Page 18 of His Bear Hands (Bear Creek Grizzlies #1)

18

ZOE

A s if almost being killed by Joey and then nearly dying in a car wreck — for the second time in as many days! — wasn't bad enough, just as she tried to tell Simon she wanted to stay with him, a freaking mountain lion jumped up from the bed of the truck and launched itself through the air at them.

A mountain lion.

She grabbed Simon and tried to wrench him out of the way, but succeeded only in hurting her back before the cat's paws collided with Simon's shoulders and threw them both to the ground. She squeaked as he knocked the air out of her, and Simon rolled, shouting at Ethan. Zoe gasped for air, waiting for the claws and teeth and blood.

Instead Tate stood up, totally naked but with two angry red weals on his chest, and scowled down at Simon. "You son of a bitch."

Zoe stared at him. Her thoughts didn't quite connect. She looked for the mountain lion, but there was only Tate. Simon lurched to his feet, standing over Zoe to prevent Tate from getting any closer. "What the hell, man? I thought you were dead."

"You never said you were a grizzly," Tate said, teeth bared.

Zoe looked between him and Simon, struggling to catch up. Dead?

Simon threw his arms out in exasperation. "Well, you never said you're a cat."

"A mountain lion, dick. Not a cat." Tate kept scowling as he shoved past Simon to help Zoe up, and she found herself once again faced with a naked man's business. Her brother's naked business.

She held her hands up to block everything from sight. "No, I'm cool. I'm cool. Find some pants, damn it."

"A precious little kitten," Simon said under his breath, throwing a pair of coveralls in Tate's face. "It explains a lot about you, man. All the bathing and tanning and sleeping."

Tate wasn't nearly as entertained as he shoved his legs into the coveralls and zipped them partially up. "You left me to bleed to death, asshole. You don't get to bitch at me about anything for at least six months."

"What the heck are you talking about?" Zoe looked between the two men as they squared off. She clutched handfuls of her hair, trying to think through the raging headache. It felt like she'd transported back in time a few hours and they were back at the lodge, both of them arguing over what to do with her. "What is going on? Why did you think Tate was dead?"

Simon shrugged, watching as a few of the other shifters helped Ethan extract Castellano and Joey from the car. "Some of Castellano's guys shot up the lodge. Tate was hit. I thought he was dead."

"So you left him?" Zoe's heart jumped to her throat. The red marks on Tate's chest were bullet holes .

"I had to find you," Simon said, like he was trying to be patient.

"That's it." Zoe stomped her foot and shoved him, knocking him back a step as Simon stared at her in surprise. "How could you leave him? What's wrong with you? I thought you were friends."

"We are." Simon blinked at he looked at her. "Zoe, he was —"

"He wasn't dead." She caught sight of Tate, smirking as he leaned against the truck, and turned her ire on him. "And you! You're my brother. Why the heck didn't you ever tell me you're a mountain lion?"

He straightened, a shadow of guilt crossing his expression, but he held out his hands to catch her. "Zoe, it was too dangerous for you to know. I didn't mean to keep it from you, but..."

Tears burned her eyes and Zoe held onto control with her fingernails. The bear inside her very much wanted to get loose so she could show those men how she felt about being left in the dark. She clenched her fists at her sides and fixed them with her fiercest look. "Don't you dare. I've had just about enough of the two of you. I need a break. I need to clear my head, and I don't want to see any more naked men."

She spun on her heel to march back to town, but ran into Rosie instead. The bartender caught her shoulders, took one look at her face, and said, "Honey, you look like you could use a drink. Come on with me and I'll get you settled." Rosie leaned around her to get an eyeful of Tate, then arched her eyebrow at him. "And you stick around, sugar. I've been looking for a hot little lion to warm my den at night. You'll do nicely."

Zoe hiccupped, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and let Rosie lead her back to the bar and inside. She was so relieved but so mad. After the terror of Castellano showing up, and Joey pointing the gun at her, and knowing that they were going to drive her somewhere they could hide her body... To have it all just end so abruptly knocked her off-balance. She was safe. The moment she saw Simon, she knew she was safe. But that didn't erase the terror of the last few hours, the uncertainty and fear. Zoe sank into a chair at one of the tables and rested her head on her arms. She wanted to cry but the tears seemed stuck in her throat.

Rosie dropped a basket of peanuts on the table along with two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey, and took the chair next to her. "Okay, honey. Start talking."

Zoe looked up, miserable. "About what?"

Rosie snorted, leveling one long, bejeweled nail at her. "First, why you smell like a bear now when you didn't before. Second, who the guys in the car are to you. And third, who that tall drink of water is."

Zoe's hand shook as she poured whiskey into the shot glasses, taking one before she dared speak. She wasn't a big drinker, but the events of the last few days deserved a round or two. "That's my brother, Tate. Half-brother, I guess."

Rosie made a sound suspiciously close to a purr. Zoe wanted to giggle at the thought of Rosie chasing after Tate; her brother wouldn't know what hit him. But she sagged against the table again, wishing her heart would stop racing and her hands would stop trembling. "And I'm a bear now. I crashed the truck and would have died, so Simon gave me blood. So I'm a bear."

"Oh my." Rosie's expression grew serious as she reached for Zoe's hand on the table, pressing her fingers in a comforting show of support. "Honey, that's a lot to take in. How are you doing with it?"

"I don't know." Zoe tried to give her a wobbly smile. "It doesn't really matter, does it? I can't change it."

"Well, sure. That's true." Rosie sipped some whiskey, then started cracking open peanuts. "But that doesn't mean you can't be angry or scared or frustrated. Confused. Maybe excited. It's a lot to take in."

Zoe rubbed her face. "I was too worried about all of this other stuff."

"Seems like you got a lot of people chasing after you."

"Not as much now, I think." Zoe exhaled and felt some of the weight lift off her chest. At least Simon took care of Castellano. And she still had some of the money. Enough to buy the land Simon wanted and maybe even build a cabin or two. She reached for more whiskey. "But that doesn't help me figure out where to go next."

"What do you mean?"

"Simon wants me to stay here," Zoe said, frowning at the amber liquid in her tiny glass. "And Tate wants me to go back to California."

"But what does Zoe want?" Rosie glanced up as the door at the back of bar opened. "That seems to be the more important question, sug."

"It's easy to ask questions," Zoe said. She sighed and finished off the drink, wishing for a couple more as Simon eased into the bar, looking guilty. "But more difficult to answer them, don't you think?"

Rosie chuckled as she shoved to her feet, but she paused long enough to murmur, "Take some advice from someone who's been around a while — don't pass up true love because you're scared of it. At least give it a chance. You can always walk away later, but the very worst type of regrets are the 'what ifs,' honey. Believe me."

From the pain in her eyes, Zoe knew she spoke the truth. Zoe swallowed another knot of emotion and nodded. "Thanks, Rosie."

"Sure." The bartender patted her on the back and headed for the exit, though she gave Simon a hard look as she passed him. "Be kind, young man."

He nodded and said, "Always, Rosie," but he looked miserable as he approached Zoe's table.

She downed another shot and took a deep breath as he sat. He didn't look like a man about to deliver good news. Maybe Castellano escaped. Maybe he died but more of his guys were on the loose and Zoe would spend the rest of her life running away. Maybe Tate died. Maybe Simon changed his mind and didn't want a criminal living with him. She gripped the edge of the table until her knuckles ached and tried to brace herself for the worst possible outcome. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.