Page 6 of Bear Naked Truth
Her reflection in the old mirror frowned back at her, violet-blue eyes tired, mouth set in a stubborn line. She looked like someone who didn’t do small talk or spontaneous decisions.
“Three weeks,” she muttered. “Just three weeks, cleanse the house, play pretend, take the money, leave.”
It was the paycheck that was pushing her toward yes. The inn needed real work, and Dorian—sunshine incarnate in flannel—had a way of making his chaos sound like a plan.
But there was something else. Something harder to name.
Curiosity.
There was a story buried in this house. In Dorian, too. She could feel it, coiled tight beneath the easy smiles and warm mugs of coffee. And Autumn, for all her introverted edge, had always been a sucker for untold stories.
She grabbed her notebook, clipped a charm to her belt loop—one carved from red jasper to absorb spiritual agitation—and headed downstairs.
The house didn’t creak when she moved through it. Not like it had when she first arrived. That was either a good sign… or a very, very bad one.
She found Dorian in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up again, arms dusted with flour, and a slightly scorched baking sheet on the counter.
“Is that… bread?” she asked, eyeing the dough ball with a suspicious lean.
“Supposed to be,” he said, glancing up with that disarming grin that made her stomach dip. “Might end up as a weapon if it doesn’t cooperate.”
Autumn smirked despite herself. “If this inn thing falls through, you’ve got a future in shifter-proofing.”
He chuckled and wiped his hands on a towel. “You sleep okay?”
She shrugged, noncommittal. “The bed didn’t eat me, so we’ll call it a win.”
“I’ll take it.” He leaned against the counter, drying his hands slowly. “Thought about my offer?”
She hesitated. “I did.”
“And?”
Another breath, then she crossed her arms. “Here’s the deal. I don’t do drama. I don’t do clingy. And I sure as hell don’t do real feelings.”
His eyes crinkled at the edges. “Got it. Strictly fake feelings only.”
“I’m serious, Dorian. This is just for show. The second this house is cleared, I’m gone. We don’t blur lines.”
He gave a solemn nod, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “No lines blurred. Scout’s honor.”
“You weren’t a scout.”
“Nope,” he said, “but I was a ranger. That’s gotta count for something.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it. But you owe me hazard pay and at least three favors.”
“What kind of favors?”
“I’ll let you know when I think of them.”
He grinned like he’d just won a bet. “Deal.”
Autumn grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter, peeled it, and leaned against the fridge. “We’ll start slow. Casual touch here and there. No pet names.”
His mouth twitched. “I was gonna call you sugar blossom.”
She pointed her banana at him. “You try it, I walk.”
