I look in the mirror at him, our eyes locking. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a few days. Or shaved, for that matter.
“You going to tell me your name?” I cock my head to the side.
“Bleu.” He turns me, picking me up again, but this time I wrap my legs around him. His steps falter, and that’s when I remember I don’t have any underwear on. Only his giant shirt that drops to my knees when I’m standing.
“I will feed you, then bathe you.” He says it like there’s no room for debate as he carries me through the house, sitting me in a sofa chair in what looks to be his living room. Then he heads to the kitchen and starts pulling stuff out of the refrigerator.
“Are you a cop or something?” He’s bossy enough to be one.
“No. I’m a carpenter.” He pulls some pans out of a kitchen cabinet and starts cooking. His eyes keep popping up to look at me like he thinks I’m going to make a run for it. Heck, I don’t even know where the fudge I am.
The carpenter thing makes sense, though, with all the wood around here. Almost all of the furniture looks handmade.
“You said you confiscated my driver’s license,” I remind him. That’s why I thought he was a cop. Oh, and the bossy thing.
“Yes, you clearly shouldn’t be operating a vehicle. You need to go somewhere, I’ll drive you or I’ll go get what you need.”
I just watch him, unsure what to say to that. It takes me a minute to wrap my mind around it. I pull back the curtain I’m sitting next to and see everything is covered in snow. And by the looks of it, it’s still coming down hard. How long have I even been here? It’s clear I can’t go anywhere now, and the sun looks to be setting.
“What about when it’s time for me to go?”
A deep growl comes from the kitchen, making me look that way. Or maybe I’m not going anywhere after all.
Chapter 4 Bleu
Her sharp blue eyes watch me in the kitchen as I prepare her something to eat. I don’t say the words “you’re not leaving” out loud, but I think she understands. Maybe she thinks I’m acting this way because of the storm, but in reality, I’m keeping her
For the past two days I’ve stood guard over her. She slept for so long I began to worry about her, but finally she’s woken up. Seeing her lying there so helpless as she slept made my heart ache, and I knew I wanted to keep her. She needs someone to care for her and keep her safe, and I can do that. She will make a fine mate, and my bear completely agrees. Her wide hips are perfect for breeding and carrying young. I shouldn’t have looked at her naked body as long as I did, but I couldn’t help it. Her breasts were so full, and it made me think of her nursing our babies. Then I thought about suckling her there to taste the sweetness for myself.
I growl low in my throat, and I try to cover it with a cough. She has no idea what I am, but she’s not going anywhere. She’ll find out soon enough, but she’s mine no matter what.
I bring over the tray of food and set it down in front of her. I see her eyes grow wide with shock.
“Wow. That’s a lot of food.”
Looking down, I see the bowl of soup, sandwich, fruit, chicken, potatoes, and bread.
“You have been asleep for a long time. You need your strength. Eat.”
“Maybe just the soup to start with. I’d like to warm up a bit.”
She takes the bowl in her hands and tips it to her mouth, drinking the broth first. I go over to the fire and throw some more logs on top of the pile, making sure she’s getting enough heat.
I can show her what a good mate I can be. I will care for her like no other, and she’ll want to stay. That’s my plan. To make her dependent on me and to show her that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to please her.
When I walk over to where she’s seated, I stand there watching her drink the soup.
“This is really good. Thank you so much for rescuing me.” She looks up at me and then looks away as if she’s shy. “Why don’t you sit down?”
I realize then that maybe my standing over her is making her uncomfortable. So I kneel down in front of the couch.
She lets out a small laugh, and it makes me feel warm all over. Like when my bear gets to go play in the water. It’s as if I’m happy all over.
“Are you going to kneel there and watch me eat?”
“Yes.”
“So where am I? How far did you carry me from my car?”
“About ten miles.”
When the bowl stops before it reaches her lips and she raises an eyebrow, I explain.
“I have good hearing. And you’re not heavy.”
“My car must have made a really loud noise,” she says.
After she takes another sip, she looks at me and then leans closer, as if to share a secret.
“You know, I hear there are shifters in these woods.”
She looks around the room as if to spot one. Little does she know there’s one kneeling in front of her.
“Really? You heard that?”