Page 97 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
“Fine.” Maybe focusing on someone else’s problems will help. “But I’m not taking any job. Just... helping out.”
Beau rolls his eyes, confident that he’s going to wear me down eventually.
“Whatever gets you in the truck.” Maddox is already heading for the door. “Shower first and bring your gear; it’s an overnight thing.”
The bedroom doorway looms as I approach. I make the mistake of going inside. The sheets are still tangled from our last morning together. I couldn’t even bring myself to sleep here because her scent is everywhere. My bear whines at the emptiness of it.
“Ben.” Beau’s hand on my shoulder pulls me back. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll be back together in no time.”
“Yeah?” I turn on him. “You ever been away from your mate? Ever have them send you away because you’re too pathetic to handle their world?”
He flinches but doesn’t back down. “Zara didn’t reject you. She just knows you need more space. She’ll be back.”
I want to believe him. Want to believe she’ll be there Friday morning at the airport like she promised. But doubt gnaws at me. What if she takes the LA job? What if she realizes she’s better off without a bear who can’t even handle a few days in the city?
“Let’s go,” I say, shouldering past him. “Before I do something stupid.”
Like driving back down there and begging her to come back here and never leave.
The truck rumbles to life as I climb in back. I force myself not to look at the cabin. Not to think about how empty it is without her.
Maddox glances at me in the mirror as we drive. “For what it’s worth, she called Beau. Asked him to check on you. Make sure you were okay.”
Something loosens in my chest. She called. She’s thinking about me, too.
“Still doesn’t feel right,” I mutter.
“No,” Beau agrees quietly. “Don’t imagine it does.”
The bear settles slightly as we leave the mountain. Not calm—I won’t be calm until I see her again—but maybe I can hold it together.
I just have to make it to Friday without going completely feral.
43
BEN
The sharp rock at my back digs into my skin through the thin padding of my jacket. I could move, but strangely, I’m enjoying the pain. It’s better than the chilling numbness I’ve felt since I left her in that apartment.
Wind cuts through the trees above us, sending leaves rustling. I tug my padded jacket tighter around me and scowl at the grey sky visible through the canopy. The cold’s seeping through my jeans where they press against the damp earth, and my fingers are going numb around these binoculars.
“Stop moving,” Maddox mutters from his position beside me, his own pair trained on the estate below. “You’re making noise.” He’s been in the same position for two hours, completely still, like the predator he is. I don’t know how he does it.
The boulder we’re using for cover is massive granite streaked with white and positioned perfectly on this hillside. It gives us a clear view of the mansion’s gates while keeping us hidden.
We’re maybe an hour outside the city, close enough to civilisation, that I can hear the distant hum of traffic when the wind shifts. The whole setup below screams money. From themanicured lawns to a fountain that probably costs more than my cabin, with security cameras on every corner.
“Remind me why I agreed to this?” I complain, shifting again just to annoy him. Coming along was supposed to be a distraction, not another form of torture.
“Because you were destroying your cabin and scaring the shit out of your brothers.” He adjusts his position against the boulder, the movement so slight, I barely catch it. His breath mists in the cold air as he speaks. “Besides, this one’s easy. Wife of that action star, Rick Dalton. He thinks she’s cheating.”
I pick up the spare binoculars. The metal’s cold against my face as I focus on the mansion’s driveway. The lens brings everything into sharp focus: the ornate iron gates, the perfectly paved drive. It’s the kind of excess that makes my stomach turn.
“And we care about some actor’s marriage because...?”
“Because he’s paying us a fortune to document everything before his lawyers move in.” Maddox’s voice is matter of fact, the same tone he uses when discussing the weather. He pulls out a notebook, pages already filled with neat timestamps and observations. “He needs proof of infidelity, or he loses half of everything in the divorce.”
My bear growls at the cynicism of it all, the sound vibrating through my chest before I can stop it. The idea of reducing a marriage to surveillance photos and financial calculations makes me sick.
