Page 17 of Unbearable Attraction
LUKA
Luka had left Leenah's cottage the night before with her hand still warm in his memory. They'd managed to drink their coffee and discuss search strategies for the ceremony grounds, but the conversation had felt secondary to the weight of what had almost happened in her kitchen.
The way she'd looked at him when he'd tended to her cut, as if she were seeing him differently, like maybe her walls weren't as impenetrable as she wanted everyone to believe, had stayed with him through the long walk back to his workshop. So had the reluctant gratitude in her voice when she'd thanked him for staying, the admission that she didn't really want to be alone after Aiyana's urgent warning.
Now, three hours past midnight, sleep remained as elusive as smoke.
Luka's hands moved automatically across the piece of blessed oak, his grandfather's carving tools shaping the wood with practiced precision despite his mind being elsewhere entirely. The protective charm was taking form under his fingers. Traditional bear clan symbols interwoven with thekind of warding marks his family had used for generations to safeguard what mattered most.
Not that he was planning to tell Leenah what the charm was really for. She'd probably throw it back at him and lecture him about unwanted protection, all while missing the point.
His bear was loud about his approval of that line of thinking, the animal half of his nature having made its decision about Leenah Carrow with embarrassing clarity.Mate, his shifter instincts whispered every time she was near.Claim. Protect. Keep safe.
The human side of his nature was putting up more resistance, pointing out all the logical reasons why falling for Hollow Oak's most independent resident was a monumentally bad idea. She'd made it clear that she valued her solitude, that depending on others had brought her nothing but disappointment in the past. Getting involved with him would only complicate her life in ways she didn't need or want.
But logic had never been much of a match for the growing certainty that Leenah belonged with him, that the fierce necromancer who faced down ancient spirits without flinching was exactly the kind of woman his bear had been waiting for.
The protective charm took shape beneath his hands—a small oak medallion carved with interlocking symbols that would help shield the wearer from supernatural influence. Not enough to interfere with her necromantic abilities, but sufficient to provide some buffer against the kind of spiritual pressure that had been building around her cottage.
He'd have to find a way to give it to her without making it seem like he thought she couldn't handle herself. Maybe frame it as a research tool, something that would help her communicate with spirits without being overwhelmed by their collective need. She might accept that reasoning.
Or she might see right through his motives and tell him exactly what he could do with his charm.
Dawn light worked its way through his workshop windows by the time he finished the carving, painting the oak shavings at his feet in shades of gold and amber. His bear had finally settled into something resembling contentment, satisfied that they'd done something productive to ensure their mate's safety.
The thought of coffee drew him toward town, though he was honest enough with himself to admit that caffeine wasn't the only reason he wanted to visit The Griddle & Grind. If he happened to pick up breakfast pastries while he was there, and if those pastries happened to be the perfect excuse to check on Leenah after her spiritually eventful evening, well, that was just good neighborly behavior.
Twyla was already bustling around the café when he arrived, her fae-enhanced energy making her seem bright and alert despite the early hour. She took one look at his face and immediately began assembling what looked like enough breakfast for a small army.
"Let me guess," she said with that knowing smile that made most people nervous, "someone had a long night and wants to make sure a certain ghost tour guide starts her day properly fed?"
"I was just getting coffee," Luka protested, though he didn't stop her from adding another cinnamon roll to the growing collection of pastries.
"Of course you were, honey." Twyla's tone suggested she was humoring him. "And I'm sure it's pure coincidence that you're here at dawn buying enough breakfast for two people."
"Maybe I'm hungry."
"Maybe you're smitten." She handed him a cardboard carrier loaded with coffee cups and a paper bag that smelled like heaven. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. Leenahcould use someone who cares about her wellbeing, and you could use someone who challenges that protective streak of yours."
Heat crept up Luka's neck. "It's not like that."
"Mmm-hmm." Twyla's expression suggested she'd heard that particular denial before. "Well, when it does become 'like that,' you make sure to treat her right. That girl's been hurt enough by people who didn't appreciate what they had."
The idea of anyone hurting Leenah, of taking her fierce independence and sharp intelligence for granted, made Lujka’s bear snarl with territorial fury. Whatever had happened to her in the past, whoever had taught her that depending on others only led to disappointment, they'd clearly done lasting damage.
"I'm not planning to hurt her," he said quietly.
"No, I don't think you are." Twyla's voice had lost its teasing edge, becoming serious in a way that reminded him she was far older and wiser than her youthful appearance suggested. "But be patient with her, Luka. Trust doesn't come easy to someone who's learned to expect abandonment."
He left the café with Twyla's words echoing in his mind and his hands full of excuses to see Leenah again. The protective charm sat heavy in his jacket pocket, carved wood warming against his body as he made his way through Hollow Oak's quiet morning streets.
Her cottage looked peaceful in the early light, no sign of the supernatural activity that had surrounded it the night before. Smoke rose from the chimney, suggesting she was awake despite the early hour. Probably hadn't slept any better than he had, if her pattern of throwing herself into research when stressed held true.
Luka knocked softly, not wanting to startle her if she was deep in concentration. Footsteps approached the door, followed by the sound of multiple locks being disengaged. When the doorfinally opened, Leenah appeared wearing an oversized sweater that made her look younger and more vulnerable than usual, her dark hair mussed from sleep or worry.
"Luka?" She blinked at him in surprise, her blue eyes still slightly unfocused. "What are you doing here so early?"
"Brought breakfast," he said, holding up the paper bag. "Figured you might not have eaten much after last night."
