Hunter Bear: BBW Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Enforcer Bears Book 2) (4 page)

"In that case, you really should join me for dinner,"she said firmly.

He hesitated a moment, but then he took a deep breath. "I'd like that a lot. And not just because by now I'm sick of heating cans of ravioli."

His eyes filled with warm as he looked at her, the morning light gleaming on his hair.

"I can do better than cans of ravioli at least." She couldn't stop looking at him.

How was it possible to be so captivated by someone's eyes? The brown intrigued her. It was filled with warmth, and yet it called up images of rough bark, of pine needles—of that portrait of a bear her Grandma had hanging in the house.

How strange. She'd never felt so drawn to someone before.

Maybe she'd been wrong before. Maybe this date was just what she needed. Maybe getting to know him better would help her make sense of this sudden, unexpected attraction. What was it about him that called out to her like this?

Maybe it's just that he's the complete opposite of Walter...

"I'll be back in the evening," he said, and then nodded at the hills once more. "Until then, I'll search that creek where he vanished. And you'll be careful?"

"I'll stay inside, or out on the lake. I promise." She gave him another smile, trying to fight the heat that gathered in her belly, pooling between her legs.

When she shifted, she could feel that she was already damp. Heat rushed to her face.

Maybe this was a mistake.

But for so long she'd been sensible, and in the end it turned out that Walter had been the real mistake.

Whatever Steven would turn out to be, at least she didn't think he'd leave her for fame and glory. There was something refreshingly honest about Steven.

Perhaps that was why she felt drawn to him. She didn't think he'd lie to her. A man who was actually hunting a wild jaguar in her forest had no reason to make up crazy lies.

"I'm looking forward to it." He spoke softly, his voice low and intimate. There was the smallest hint of a growl in it. It wasn't threatening at all, but a delightful rumble.

Need pulsed between her legs as she imagined what it would feel like to have him growl softly into her ear. How was she going to survive that dinner?

Her coffee had gone cold, she realized as she watched Steven vanish back into the forest. She drank it nevertheless, feeling breathless and overwhelmed. She couldn't help but think that this might just turn out to be the best bad decision of her life.

***

Today, her hour on the lake had yielded three trouts—none as large as the one she had caught yesterday, but together with the other dishes she had prepared, she hoped it would be enough even for a jaguar hunter who hadn't seen real food in weeks.

Cleo had used some of the blueberries she had gathered to bake muffins. There was a loaf of cornbread waiting as well, and she'd prepared a big bowl of salad. It was just as well that she'd driven into town for groceries a few days ago.

She still couldn't quite believe that Steven had been camping out in the wild all this time. It had been more than a week since she'd run into him first. And while the weather was still warm enough to sleep comfortably in a tent, she was sure that he'd be missing real food by now.

After some hesitation, she'd opened a bottle of wine as well. She didn't even really know why she had bought it. Now, with the glasses waiting on the old table, she felt a little ridiculous. What if he didn't think of this as a date? What if he was really only craving some food and conversation after too many days in the wilderness?

Self-consciously, she looked into the mirror. She'd put on a bit of make-up—not enough to be noticeable, or so she hoped, but it had made her feel better about herself. She hadn't exactly planned on having any dates out here, and she hadn't brought anything suitable to wear on a date. In the end, she'd settled on a simple, white linen skirt and a green tunic that went well with her eyes. Most importantly, it was one of the few items she owned which hadn't been stained by paint or polish yet.

She tilted her head, then smoothed back a curl of hair that kept escaping from behind her ear.

He's living out alone in the woods,
she thought.
This will do. I'm sure he doesn't expect anything fancy...

Nevertheless, she once again went to check on the fish. She'd rubbed it with salt and her Grandma's special herb mix for the fishes her Grandpa had pulled out of the lake: thyme, sage, rosemary, tarragon, mint and onion, mixed with salt and oil. The fishes had been resting in the aromatic mixture for a while now. All they'd have to do once Steven arrived was put them onto the fire.

Just when she'd gone to check on the muffins for the third time, there was a knock on her door at last. When she opened it, Steven was smiling at her.

He was still wearing the same clean, white shirt he'd worn earlier that day, and once more Cleo found herself utterly captivated by the triangle of chest it revealed.

"Sorry, I hope I didn't make you wait!" he said. "I would have brought wine, but that's a bit hard to find out here. I hope this will do?"

He held out a small bowl that was full to the brim with tiny wood strawberries, all of them bright red.

"Wood strawberries! Thank you!" Cleo couldn't quite hide her excitement when she took hold of the bowl. "We used to gather them as children, but it takes such a long time because they're so small!"

"But it's worth it, because—"

"—they're so sweet and delicious!" she finished for him, and then they were both laughing at each other. "So much better than the big ones. Thank you! That means that we're all set for dessert."

She showed Steven the way into her kitchen—the house was small, but the kitchen had been her Grandma's favorite room, and it was large enough to cook with a hungry gaggle of children seated at the table.

Now, Steven helped her to carry the food she had prepared outside, and then he busied himself with lighting the wood.

It wasn't dark yet. The air was still warm, and a gentle breeze came from the lake. The birds were singing in the distance, and every now and then Cleo could hear the by now familiar chatter of the squirrels that seemed to live nearby.

Cleo felt happy. She realized it with almost surprise. She'd been too busy to feel sad ever since she'd arrived here. But now, with nothing to do but watching the flames and the sizzling fish, with a glass of wine and a sexy, mysterious man by her side, she felt happy. It was the same happiness she had known here as a child: that feeling that everything was as it should be, and that only good things were waiting for her.

"What are you thinking of?" Steven asked softly. "You're smiling."

She felt herself blushing. "I'm thinking of the adventures we had as children. So many adventures. Every day was exciting. We'd climb rocks by the lake. We'd follow one of the creeks to its source. We'd try to catch a lizard without falling into the pond."

"And have you caught any lizards yet?" His eyes were crinkling as he smiled at her.

Steven looked at ease as well. Before, every now and then, she'd felt like there was more to him. Some deeper mystery—although perhaps that had been wishful thinking. Maybe she was just making up reasons, and she would have felt like this about any man who was so completely different to Walter.

No. No, she still couldn't explain it even to herself, but he made her feel
good
. Steven might be a man who camped in the forest and who hunted dangerous animals for a living, but he'd never treated her with anything but respect. Moreover, there had been that spark between them from the beginning. She'd never had a man look at her like he did. His eyes could turn all intense, the warm brown heating to amber, and all of that heat was focused on her. As if she was just as much of a puzzle to him as he was to her.

"I haven't tried catching a lizard yet,” she murmured, teasing a little. “In fact, the first time I went to the pond, I caught a quite different creature..."

He laughed in delight, although she could see him flush in embarrassment as well. Not that he had anything to be embarrassed about—but she wasn't about to tell him that. At least not yet.

Now she was the one blushing harder as her eyes lingered on that intriguing glimpse of muscled chest revealed by the V of his shirt.

"Sorry," he said softly. "That's the first time that happened. But at least I could warn you about the jaguar. So there's one good thing that came out of that surprise..."

Cleo’s heart was fluttering in her chest. "That wasn't the only good thing."

God, what am I doing? What if he doesn't feel like I do? What if it is way too early? What if—

Her thoughts broke off when he reached out and touched her hand. The contact was a shock—it was like being hit by lightning. Heat sizzled through her. She felt her heart speed up. She couldn't look away from his eyes.

So what if this was a bad idea? She had as much of a right as anyone else to make bad decisions.

And there's nothing bad about Steven—nothing at all,
her mind supplied as she remembered the powerful shape of his body bathing in the pond.

"I'm... I usually don't seek out people," Steven said, and swallowed. "I like the loneliness. I hadn't even talked to my brother in ages before I came here. But you... You make it easy to talk to you. I appreciate that."

"I'm glad you came today," Cleo replied quietly. Her heart was still beating fast.

His fingers were warm against her skin. His hand was so large, easily covering hers. She could feel the strength in him.

"I came here because I wanted the loneliness," she admitted after a long moment. "The man I thought I loved had broken up with me. I felt—I can't even find words for him. As though the life I'd had was all a lie. I'd trusted him. I'd believed him when he said that he loved me. But in the end, I didn't matter to him at all, and that made me feel..."

"It's hard to trust," Steven murmured. "And when you trust, and then have that trust betrayed..."

Cleo nodded. For a moment, she fought against tears as she thought of the apartment they'd had—a real home, she'd always thought.

But that had been left behind as easily as Walter had left behind Cleo and the gallery.

"So, now you know why I decided to spend a few weeks out here all alone in the forest." She sniffled a little, and then wiped her eyes with her hand.

This wasn't quite how she'd imagined this date to go—but Steven was still looking at her with that same intensity, his eyes dark with emotion. Was he hiding a similar hurt? Was that why he hid in the forest, too?

"I'm sorry I've intruded on your solitude." Steven gave her a small smile. His hand was still touching hers, and now he pressed it gently.

"Are you really?" she asked, her heartbeat echoing in her ears.

He laughed and then shook his head. "No, I'm not. I got to warn you about the jaguar, for one thing. And taste real, delicious food after a week of canned ravioli."

"And?" she dared to tease, emboldened by the way his eyes were now gleaming at her.

Heat had once more crept up her neck, heating her cheeks—but it was no longer embarrassment that made her flush. His touch had woken a different heat inside her. She couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to run her own hands over the virile, hard body she'd once seen gleaming in the water.

"And I got to meet you," he said, his voice low.

Where before his gaze had been intense, now she thought that the heat in his eyes would burn her. Warmth rushed through her veins. Every heartbeat made her throb with want. Her nipples ached against the lacy fabric of her bra.

His hand slowly slid upwards. His fingertips stroked the sensitive inside of her wrist. She could barely breathe; she was so aroused that it felt like every gentle touch made new waves of need pulse through her. Her panties were already damp. She imagined those fingers trailing up the insides of her thighs, that strong body against hers, skin to skin.

She couldn't believe this was possible. They'd barely touched, and already she desired him more than she'd ever wanted anything or anyone in her life.

He was breathing heavily. She could see the muscles of his chest shift beneath his shirt.

"Tell me if you don't," he began, the expression in his eyes almost helpless.

"I want to," Cleo breathed.

It needed no more explanation. The desire that pulled them together was an irresistible force. She could see it on his face, just as she could feel the way it ran through her own body.

When Steven stood, she stood as well—and then they were in each other's arms.

Steven's hands clasped her arms. She might have moaned, she couldn't say, because the need for him was too strong—but then his lips met hers, and all thought fell away.

His lips were hot against hers. The sensation was incredible. She moaned into the kiss, her hands sliding up his back as her mouth opened for him.

Beneath her fingers, she could feel muscles and tendons flex and tighten. He made a soft sound that was almost a growl, and the vibration of it sent a new wave of arousal through her.