Finally A Bride: A Valentine's Day Romance

by Colleen Charles

  Despite my racing heart, I pick up on the serious friend zone I just got shoved into. The very worst place a man can be. A barren no man’s land. As I stare, Hilda paws again, confused by Angelica’s speech. A trickle of sweat cuts a path down my neck to settle in between my shoulder blades. My stomach twists into knots and my finger twitches on the trigger.

  The big bear cocks her head as if she understands every word and the two of them are reaching common ground in the sisterhood of being betrayed by cheaters. If I didn’t see it with my own two eyes, I wouldn’t believe it when Hilda pokes out her big bear snout and shoves it into Angelica’s hand to take whatever morsel that crazy woman used to tempt her with. My palms slick with perspiration, my finger slips off the trigger and I swallow the lump of fear threatening to explode out my dry throat. Then, Hilda’s tongue lolls out and washes Angelica’s palm with moisture.

  “What a good girl, Hilda. You love wild blueberries, don’t you pretty girl? We ladies have to stick together, don’t we? You want to watch over me while I feed the fuzzy foxes?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Angelica

  It’s nearly eleven before I arrive back at the trailer. I hesitate at the door, unwilling to just walk in, but also feeling stupid knocking and dragging a sick man from bed just to ease my discomfort.

  When I rouse the courage to quietly slip inside, I find Knight not only wide awake but in the process of pacing the length of his trailer. In that first instant, I don’t catch a good look at his expression. “Are you okay?”

  “To be honest – I feel like someone swept the rug out from underneath my feet.”

  “Well, that’s to be expected with a fever. Sometimes you can even experience hallucinations.” I slide the feeding supplies onto the counter, then take off my parka and hat.

  “Whatever medicine you gave me must have helped. I don’t feel feverish at all anymore.”

  As if I’d take his word for it. I raise on tiptoe to lay the back of my hand against his forehead. “Hmm… you do feel much cooler. Actually, you feel almost cold. Did you stick your head in the freezer?” I rock back on my heels, trying to study him. He doesn’t look any different than this morning with his wild hairdo and his sexy scruff, but the wicked glint in his eyes seems clear and intense. He looks better sick than most guys do in the peak of health.

  As my gaze drops, I can’t help but notice how his old sweatpants mold to every muscle and sinew of his powerful legs and butt. Damn. How can I possibly be lusting over my friend? My sick friend.

  Because he does unfriendly things with his tongue that are otherworldly.

  The color has snapped back into his cheeks, and his mouth… my pulse races when I look at that full mouth. I stare, wondering why a devilish grin is planted there and when I glance up, his twinkling eyes meet mine. I feel off kilter.

  Completely unsettled.

  He moves past the subject of his health as if it’s nothing. “How did it go?”

  “The kits were great. I can’t believe how much they’ve grown in just a few days. They’re so active. Two of them even made it outside into the sunlight for a brief look at the big world.”

  “You didn’t see Hilda, did you?”

  “God, no.” As the lie falls from my lips, I move toward the sink, thinking I might feed him some of my chicken soup since he seems so much improved. And I’m not about to tell Knight about those terrifying moments when I thought Hilda might eat me instead of the hazelnuts mixed with wild blueberries I brought for her, just in case. He obviously respects my ability to feed the kits or he wouldn’t have asked me to go out into the woods.

  Who are you kidding, Angelica? He only asked you because he had literally no other choice. Regardless, I’m not going to tell him how I almost turned tail and ran like a crazy person, even though everyone knows you never run from a bear.

  “Nothing happened out there to scare you?”

  I flick my wrist. “Scared? Me? No way. Just sit down, will you? I’ll get you some soup. I even made the noodles from scratch… why are you smiling at me?”

  “Maybe because you keep doing things that inspire me to. Homemade noodles?”

  I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about and figure it must be the residuals of his high fever. “Are you sure you’re okay? You almost seem like you’ve taken a hit off a joint.”

  That offhand comment just makes his smile widen. “Nah. Haven’t done that since college. Are you sure there isn’t something you’re not telling me?”

  What can I admit? That a gigantic bear wormed her way into my heart just like she did with his? That I know said bear has the power to hurt me – even kill me and yet I know she won’t? There’s melancholy that I sense inside Hilda and I sense the same thing inside of Knight. A loneliness and a hunger for connection and affection. For someone to care about them as an important role in the way Earth spins around the sun. And no matter how much I want to, I can’t seem to avoid the danger and stay away from either one of them?

  Nah, despite the glaring truth of it, I can’t say one word of that.

  That same instinct makes me pick up my coat right after putting the dishes in the dishwasher. More time alone with Knight is dangerous to my equilibrium. More importantly, to my heart. I think he might already own a sliver of it.

  And I’m not sure why that makes me want to run away as fast as my legs can carry me. But it does and I guess I’m not as brave as I like to think when it comes to being vulnerable. I mean to leave, and my legs carry me as far as the front door, but they stutter to a stop. I already ordered Knight to the sofa with a blanket and a cup of peppermint tea. But every time my hand reaches for the door, he says something to me that politeness requires me to answer – almost like he can’t bear for me to go. As I hover in the entryway, we end up talking about James Patterson, Longmire vs. Justified, how we both love dark roast and how once the kits are off their formula their number one food source will be cottontail rabbits.

  “What happens to the kits now?” I ask. “They’re getting so big. How do you make sure they survive once they have razor sharp teeth?”

  “They’re hungry for more than milk but not quite ready for solid food. Not to be disgusting but if their mom had lived, she’d feed them regurgitated food.”

  My face twists into a grimace. “Birds do that too. I saw it on Netflix.”

  His gaze meets mine. “I’ll just blend raw meat into the mixture until they’re ready and able to hunt on their own. Did you know that Grey Fox are the only fox breed that can climb trees?”

  A little shiver travels up my spine. “Yuck.”

  “It’s just another thing I have to deal with if I want what’s best for the animals I’m here to protect. All part of the job.”

  I open my mouth with another question, but my mind blanks out. I meet Knight’s knowing look. He’s lazed out on the sofa, a throw pillow stuffed behind his head, one arm casually thrown behind him. Something lies within those deep emerald eyes that sets my pulse racing. Hilda studies me the same way. Until she decides I’m not edible.

  With Knight just lying there, I can’t figure out why my emotions are triggered. He’s not doing anything to set my body sizzling with electric charge. My imagination is simply stimulated by the thought of Knight protecting me. Claiming me. I have no doubt if that ever happened, I’d be one hundred and ten percent his. He takes all those archaic values about honor and loyalty to heart.

  But nothing in that runaway train of thought should make me this off kilter, right? Wrong. Every single time I let him occupy my brain, my good sense flees the scene just like my legs should be doing right now.

  “You must be exhausted,” he says from his prone position.

  “Nope. Not at all.”

  “Are you some kind of energizer bunny? You worked last night at Cool Beans and then I asked you to get up early to feed the kits. And then you were with them for most of the morning.”

  “It was nothing really. That’s what friends are for.”
<
br />   Before I know it, I’m curled up into his recliner with my legs tucked underneath me, my parka firmly back on the oak coat tree. My eyes track him as he rises from the sofa and tosses the blanket over the overstuffed arm. Another jolt of sensual lightning drags through the air and lands at my core, sending heat straight through me.

  My mind takes flight again – but I bring it straight back down to solid ground. When Knight picks a woman to claim, it will be the smartest, prettiest woman in the room. With the best body. Always that.

  Never me.

  Farm fed. Robust. Husky. Rubenesque.

  Just plain fat.

  If he chose me, I would be the safe choice. And because of that, I won’t let him. No matter how exciting our electric connection might be.

  I live in the real world, not fantasyland.

  I won’t be his mercy fuck.

  “You’re right,” he says. “Friends help each other. But that doesn’t mean I don’t owe you.”

  I flick a wrist. “You don’t owe me a thing. I was happy to help.”

  Apparently, he doesn’t believe me, because his eyes blaze fire. Before I can inhale my next ragged breath, he looms over me, setting his massive hands on the arms of the recliner and looming over me.

  A whisper away.

  Maybe more like a heartbeat.

  He leans in and captures my lips. Knight’s are warm and supple, moving gently over mine in an intimate exploration. It’s only a brush of a kiss like the thank you he seems to want to force on me, no giving or taking, only the barest of sensations.

  A clock ticks somewhere, but it sounds like an echo through a canyon to my overactive senses. Rays of sunlight shine through the windows, highlighting the thickness and shine of his hair. My lips cling to his as if I can’t imagine going another second without drinking him in as my hands twine around his neck.

  I can’t not touch him.

  I don’t even care if I get sick from kissing the sick person.

  I’ve sampled this flavor of passion before. Alpha male with a side of heartbreak. And one of these days he’s bound to find out the real me – the boring one that remains after he unwraps the present. It’s like getting batteries for Christmas without the toy. And he’s not going to want plain old Angelica, but that doesn’t stop me from yearning to keep up my façade a little bit longer. Isn’t that the reason I came to Sweetheart Hills anyway – to reinvent myself?

  He releases my lips only to say in a husky whisper, “I never expected to have a female… friend.”

  My breath escapes in tiny pants. “Isn’t Hilda your friend? And your sister?”

  He chuckles. “I suppose so. And it’s never been easy for me to ask anyone for help either. I’m used to doing things myself.”

  “I’m pretty independent too.”

  “I know.” His grin comes slow and easy, just as slowly as the strand of hair he tucks back behind my ear. “We’re more alike than we are different, Angelica. Us stubborn independent types need to stick together.”

  Later, on the drive home, that conversation loops through my brain on repeat. I seem to have agreed to something important – epic probably. That we’re friends? That we share common values? That we can count on each other if we get in a jam?

  In my driveway, I cut the engine and press my fingertips to my temples trying to ward away the headache I feel coming on. I don’t know why I’m so frazzled. I want Knight to be able to count on me. I want to actually be the woman he sees when he looks at me.

  What I don’t want to do is make an ass out of myself again. Dravon’s betrayal taught me how susceptible I am to the illusion of love. My self-respect plummeted to the cold, hard earth after that one, and I’m still in the process of gaining it back.

  Could I let Knight help me with that? Does he even want to?

  Maybe so and maybe not. But what I can’t do is to confuse lust with love.

  Chapter Twelve

  Knight

  “I should have left you behind.”

  She clucks her tongue. “We have to do something about your pissy moods lately, Evermore. You can’t tell a woman what to do. Well, I suppose you could try, but you shouldn’t.”

  I only stop walking long enough to pluck the pom pom on the top of her bright yellow stocking hat. Not that I don’t like the way she teases me. I do like it. Probably more than I should.

  I fake scowl like a dark thundercloud. “Nah, I should have left you behind. For reals. You’re already wet and cold. If I had any common sense, I would have left you in front of the fire where I could be sure you were safe.”

  “You could have tried, but I wouldn’t have listened. I’m a big girl. I can handle a little cold.” She sticks that luscious heart-shaped ass out and slaps it while I try not to stare. “And I have some extra padding to protect me.”

  My hands move to span her waist and squeeze. “You’re sassy, you know that? I think you’re the only woman I’ve ever let give me so much lip.”

  She puckers those full lips and blows me a kiss. “Because I have great lips. I wanted to come? Remember? I volunteered. You think I wanted to stay behind and miss out on all the excitement? I have serious FOMO. I hope that’s not a deal breaker for our friendship.”

  If she calls me her friend one more time to put a verbal wall between us, I’m going to growl into the crisp air like Hilda waking up from her long winter’s nap.

  “I probably have a little case of FOMO myself what with living out in the wilderness most of the time. The world passes me by, and I don’t even know it. But then again, in order to miss out, there has to be something worth missing.”

  I roll my eyes, but then a chuckle escapes. I give her upper arm an affectionate squeeze as we soldier on through the snow. A week ago, the whole countryside was a fairyland of emerald pines and glittering snow. Every day the forest was a delicious fresh wonderland to explore. But sometimes the Minnesota weather surprises us, even this far north. We’re experiencing an unexpected but not unwelcome warm spell and instead of snow, the sky is vomiting up some annoying drizzle. The snow is melting in dirty gray chunks, leaving slippery earth underneath.

  Treacherous really.

  Which only draws out my protective instincts even more.

  Mine.

  That word swirls around my head, refusing to land. Because it knows its permanent residence is in my heart.

  I didn’t ask Angelica for help, so she could have stayed by the warm fire I keep referring to. But she tagged along anyway, which just takes the feelings I’ve caught for her and winds them through my limbs until they blaze fire. She already hit the deck twice, despite my best efforts to stop it like almost dislocating her arm. She just giggled and got up again, the seat of her jeans a muddy mess along with her mittens. The mud is so thick it sucks at our boots and threatens our stability with every step.

  Despite her easy manner and infectious giggles, she’s locked herself up, when all I want is for her to show me everything she’s got. But kisses or closeness isn’t a worry in this fucked up situation. More like broken bones and an airlift to the nearest level one trauma center. Without snow, my sled is worthless, and I would have had to backpack in all the supplies if Angelica hadn’t volunteered to help me.

  Once we reach the valley, I scan the crest of the ridge for Hilda.

  “Where is she?” Angelica asks, her forehead creased into ridges of worry over the big bear.

  “Hopefully sleeping, or at least trying to. But with this warm weather, I doubt it. Her circadian rhythms are fifty shades of messed up.”

  The kits wait for us outside the den. The adorable foxes have turned into brats. None of them have a sliver of patience, wanting what they want exactly when they want it and not settling for one second slower. Even though they’re still unsteady and clumsy, they’ve discovered roughhousing and tormenting their littermates. Their silky fur is littered with mud and debris.

  “They’re already starting to determine a pecking order,” I say.

  When she
shakes her head, her pom poms wiggle. “Nah, that has nothing to do with foxes, it’s a penis thing.”

  My eyes narrow. “A penis thing?”

  “Yeah, like if you have a penis, you like to roll around in the dirt.”

  I gesture toward her mud-caked clothing. “Seems rolling around in the dirt must be a vagina thing too.”

  That halo of silky hair swirls around her shoulders. “Nope. That’s different. If I could stay clean, I would. You on the other hand like getting dirty. Don’t even try to deny it.”

  I really can’t because I wouldn’t do this job if I had any real desire to keep my hands clean and my fingernails perfectly manicured. That would be impossible in this line of work. I also don’t deny how good it feels to be here with her bantering like a couple. Even though I’ve marked her as mine just like if I whipped out my ‘penis thing’ and pissed on her leg, she’s not there yet.

  And I have to respect that.

  A trickle of alarm bumps up my heart rate. If she’s around, Hilda usually always greets me at the edge of the forest. Angelica has her head down as she spoon pours the last of the formula down the hatches of the kits. Once she untangles herself from their furry bodies, I’ve already crouched down several yards away, my ears peeled and my heart flipping over.

  “Can you stay here with them for a few minutes?” I ask, standing back up.

  Her forehead creases. “What’s wrong, Knight?”

  “Nothing. At least I don’t think so. I just want to check something out. I won’t go far.”

  Damn stubborn woman doesn’t listen to me and trails along behind me. I stop at the first slushy mound of melting snow that I find and that’s when my stomach clenches. Drops of dark red blood dot the area.

  Angelica pants a few lungfuls of breath as she catches up to me. I climb the ridge with my long legs, and she can’t maintain the same stride. Once she reaches the top, I stutter to a stop.

  With the back of my hand, I wipe the matted rain from my face, but my eyes pin her. “You’re not coming with me, Angelica. Turn around. Now.”

  “No can do.”