Page 6 of Hunny and the Bear (Bearly Yours #1)

Six

H unny had a hard time keeping her eyes off of Tank. She’d felt drawn to him all day long, her gaze riveted by the graceful way he moved despite his size. He might have been even taller than she’d originally assumed, now that she was getting a good look at him in her human form. And what a sight he was, standing there half naked in a kitchen while making her dinner.

She bit her lower lip, looking away from his tanned chest as she made her way over to the barstool. At least when he’d been chopping wood like a man on a mission, his chest had been covered. Because if she’d seen his muscles damp with sweat, his chest hairs glistening in the sunlight, she probably would have lost her mind.

Get your head out of the gutter, you sex fiend , she chided silently, doing her best to ignore the delicious smell of cloves and musk that clung to her borrowed shirt. The material hung over her body like a loose dress, but it was warm and smelled just like Tank, which made her feel protected.

“So”—she shifted in her seat before looking up at him—“do you enjoy fishing?”

He smirked, seasoning the fish. “Depends on how you mean, Hunny.”

She shivered as he said her name, that deep gravelly voice making it sound like he’d whispered directly into her ear, like a lover might.

And then his words sank in. She cocked her head to the side in confusion. “Usually people use a fishing pole—” Her eyes widened and she let out a small laugh. “Don’t tell me you catch fish while you’re shifted.”

Tank shrugged, turning away from her to place the fish in a skillet on the stovetop. His sculpted back greeted her, and despite her resolve to stop eyeing him like a piece of meat, Hunny leaned forward to get a better look until she was practically on the countertop.

The stool squeaked, giving her away, and he looked over his shoulder, his chocolate-brown eyes heating as they locked onto her. Startled, she dropped back onto the stool immediately, her face flaming with embarrassment.

Oh, God .

He’d caught her looking at him like a perv!

He returned to his task. “My bear enjoys catching fish, and I clean it all thoroughly when I bring it back. I assume it’s much like when you feel the urge to nest.”

The image of his chest hair popped into her head, causing her cheeks to heat even further. Yeah, her urge to build a nest using his hair had been nearly overwhelming, so she understood what he meant. Luckily, she didn’t feel the need to do that now.

Well …

“I get it,” she replied. “No judgment here.”

Tank grunted in answer, moving to the fridge and grabbing some things before returning to the stove.

“Need to ask,” he began after a few minutes of comfortable silence had stretched between them. “You in bad with the Moon Rose pack?”

She stilled, her face draining of color at the simple question. She should have expected he’d ask something like that, but for whatever reason, she felt completely blindsided by his question. Probably because this entire day, she hadn’t thought about Jason at all, too entertained by Tank’s mannerisms, the way he completed his sexy lumberjack chores, and how he’d let her boss him around while they’d watched TV.

For a scary-looking male, he’d sat down and watched hours of her favorite reality TV show while she’d snuggled up against his leg, dozing on and off. Every time she’d woken up, she thought the channel would have changed, but nope. He’d catered to her then, just like he’d done every second she’d been here.

Moving her hand to her stomach, she rubbed her lower belly soothingly. “I just came to Montana about a month ago,” she responded vaguely. “That’s not really enough time to make enemies, is it?”

He turned toward her then, a set of tongs held tightly in his hand. “So the wolf hunting you down wasn’t an enemy?”

“I—” Hunny’s fingers twisted into her borrowed shirt. “It’s complicated, Tank.”

She winced when she said his nickname. Was it bad that she’d rather call him Henry? Physically, he might be Tank, but Henry suited his sweet demeanor perfectly.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” he finally said, grimacing as his voice wavered. Her eyes shot to his neck, where he’d pointed at earlier in the day. She could just see scarring there, behind his beard, where he had obviously sustained some sort of permanent injury. Not only had he been helping her through everything, he’d ignored his own pain to comfort her. “Just need to know if my clan should expect trouble.”

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. “I didn’t think about that.” She pushed herself from the stool, suddenly uneasy. What if Natasha came back here? Or Jason? She’d learned, painfully , that she’d never really known him, despite him being her mate. What if he found out she was here and caused problems for Tank and his family? She didn’t want that. Hadn’t she been enough of a burden already? “I-I should leave.”

She’d barely made it into the living room before Tank was on her, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. He tugged gently, spinning her around. She was so surprised by the action, she bumped into him, her body going flush against his for one, all-too-brief second.

“I don’t want you to go,” he murmured, his hold on her wrist firm and comforting, something she was so acutely aware of. “Do you want to leave?”

Did she?

Hunny couldn’t remember a time after her parents’ deaths that she’d ever felt truly at ease. Even during the few weeks she’d spent with Jason, her stupid true mate, it had never been quite right. A constant gnawing in her gut. She’d waited for the other shoe to drop, or for something terrible to happen. And it had, spectacularly.

So far, she hadn’t felt like that here, like the world was going to be swept out from under her. She’d slept the entire night without issue, eaten more than she had in a long time, and she just felt … she didn’t know what, honestly. Rested? At peace? Whatever this feeling was, she liked it, and she didn’t want to leave, at least not until she’d properly licked her wounds and came up with a plan to move on.

Right now, she had nothing anyway. No means to leave Montana, no idea of where to go, what to do. She was a pregnant lone shifter.

“No, I like it here,” she finally told him, staring at his lips.

“Then stay, Hunny. You’re welcome to stay.” His thumb slid over her pulse, caressing her skin. “As long as you want.”

“Here?” Feeling suddenly shy, she looked away from him, staring around the small cabin. “I don’t want to be a burden to you. You’ve already done so much for me, and my needs are only going to compound the further along I get with my pregnancy.”

They hadn’t discussed that yet, or much of anything, but she knew he could smell it on her. What kind of male wanted a female, pregnant with another male’s babies, invading his space? And his home was small—soon enough she’d inevitably take over his cabin, even without intending to.

“Having you here has been … refreshing.” Tank shrugged, slowly releasing her wrist. She kind of hated how cold she felt without his touch. “You can even have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

Hunny snorted. “There’s no way your feet won’t dangle off the edge. No, I’ll stay on the couch.”

He smirked. “So you are staying.”

Was she?

He must have seen the indecision warring on her face, because he reached up, cupping her cheek. Her eyes shot to his. Determination shined in his gaze, and she had a feeling that he’d speak until his voice gave out if that’s what it took to convince her. “Give it a few days, at least. Figure out what you need to do first and then decide.”

“Okay.”

The words had barely left her mouth before Tank moved. Placing an arm behind her knees and lower back, he scooped her up and into his arms, moving quickly into the kitchen. She barely had time to brace a hand against his chest before she was back on her stool, gaping at him in shock as he returned to the stove.

“I can’t believe you just picked me up like that!” she exclaimed, unsure if she should feel outraged or baffled. She’d gotten used to him carrying her around as a bunny, but now he was doing it while she was in her human form?

He shrugged, plating their food and making his way over to her. “I enjoy carrying you.”

She raised a haughty brow, ignoring the way her mouth watered as the smell of cooked trout reached her nose. “You think that now, but if you spoil me, I’ll demand you carry me everywhere.”

Lips twitching, he sat down beside her, dwarfing her small frame. “Eat. Let me know if you want more.”

“More?” She eyed the plate full of fish, salad, and two bread rolls. She didn’t even know if she could handle all of this, let alone a second helping. But the delicious smell overrode any doubts and she’d barely had the thought before she dug into her plate, devouring most of it before she’d come up to inhale.

Okay, maybe she was hungrier than she’d realized. She polished off her last bread roll, and before she could even mourn its loss, Tank took the remaining roll off his plate, dropping it onto hers without a word.

Her throat clogged with emotion at the simple yet kind gesture, and she looked over at him. “Thank you, Henry. Not just for dinner, but for saving my life. My baby’s, too.” Her nose tingled and her eyes watered as gratitude overwhelmed her. He looked at her then, his expression concerned as she struggled to compose herself. “I, uh, I’m just really glad that you found me when you did.” Her voice cracked, and a fat tear spilled from her eye, tracking down her cheek.

And then the floodgates opened, and she began weeping, her chest heaving as a barrage of tears ran down her face unchecked.

His eyes filled with alarm.

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed through a hard sob, wiping quickly at her face with the back of her hand. “I ne-never cry. This is s-so embarrassing!”

This had to be pregnancy hormones, right? What a terrible time to have a meltdown! Tank was probably rethinking his offer now, mortified she’d turned into an emotional mess because of a bread roll.

Pull yourself together, bitch!

Instead, she only cried harder.

Tank stared at her in bewilderment, probably just as startled as she was by her outburst. “I’m so sorry, I literally can’t stop,” she wailed, snatching up a napkin from the counter and covering her face, like she could spare them both from this entire horrible experience by hiding behind it. She probably looked like a freaking lunatic—

He plucked her up from her stool, careful to keep the shirt covering her ass as he palmed her bottom. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, removing the napkin to drop her face into the crook of his shoulder. She hid there, partly because she was too embarrassed to face the world, but also because his scent helped calm her down.

He made gentle noises in his throat, rubbing a hand soothingly up and down her spine as he left the kitchen, carrying her around like precious cargo.

“Come now, darlin’. We’ll watch some more of that housewives show you like,” he bargained, the stress evident in his voice nearly causing her to laugh, despite how much she was crying. “Take your mind off things.”

“Yeah?” she asked, sniffling into his neck. She laid her head on his shoulder as he sat on the couch, his hand dropping to her hips as he kept her firmly in his lap.

The position was extremely intimate. She should move away, sit down beside him, and apologize for acting so irrationally.

But as he turned the TV on, the theme song of her favorite show filling the room, she didn’t do any of that.

Instead, she clung to him a little tighter, letting the warmth of his body and his addicting scent lull her to sleep.