hours to take you to dinner.” He turned and let himself out of the apartment, not waiting for her reply.

  As the door clicked shut behind him, she slowly reached up and touched her lips, dazed by the intensity of the passion between them. He’d felt it just as she had, his body had declared its response in an undeniable way and yet, after getting her all hot and bothered, he’d left. Payback for her not returning to Stump River?

  No. Armand wasn’t like that.

  Or at least he never used to be.

  Somewhere in Chicago…

  “Well?”

  “It was there, just like you said it would be.” A confirming nod was given.

  “Good. Hand it over and I’ll make the delivery.”

  Lips tightened. “I don’t have it.”

  “What? That was the whole reason for—”

  “I know what I was supposed to do but—”

  “Then why the hell didn’t you do your job?”

  “If you’d shut the fuck up, I’d tell you.”

  The statement was met with an angry glare then silence before arms were folded and a reply was given in clipped tones. “Fine. Tell me. I’m listening.”

  “I was being watched.”

  “So? You should’ve grabbed it and run. We don’t have time to waste, you know.”

  “If you don’t like how I operate then maybe you should be the one to get it back.”

  There was no response. Just a tightening of lips and narrowed eyes while fingers drummed on the table.