Page 5 of Bear Naked Truth
He hesitated. He hadn’t meant to bring it up today—not this soon. But the moment felt cracked open just enough.
“Well,” he said slowly, “there’s been… some interest in the inn.”
She gave him a dry look. “Supernatural interest?”
He nodded. “Vampires. Real estate witches. One shifter couple who wanted to turn it into a ‘scent therapy retreat.’ They’re circling.”
“And you don’t want to sell?”
“I didn’t survive a forest fire, a bureaucratic nightmare, and six months with a possessed plumbing system just to hand this place over to people who think moonstone tile is ‘rustic.’ No offense to moonstone.”
Her mouth twitched. “None taken.”
He shifted, bracing his hands on the couch’s backrest. “But the problem is, I’m single. Unmated. And around here, that’s… a vulnerability. Makes people think I don’t have roots. That I’m movable.”
“And?”
“And I might have told a few folks that I was taken.”
She raised an eyebrow, not quite following.
He let out a breath. “And I might’ve told them that the woman staying here—the incredibly gifted, sharp-tongued ghost whisperer—was my mate.”
She blinked. Then blinked again.
“You did not.”
“I did.”
She stared at him. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Probably,” he said cheerfully. “But hear me out. It’s temporary. A little public hand-holding, some strategic sightings. You don’t even have to fake smile unless you want to. I just need the town to back off for a while.”
She shook her head, muttering, “You bear shifters are ridiculous.”
His grin widened. “That sounds like a maybe.”
“That sounds like a this better come with hazard pay.”
“It’ll come with free coffee, a private room, and my undying gratitude.And I stipend as well, I promise.”
Autumn sighed. “Why do I get the feeling that this house isn’t the only one with unfinished business?”
He didn’t answer.
But when she walked past him again, mug now empty, hair swaying slightly, he couldn’t help but watch her go. There was something about her. Something more than her magic, more than her eyes and it made his bear pace. Something that made him think this wasn’t going to be fake for long.
Not for him.
3
AUTUMN
Autumn paced the length of her room like the floorboards had personally offended her. She had slept decently the first night there, but still, her mind had been busy and given her complicated dreams.
The scent of lavender clung to the air like a polite ghost—persistent, a little invasive, and probably enchanted by some old woman with a fondness for charm bags and passive-aggressive energy. Her boots thudded softly on the wood, rhythm matching the mental war she’d been waging since Dorian’s ridiculous, yet annoyingly well-timed, proposal.
Mate. He’d saidmate.Like that wasn’t a word loaded with every kind of implication a supernatural woman might want to avoid. She could barely commit to a favorite coffee order. And now she was supposed to fake-date a bear shifter with eyes like honey and shoulders built for sin?
