Page 50 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
I follow, trying to act normal despite the electric tension crackling between us. We move around each other like opposing magnets, being careful not to touch, not to get too close. He hands me my mug without our fingers brushing, and I add cream while he stares out the window.
An engine’s rumble cuts through the mountain quiet, and Ben’s head snaps up, body going alert. Through the window, I see Beau’s black SUV navigating the muddy drive, but this time, he’s not alone.
“Great,” Ben mutters, setting his mug down with enough force to slosh coffee onto the counter. “Just what I need.”
He might not be thrilled to see Beau, but I am. It’s been a week. I’m desperate for news about what’s going on. Maybe Beau has found the stalker. Maybe he’s here to bring me home.
That thought doesn’t make me as happy as it should.
“Who’s with him?”
Ben gives me a funny look when I edge closer to the window and lean past him, trying to see who his brother has brought up here.
“Knowing my luck, the twins.”
Quick as lightning, he grabs my index finger and brings it to his mouth, sucking hard, eyes closed, like he’s enjoying hisfavourite treat. His tongue drags over my fingertip as he lifts his eyes briefly to mine, taking my breath away, before he’s gone, already moving toward the door, shoulders set like he’s preparing for battle.
Did he just…?
I stare at my hand, then at his mouth, and swallow hard, knowing exactly what he just did.
Oh god. He did know.
Ben is out the door in a flash, moving to intercept the vehicle before it even stops, while I attempt to regain my composure after the most erotic finger licking I’ve ever experienced. His body language screams displeasure, squared shoulders and arms folded over his broad chest.
Even from here, I can read his mood. He doesn’t want company. A wicked part of my brain thinks maybe he didn’t want us to be disturbed.
I run my fingers through my sleep-tangled hair, suddenly conscious of my state. Barefoot, wearing Ben’s clothes, and probably still looking exactly like someone who fled their apartment in the middle of the night.
The porch is rough and cold under my socked feet as I shuffle outside to greet the new arrivals. Morning mountain air bites at my exposed legs below the flannel’s hem. Both men turn at my appearance, their expressions shifting when they see how I’m dressed.
“We’re just up,” I supply, wiggling my toes, as if that explains everything. “I mean, I’m just up.”
“I see.”
Beau looks professional but concerned, his detective mask not quite hiding his worry, as he turns his narrowed eyes on Ben. Ben looks ready to send his brother right back down the mountain.
“Zara.” Beau nods, voice carefully neutral. “First, I don’t have news about your stalker, unfortunately. Or Amber. Just wanted to put that out there in case you thought we did. We still haven’t found him, but we do need to talk.”
Those words. Every person with a missing loved one learns to dread them. My stomach drops like a stone, coffee turning to acid in my mouth.
“Come in,” Ben says it, because he knows I can’t, gripped by nerves as I am.
Inside, the small cabin feels even smaller with both Lennox men filling the space. They’re both tall and broad, and the family resemblance is even stronger with them side by side.
Ben hovers as I move around the kitchen, staying close enough that I keep nearly backing into him. When I reach for mugs, he’s there. When I turn to the coffeepot, he’s somehow in the way again.
Finally, I plant a hand on his chest, needing the contact as much as the space.
His heart hammers under my palm, betraying his calm facade. His solid warmth makes me want to lean in, to let him wrap those muscular arms around me and tell me everything will be okay.
Another head kiss would be lovely right about now.
“Sit,” I tell him quietly. “You’re making me nervous.”
He sits but immediately pulls out the chair beside him. It’s both an invitation and an order. I take it without hesitation, grateful for the anchor I suspect I’m going to need.
Beau watches our interactions carefully as he pulls out a notebook, its pages already filled with neat handwriting. The leather cover is worn at the edges from use. And all business now, though his eyes soften when they meet mine.
