Page 22

Chapter 22

Caleb

I t was probably early in the season to be chopping firewood when he had only his own small space to heat, but Caleb had some aggression to work out.

Also, he had the feeling it was going to be an especially cold winter.

He stopped to take his shirt off, wiping his sweaty face on it before tossing it aside. In the space of a few weeks, it had gone from freezing and snowy to too warm to chop wood in a shirt.

No wonder Poppy had decided it was time for him to be up for the year.

He rolled his neck in a circle to try to release some of the pent-up tension, not that it helped, and took a drink from his nearby water bottle.

Maybe he really did hate himself, but as he worked, all he could think of was, Honestly, Jasper, you’d have been better off with the animal .

Apparently that was how incubi saw Caleb. Less appealing than a bear. He wondered why Jasper had even bothered with him. Grateful Caleb had saved his life? Just hungry and willing to accept anything that was in front of him?

He hefted his axe and settled the piece of wood in place, and his swing went all the way through and lodged in the stump beneath. He glared at it, but that was when movement on the edge of the clearing caught his eye.

There, in all his incubus glory, stood Jasper. His adorable horns were out, eyes as red as cardinals, and pointy teeth worrying his lower lip as he stood there at the edge of the woods, watching Caleb work.

Was that the hint of a lashing tail behind him?

He was back in his hiking clothes too, and they suited him better.

What the hell was wrong with Caleb, that his first thought upon seeing a man who’d used him, wasn’t interested in him, didn’t even like him, was how fucking much he had missed him?

Jasper froze for a moment on the edge of the clearing, but eventually, he drew himself up to his full height, squared his shoulders, and stepped out of the woods.

That was when Caleb realized that Jasper had two things in his hands. A bag of Oreos and a little yellow flower.

What the hell?

He forgot all about the axe and marched over to Jasper, ready to snatch the flower away and tell him to get the fuck out of the woods, but as he approached, Jasper held out the bag of cookies.

“They’re not the same ones,” he admitted. “I kind of ate the ones you brought. But I got you some more.”

Caleb didn’t know what to say. Why the hell would Jasper bring him cookies? What did he want? Was the flower some kind of play for sympathy?

Instead of asking everything he wanted to, all he got out was, “Why?”

Jasper winced a little, but he didn’t pull back. “I’m”—he motioned down at himself—“you know what I am. What my family is. My father keeps a house full of humans as sex toys. They’re practically zombies. My brother doesn’t take his wallet clubbing, because he knows his pheromones will convince someone to buy him whatever he wants. He came home with a Rolex once.”

“You never asked me for a Rolex,” Caleb pointed out. It was an inane comment, maybe, but a point that seemed important with the context.

Jasper’s lips thinned into a self-deprecating grimace. “So my sister pointed out to me. That, you know, if I don’t treat you like a sex doll, you won’t be one.”

Caleb snorted at the very idea of someone keeping him as a sex toy. Big, ungainly, furry bear fae-shifters didn’t make good toys. “Wouldn’t be a decent sex doll if you tried to keep me as one. No one has a Smoky the Bear doll.”

Jasper rolled his eyes and huffed. “That’s because they’ve never had you. And they all have bad taste. Bears are the sexiest, and you’re by far the sexiest bear.”

“That guy?—”

“Malcolm is an asshole,” Jasper interrupted, clearly aware of the source of Caleb’s doubt. “He’s never had a relationship that lasted longer than one night, unless it was two nights in a row. You can hardly take his opinions seriously.”

Caleb stopped and really thought about it. He missed Jasper. Was it possible the whole thing had just been bad communication? He jerked his chin in the direction of the flower. “And that?”

Jasper held the damn thing up. “The witch who told me to eat one.” Poppy. Godsdammit, he was talking about Poppy. Jasper had almost died because of her. “She said if I eat one, it’ll block my pheromones. You won’t want me because I’m an incubus, just because I’m, you know, me—I mean, if you still do want me.”

Caleb wanted to hug him and shake him in almost equal measures. “I’ve never wanted you because you’re an incubus, you ridiculous ass.”

“But—”

“I’m half fae and have the constitution of a bear, Jasper. Your powers aren’t that strong.”

Jasper’s eyes widened in shock. “So Poppy?—”

“Is my sister.”

“Oh . . .”

Then he ducked his head and went back to biting his lip, so Caleb rolled his eyes and waved at the flower. “If that’s what you need to convince you, then fine, eat the damn thing. And then once you’re convinced, you’re coming inside and drinking the cure.”

Jasper flinched a little, and Caleb had a moment of guilt because the stuff really was vile, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Jasper be poisoned.

One more time, Jasper held out the damned disgusting cookies, and finally, Caleb took them with a sigh. “You know you’re going to be the one to eat these, right? I don’t even like Oreos.”

Jasper’s eyes went wide, and around his mouthful of poison, he hissed, “Monster!”

Caleb rolled his eyes, grabbed Jasper and slung him over his shoulder, and headed for the cabin.