Page 14 of Off-Limits to the Grizzly

Then she bursts into tears.

I don’t stop to think. I dart over to her. Crash down on the floor on my knees and pull her tiny body into my arms.

And she clings to me.

She holds me tight, like she’s drowning and I’m a life raft.

The feel of her is incredible. So soft and petite and curvy. Her hair is like silk, and I can feel her eyelashes fluttering on my neck.

Hell, if this girl wants to use me as a life raft, I’m all in.

“It’s okay, honey.” I whisper reassuring words into her ear, rubbing her back in circles, easing her pain away.

Little by little, her sobbing eases.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry.” She draws back and wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. “After all you’ve done for me.”

“That’s the least I’d do for you,” I say. That’s way too much to tell her, but I don’t care anymore.

Now Blair has been in my arms, I know, more than ever that she’s the one. There’s never been any other. I’ve been looking for her all my life, and heaven knows I’ve made some mistakes along the way. But this is right. This is the real thing. My bear swells beneath my skin, burning to claim her.

Confusion flickers in her golden irises. Questions hang on her beautiful lips.

I don’t want to scare her off.

“Mr Johnson?”

My breath shudders in my chest. There’s something so darn sexy and wrong about her calling me Mr Johnson all the time. “Uh huh?”

“You’re, like, shaking. Are you cold?”

I choke back a purr. She can feel my muscles trembling, feel the effort it’s costing me not to drag her mouth to mine and plunge my tongue in deep. Not to tear off her clothes and explore her sweet body for the first time.

I take a deep breath. This is not the time for subterfuge. “No, I’m not cold, Blair.”

5

Blair

Istare at the wooden front door for a long, long time. I guess I upset Mr Johnson. Seemed like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

He looked like he was about to tell me something—something important. But then he sprung to his feet in that quick way of his, and said he was gonna get some rest, and he’d see me in the morning.

But he lives here? Unless I’m real confused, this is his home now.

I didn’t even get a chance to ask him where he was planning to sleep, before he stormed out into the dark night.

Was it something I said? I replay our conversation, trying to remember.

He was like that when I was a teen, too. He’d be real kind, but then he’d suddenly get all hostile and want me out of his sight. It was so confusing.

What a crazy intense evening. My pulse is still fast and jumpy. Being around him makes me so nervous, I was almost glad when he left. But now he’s gone, all I can think about is how much I want to see him again.

The feeling of his arms around me.... butterflies fluttered in my stomach and my skin tingled all over.

When I was little, he used to carry me on his massive shoulders and I felt so safe with him.

But now… his touch is exciting.

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