Page 9 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
Maybe he can.
I slide forward in my seat, trying to get a better look at his face, currently hidden by dark shadows and a thick beard, when his eyes lift to mine, and a zing of something passes straightthrough me. Shame at getting caught staring? More adrenaline? Whatever it is has my heart racing.
Lazily, Ben pulls his gaze back to his brother, who shifts from one foot to the other, shaking off his wet arms.
Only when Ben steps to the side to let Beau up onto the porch, slowly and very reluctantly, and I see them standing side by side, do I realise just how huge Ben is. He’s taller than Beau by a few inches and even wider in the shoulders. Wearing a long sleeve shirt, worn dark jeans, and work boots, he looks like some kind of wild lumberjack, like he could tear down trees with his bare hands. The hands that are currently balled into fists as he glares at Beau.
His lips move, and I think I make out the wordsWhat the fuck is this?
Beau turns his hands palm up, looking apologetic, and gestures toward his truck.
I crack my door open an inch, eager to hear what’s being said about me, and their deep voices carry despite the rain.
“No.” Ben’s tone is resolute. Final. “Whatever you’re about to ask, the answer is no.”
His eyes slide briefly to the SUV, narrowing when he sees me staring in their direction, now visible with the interior light on, before landing squarely back on Beau. There isn’t a hint of indecision in his strong features, or a flicker of emotion. Beau might have better luck moving the mountain than convincing his brother to change his mind.
“Ben…” Beau doesn’t get to say more than that one word before Ben’s hand goes up, and he closes his eyes, shaking his head to immediately reject whatever Beau is going to say.
“No favour that you need in the middle of the night is a good one, Beau.” It’s a good point, and Beau can’t argue with that, so he tries a different tactic.
Guilt.
“We need your help. She has nowhere else to go.”
Ben’s eyes, drawn down under dark brows, find me again, and he frowns. I wonder if I look pathetic enough for him to take us in. Maybe I should start crying. I’m surprised I haven’t already.
“I said no to working with you multiple times. What part ofI don’t want to do private securitydidn’t you understand?”
Beau lifts his chin, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “You also said you’d think about it.”
Ben huffs and lifts his impressive chest as he stares at his brother with exasperation.
“Everyone knows that’s the same thing.” Ben jerks his head in my direction, his jaw-length hair moving around his face as he does, giving me a clear view of brown eyes, almost glowing amber in the reflected light, that make my breath catch. “Doesn’t mean I’m open for whatever the hell this is at three in the morning.”
Beau glances back at the SUV. “She’s in danger. She needs somewhere to crash, that’s it. Unless you think I should bring her with me.”
If I weren’t in factextremelydesperate, I’d object to Beau making it soundsoridiculous that I accompany him on his hunt for my stalker, but if it gets me inside a warm house with a bed for the night, I’ll allow it.
“Absolutely not.” Ben looks furious at the suggestion that I be allowed to tag along. His voice drops lower as he rubs a hand over his neat beard. “Fuck. Don’t do this to me.”
“We have to help her.”
“Notwe, you.” Ben’s eyes snap back to his brother, and he points a finger straight at him, raising his voice above the wind. “This is your job, Beau. What you get paid for,well paid.Take her to a hotel. Police station. Literally, anywhere else.”
Ouch. It might not be personal, but it definitely feels like it when I’m this scared and vulnerable.
“Don’t be a heartless dick.” Beau growls, his calm demeanor flipping like a switch as he bats Ben’s hand away and moves toward him, getting into his personal space. I tense, expecting violence, but Ben doesn’t react at all.
Beau doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the frosty reception he’s getting. He plows on, determined to get me in that door.
“He’s been stalking her for weeks, broke into her home tonight while she was sleeping. She jumped out a third-floor window to get away,” Beau says quietly. “Barefoot. In her pyjamas.” A pause. “He won’t give up.”
Ben groans and rubs his beard again. That caught his attention, creating a tiny crack in his armour that Beau is determined to capitalise on.
“This isn’t some pampered princess who’s run away from home. She’s in real trouble.”
Hearing him describe me that way is jarring. I’ve always been independent. I pride myself on being strong and not needing anyone. Realising I’m a victim doesn’t sit well with me, despite it being indisputably true.
