Page 23 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
“Oh, they’re all over here now.” I open a cabinet near the sink. “I grouped them with the other dishes since...”
He finds it, the one that’s clearly special, shoved in with the regular mugs.
It saysAlways be yourself. Unless you can be a bear. Then always be a bear.There’s a picture of a grizzly on it.
Obviously it’s extremely valuable.
When I roll my eyes, the muscle in his jaw ticks as he pours coffee with controlled movements.
“I can put it all back,” I offer. “Sorry, I was just trying to help. I couldn’t sleep anymore, and I needed something to do to keep my mind busy.”
He turns to really look at me then. I must look pathetic, standing here in his kitchen, with flour on my shirt and shadows under my eyes that probably match his. He looks me up and down as my belly grumbles, empty after skipping dinner last night.
“It’s fine.” He forces the words out, like that cost him a lot to say. I give him a grateful smile. He hates it, but he’s being nice. I at least appreciate the gesture.
Without asking what I want, he makes me a plate and adds extra eggs.
“Thank you,” I murmur, sinking into a chair.
We eat in silence. My ribs protest when I shift, but sitting still feels impossible when nervous energy courses through me like electricity.
“I really was trying to help,” I say finally, pushing eggs around my plate. “I’m used to being busy…”
“This is good.” His full lips pull into a smile, and it’s the first time I’ve seen his face light up like that. And it’s breathtaking.
My crush ratchets up another level at the sight of the big man enjoying my food so much.
“But you don’t need to earn your keep.” He leans back in his chair and lifts his mug of coffee to his lips. “Rest. Get some fresh air and be out in nature. You might enjoy it more than you think.”
The view outside is spectacular. There’s no denying it. And every time I look out over the vast expanse of mountains and trees, a sense of calm washes over me.
But it’s always quickly followed by a nagging feeling that I should be doing something else. And guilt. That I’m having a wilderness mini break, while Amber is god knows where.
“I need to be useful while I’m here. I tried to do some laundry, but there’s no hot water… I had to boil a pot to clean…”
While I’m here.
Something about those words sends the shutters down over Ben’s eyes, and his relaxed demeanour immediately vanishes again. He’s probably hoping Beau’s truck will appear over the brow of the hill any second to end this torture.
“Are your feet still bothering you?” he asks, the topic change is jarring but welcome.
I glance down, surprised.
“They’re almost better.” I stretch out my arms, then raise one leg, showing him the faint lines that are all that’s left of the scratches.
“Good.”
More silence. I finish my breakfast while trying not to stare at him. There’s something solid about him, permanent in a way that nothing in my life has been lately.
“You’ve got...” He gestures at my face. “There.”
I frown and lick my lips, trying to find whatever he’s pointing at, but I’m too distracted by the veins bulging on his thick arms to follow what he’s talking about.
“Where?”
He points again, but when I swipe at the wrong side of my face, he reaches out. His thumb brushes my cheek, warm and slightly rough. He shows me the honey glistening, holding it between us like evidence, while his dark eyes burn with the same hunger I saw last night.
We both stare at each other, caught in a trance, as his gaze flits over my face before landing on my mouth.
