Bear to the End (Bear Claw Security Book 5) (3 page)

Seriously? This gorgeous woman was losing sleep over him?

She snorted. “Don’t get a big head about it. My bed isn’t that comfortable anyway.”

That rankled as well. She deserved the best bed in the world. “Why don’t you go take a nap or hit the hay early?” he asked. “I have some more work to do on the system to make it more secure, so you might as well get rest.” He frowned. “But you might want some earplugs. Could be loud.”

He was grateful when she didn’t fight him. “You’re probably right,” she said, yawning and stretching. He swept the empty takeout containers into the trash and put away the rest.

She gave him a long look before she headed down the hall to her room. He practically felt his skin light on fire. He’d thought he’d be numb for a while after what he’d seen today. But then just being alone with her, feeling the heat between them, was healing him.

Like he wanted to heal her.

“Go to sleep, babe,” he said. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“And you’ll be okay out here?” she asked.

He nodded, and she waved and disappeared into her room.

“I’ll be fine as long as I can be here with you,” he said to himself as he took out his phone and dialed a number. “Craig? Yeah. I need you on a job. Yeah.” He gave his contractor the address and then hung up.

Hopefully, Char wouldn’t be mad when she woke up and saw what he’d done. But he couldn’t keep himself from doing things for her any more than he could keep the moon from shining.

It wasn’t only getting worse the longer he was with her.

C
har woke exhausted
after another night filled with dreams of her new bodyguard.

It was so odd. She’d often had dreamless sleep or occasional nightmares. But she’d never had sex dreams. Not until the past two nights with Mark in her house.

It was so unlike her. She almost dreaded getting changed and walking into the living room. At least she would remember to put on clothing this time. She grinned as she recalled how embarrassed she’d been the other morning.

There was something very sweet about the man who was protecting her. It wasn’t just the way he got them food, sent her to bed early, and watched her like a hawk for any danger. It was the way she’d seen him get so angry over the stuff that happened at the shelter. The way he honestly seemed bothered by what went on with some of the most disadvantaged in society, when so many could just walk away from it.

It felt good knowing he could empathize.

Why it should matter, she didn’t know. After all, he was just hired protection. Yet every hour she spent with him, she could feel it becoming something else. She felt there was more to him beneath the surface than met the eye, and she wasn’t sure exactly how she knew, but she did.

She stretched and felt a little frisson of nerves run over her at going out to see him. Maybe she could get more time to talk to him on the drive and at break time at work. He knew a lot about her now that he knew she’d been in an abusive marriage. She knew nothing about him, other than he’d been in the military and was estranged from his rich family and ran a security company.

She took a quick shower, got dressed, and then walked out into the living room… And gasped, one hand flying up to cover her mouth.

What on earth?

Her eyes flew to where he was on the ground, his big body barely grazed by a small blanket as he sprawled haphazardly on the cushions. She blinked at the room around her, completely changed overnight.

Gone were the old, splintered window and door and their frames. In their place were brand new installations, with fresh white paint and thick frames and hefty locks, including a thick double deadbolt as well as a chain lock on the door.

“Don’t look too impressed,” he said, sitting up. “I didn’t do it on my own. I called help.”

She was still speechless. She’d always hated the drafty old window and the creaky door, but she hadn’t had the money or know-how to fix them. She was grateful, but at the same time…

He was yawning and running both hands through his thick blond hair, looking like a model someone had deposited on her living room floor. She gaped at him.

“Does Bear Claw have the money to do this?”

He looked at her blearily, blinking a couple times to clear his mind. It was obvious he wasn’t sleeping well here, and that gave her a moment of guilt. “We’re subsidized for things like this.” He stretched and stood, unintentionally towering over her. “Plus, if anyone in the world deserves this, it’s someone like you. I’m going to see if we can make a donation to the shelter, too.”

She walked in front of him as he headed to the refrigerator, blocking him with folded arms. Her heart pounded hard, and she didn’t even know why.

“Why are you doing all of this?” she asked, blinking up at him, trying to keep emotion at bay. “It has nothing to do with hiring you.”

“Of course it does,” he said. “It makes us both safer.”

“You know what I mean,” she said. “The food. The care. And the high quality installation, when it’s going to be useful to me far longer than it is for you once you leave.”

His blue eyes were clear and serious as he looked down at her, and a little shudder ran down her arms as he put both hands on either side of her on the fridge. She nearly flinched, but his expression was so calm and gentle.

She didn’t know what was happening between them, but she wanted to trust it. She was glad she’d asked him what was happening, because nothing about this had felt normal since he first showed up. Sure, any protection detail would come around with her, but they wouldn’t care like he did. She felt his eyes following her every moment. Hell, her eyes followed
him
.

“I just…” He blinked, and she noticed he had long eyelashes, a gorgeous contrast to his strong, sharp masculine jaw and perfectly straight nose and high brow. He was too handsome by far. “I guess something about you just makes me want to take care of you.”

She looked into his eyes, feeling tension grow between them. She felt pressure in her own legs, and higher, and couldn’t believe the way she was responding to him. It was inappropriate, weird; it was something she wasn’t ready for yet. Or was she?

Still, she took a deep breath and pushed forward, and he stepped immediately back.

“Sorry,” he said, putting up his hands.

She was breathing hard, one hand on her chest at the effect he had on her.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, coming forward to put his hands on her arms to steady her. Electric tingles moved through her, and she jerked back, utterly shocked that any male could have that effect on her. Even her ex-husband, who had at one time been very nice, had never felt anything like that.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, and his mouth twisted.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, taking another step back. “I’m scaring you, aren’t I?” He shoved a hand into his hair and strode to the other side of the room. “I’m trying to just be a good guy, but maybe I’m not as good as I thought I was.”

She felt her heart pounding, her legs like jelly. Yes, he scared her, but not in the way he thought. He scared her because he might just be perfect for her. He might just be her mate.

What else could feel like sparks every time they made eye contact?

She bit her lip. But she wasn’t ready to tell him that. What if she was wrong? What if it was just an effect of how attractive he was? Plus, just because she made him want to care for her, it didn’t mean he was looking at her
that
way. Maybe it was just because he saw her as pitiful.

No, she saw the way he looked at her sometimes, though he was trying to hide it. It wasn’t pity. At least most of the time. It was longing.

Longing she shared.

She swallowed as the long moment stretched between them. Then she spoke. “You didn’t scare me,” she said. “And you’re a very good man.” She crossed the room and gave him an awkward pat on the arm, regretting even that much contact as her body sizzled at the touch. “What you’ve done here means a lot. Thank you.” Then, unable to resist, she stood on her tiptoes and reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek, yanking him down.

He stared at her in shock as she went to get her purse, rubbing his cheek thoughtfully as she suppressed a giggle.

She had no idea what she was doing. But since things were going to be awkward anyway, she might as well allow herself a little bit of fun.

It had been so long since she had any.

* * *

T
he rest
of the morning went by quickly for Char, with a large influx of people coming and going and cases that needed attention.

She was grateful for the distraction, though, since she wasn’t sure if she was ready to address what she’d done so impulsively back at her apartment. 

Every time Mark glanced at her from the piles of papers he was sorting and the myriad of windows he had open on his computer screen, she could feel her hairs stand on end, could feel his gaze trail along her like heat from a noonday sun.

By the time lunch break rolled around, she was starving from the combination of busy work and her own heart beating in her chest at the mere thought of him. When she went to the fridge to grab her typical lunch fare of a yogurt and some fresh fruit, Mark stopped her and insisted on getting something a little heartier.

A phone call and a few minutes later, some sandwiches and drinks were produced by a friendly delivery boy, and the two of them sat at her desk to eat.

Thankfully, the office was much quieter now, with only one or two of her coworkers still floating around the place, finishing things up before they headed out to eat like the rest had.

Leaving Char painfully aware of the fact that they were, for the most part, alone.

She could tell what had happened this morning was on his mind, too, but he was being a gentleman about it and not pressing the issue. Which ironically only made her more nervous about it.

But before either of them could dig in to the delicious-looking deli-laden sandwiches or drum up a conversation, Mark’s phone rang.

Reluctantly, he withdrew his cell from his pocket, then, with a fleeting expression of surprise, stood from the stool he’d pulled to her desk.

“Mind if I answer this? I won’t if you think I should stay here,” he asked quickly.

“Go ahead. You can use the back office if you want privacy. I’ll just be right here. It looks like things are pretty quiet at the moment anyway. Is it all right if I start eating, though?” she asked, both grateful for the slight reprieve of having to face the resulting awkwardness of her own actions this morning and a little sad to have him leave, even for just a minute.

“Please do. I’ll be very disappointed if you don’t,” he said with a grin that bared just the slightest flash of his perfect white teeth as he pressed his phone to answer the call and strode to one of the back offices to speak with whomever was on the other end, giving her a short but savory view of his perfect, tight ass in his jeans. 

Suddenly, she was hungry for something other than sandwiches.

Hoping to distract herself from her own thoughts, she bit into her bacon turkey club and enjoyed the delicious flavors in her mouth, which only partially distracted her from the thrumming in her body at wanting Mark near her again.

But before she could take another bite, she heard the sound of a door opening, then metal clanging on metal as it swung shut. Immediately, Char looked up to see who it was.

The center had only two primary entrances. The glass double doors at the front, connected to the street, that made up for the vast majority of any comings and goings during the day. On the other side of the room was a single metal door that led out into the adjoining alley and was mostly only used by employees working late after the main doors were locked.

But the man walking in just now was definitely no employee of the SWH.

Without hesitation, the stranger strolled inside, his body swaying slightly as he moved step by step into the place. His hair was brown and thinning, and his face was sullen and intense, his patchy beard only adding more to his disheveled look. The beat-up work jeans and olive windbreaker he wore looked like they hadn’t been washed in some time, and even across the room, she could hear the
thump-thump
of heavy boots hitting the floor ungracefully.

Char looked around and saw nobody else nearby and realized she needed to handle this quickly before any clients could come in. Random men off the street were certainly not welcome in a women’s refuge.

Calmly and professionally, Char stood up and began walking toward the man.

“Excuse me, sir, can I help you?”

Instantly, the man’s eyes locked onto her, sending a shiver up her spine as he glared at her undauntedly and walked in her direction.

“You work here?” he drawled as he came up to her. With each approaching step, the stench of hard alcohol became more and more apparent. 

“Yes, I do. I’m sorry, but if you don’t have an appointment, you need to leave,” she said coolly, straightening where she stood.

The well-being of the women the center helped and protected meant more to her than anything else in the world right now, and she wasn’t going to let some two-bit drunk off the street jeopardize that.

“Where’s my wife? I know you have her,” he said accusingly. 

“What do you mean?”

Ignoring her question completely, the man looked around him, wild-eyed, as if certain the person in question was hiding somewhere inside.

“Sandy! Where are you?” he yelled, the façade of worry in his words unable to hide the harshness of his tone.

Instantly, the name rang a bell. Sandy Forester was one of their newer clients and was currently staying at the shelter connected to their offices by an entrance at the back. Her story had been all too similar to many of the women who came in seeking refuge from a marriage or relationship gone wrong.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she told him plainly.

Instantly, his eyes zeroed back on her again, glaring at her accusingly, as if she were the sole person responsible for all his woes in the world.

“Don’t give me that. I know she’s in here somewhere. An old buddy of mine told me about this place. How you brainwash women into leaving their loving husbands,” he said, his speech slurred as he paced slowly closer toward her.

She thought about calling for Mark, but she wasn’t sure if that would set the man off more, and she was still fairly sure she could handle it.

“I don’t know who this friend is, but he’s mistaken. Now I’m going to ask you again. Please leave the premises or I’ll have to call the authorities,” Charlotte said, standing unwavering despite the man’s height and withering malice toward her.