To Save A Bear Page 2

  “I feel like I should be flattered, but I’m not sure I understand. What’s so weird about my name?”

  “It’s just so manly. I’m not sure if I’ve ever come across a manlier name. Maybe Guy Dudeson is manlier. Or Chad Manfred.”

  ***

  Reid was amazed. The woman who had arrived on his doorstep had seemed small and insecure. Now, she was pointedly laughing at his name as if she’d never seen him drop a robber with one hit. She fell into step beside him, still laughing at her own joke while she carried her bedding. Reid had grabbed a plastic tub from her backseat that felt like it might be hiding a body.

  “What did you cram in this thing?” Not that it was all that heavy to him. Reid was used to lifting logs all day. He was more concerned that he might have actually invited a killer into his house.

  He wanted to believe that she was too cute and sweet to kill anyone, but it was hard to tell.

  “Oh, those are my books.” She cringed. “If it’s too heavy I can carry it. There are wheels on it, so you can, you know, pull it.”

  He laughed and tested the weight, bouncing it like it weighed nothing. Her brows rose, and lips pursed into a tiny moue. She clearly hadn’t expected it, and Reid took pleasure in surprising her.

  The pleasure, the sweet taste of happiness, hit him like a freight train. When was the last time he’d enjoyed anyone’s presence? With Boomer or Emmy, he tolerated them when he had to, grateful when he could slip back to his cabin. Something about this auburn-haired woman had prompted him to invite her not only inside, but to live with him.

  This wasn’t like him. Reid valued silence and serenity. Addison seemed unable to keep from talking. She was sound and color and all the things he worked so hard to avoid all his life.

  She ducked her head, hair falling to veil her face. He heard a small thanks come out from beneath that wall of hair and felt the pleasure curl through him once more. He was in deep trouble. Would he try to convince her to move with him when the crew had to leave? He couldn’t allow himself to become attached to her. There was a reason he kept himself separate.

  Addison paused inside the door.

  “The bedroom is this way.”

  Still, she didn’t move. Reid had to stop and turn, scanning the room and expecting a roach or rat, though he knew he didn’t have either.

  “You live like a damn monk!” She blurted the words out, never taking her eyes off the room.

  Reid looked at it with fresh eyes. There was a couch. A single side table. A folding table for eating. A lamp. He shrugged. What else did he need?

  “If I’d peered through the window, I would have assumed no one lived here. Do you actually live like this? Or, did you start packing and get the news that you had to stay longer? I just don’t get it. There’s no personality whatsoever. Not even a rug!”

  “Rugs just collect dirt.”

  The expression on her face was perplexed, even though she grinned. After shaking her head, she followed him to the closed door at the other end of the living room. Inside was a simple Queen bed and a dresser. He expected Addison to have something to say about the emptiness of this room, but when he looked at her, he watched her eyes grow wide and her jaw drop.

  It was the look of a child on Christmas morning. Reid couldn’t figure out why the single bed and dresser evoked such a look when his living room astounded her. Addison rushed forward, dumping her duvet on the bed before she went to the window.

  “This view is breathtaking!” Her awe lasted a handful of minutes as she stared at the town down below, the bell towers of the numerous churches rising above trees already starting to change colors. The narrow river that cut through town caught the light of the sun like a vein of glitter. To the right of that, the mountain woods stretched forward like fingers closing around the cabin, blocking out a portion of the town. Then, her shoulders dropped, and a sigh escaped her. Her hand moved over empty air as if she were touching an imaginary surface.

  Reid could only watch with a strange fascination. This woman was far more than he’d ever expected. Each time he’d visited the bank to see her smile, it’d been flat and empty. He hadn’t realized it until now. The smile that had taken over her face for the brief moment that she took in the view had been filled with radiance.

  “I came up here to write a book, but I don’t even have a desk. If I did,” she looked over her shoulder at him with a sorrowful smile, “I’d put it right here, so I could look at that view when I’m stuck.”

  “A desk? Just a surface that you can put a typewriter on?”

  Addison laughed. It was light to him, cleansing everything the damn beast inside him ever did. For a moment, Reid could breathe deep. He watched Addison climb atop the bed and pull her blanket toward her chest.

  “People don’t write books on typewriters anymore. Did you come out of the early nineteenth century? Do I need to find a time machine to send you back?”

  He ducked his head to hide the smile that snaked over his face. “No, but that might make a good story.”

  She fell back onto the bed. “Maybe. It would take a lot of work. Writing time can be tricky.”

  Reid left her working out a story, her hands in the air as if she were moving the parts of it around above her. The car she’d driven up the mountain was caked with rust. He could smell the oil leak from twenty feet away. How she got it up the hills was a damn mystery. He was careful when he opened the door to grab more of her belongings, hoping it wouldn’t fall apart beneath his hands.

  There was a suitcase and another bin, most likely filled with books, but there wasn’t much else. He dropped both onto the front porch before going back to pop her trunk. Inside was a collection of small tables and unlabeled boxes. By the time Addison appeared, he’d emptied the car for her. She opened her mouth but closed it again.

  She didn’t have to thank him. They still had to discuss rent. She’d quit her job, that much he knew. Writing a book didn’t pay. At least, not while she was writing it. Reid figured she would make a nice buck selling it, but until then she would be living off whatever savings she’d put away while working at the bank.

  He felt bad charging her anything for rent, but he didn’t want to make it look like he was seeking female companionship. If he charged her a minimal fee, she would feel less like she owed him something. That was Reid’s hope, at least.

  When he carried the rest of her stuff inside, she’d already made the bed and was in the process of hanging gauzy curtains. They fluttered in the breeze once she opened the window. Already, the room smelled of her. It was spicy, like cinnamon and maple syrup.

  She was breakfast, and Reid was tempted to devour her.

  Instead, he forced himself to take a step back. He wouldn’t invade her space. The doorway was a line he would never cross, for her sake.

  Addison paused. “Oh, man. I’ve practically moved in and we haven’t even discussed numbers.” The way she bit her lip and looked at everything she’d put out or hung up made Reid wonder if her funds were already minimal.

  “I don’t need help paying for the cabin. I already own it, so your rent will just cover your portion of the food. Does fifty dollars a month work for you?”

  Her eyes widened. His heart clenched when she ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck. He hadn’t been prepared for the touch. Just when he thought his bear would rear its head with a growl, another sound left him. It was like a purr. Reid didn’t know what to do with himself. He was so stunned between her hug and his beast’s reaction that he fumbled.

  Before he could hug her in return, she leapt away from him and reached for her purse. Addison brandished a fifty-dollar bill and thrust it into his hand, closing his fingers around it.

  “It’s a deal.”

  Chapter Three

  Reid looked dazed as he stumbled away. Addison watched him leave with a small amount of sadness sinking inside her. She wanted to call him back and learn his life’s story, to see what he could do with those rough hands she’d touc
hed only a moment ago.

  She took a second to wrangle her hormones before returning to unpacking. Even though she’d teased him for thinking books were written on typewriters, she carefully opened a box and lifted her vintage typewriter from it. It took a place of honor on her nightstand, surrounded by scented candles as if it were part of a shrine. Perhaps it was, a shrine dedicated to the one thing she’d always wanted in life.

  Addison had always loved books. She loved adventures that couldn’t be found in real life. In her younger years, she followed a bunch of kids into a wardrobe and dwarves into mountains through the pages of books because real life was a lot worse. Even though she’d dreamed of penning her own stories, Addison had chosen to get a reliable job just so she would have the funds to move away from her childhood home.

  No longer did she have to hide in her closet while her father went on a drunken rampage through the house and panic threatened to turn her inside out. She didn’t have to look at the spaces her mother filled in life and left empty once she passed away. The job as a bank teller had paid well enough for Addison to get her own small apartment in town. All her money went into paying for it, leaving her to buy secondhand furniture and used books.

  The last thing Addison had splurged on was her duvet. There had been a small pang of regret when she first bought it, but when it arrived she couldn’t have been happier. It belonged to her and her alone.

  Now, Addison knew she could no longer live the life she’d been stuck in. At any moment, someone could come and take it all away from her. The flash of that gun had shaken her and broken her visions of immortality. No longer could she tell herself she would write a book someday. It couldn’t be tomorrow anymore.

  It had to be now.

  Quitting had been terrifying, and yet freeing all at the same time. She would miss her coworkers and even some of her clients like the old woman with the purse covered in embroidered cats. She certainly would not miss some of the other clients.

  Finally, her stomach growled. Out of nervousness, she’d eaten nothing that morning, and decorating the sparse room had taken more energy than she’d realized. Carefully, she ventured out of her room. She might have already paid Reid for her month, and he’d clearly stated her money would go toward food shares, but she felt bad about taking food from his fridge.

  Though he’d seemed cold and distant when she waited on him at the bank, this version of Reid was different. It was almost like he enjoyed her company, though she could tell from his time in the bank that he didn’t enjoy anyone’s company. The burly man could barely stand people too close to him in line. She’d seen his grimace of discomfort and heard his growls before people backed away from him.

  She wondered what Reid and his crew did up in the mountain. She hadn’t bothered to ask him what he did for a living. He looked like a modern lumberjack, but Addison was convinced those didn’t exist anymore. It was all machinery these days. Right?

  One by one, she found the ingredients for grilled cheese. There were even tomatoes and bacon in the fridge. Her stomach growled in happy anticipation. Grilled cheese with tomato and bacon was her favorite. She didn’t know if Reid would like it, but she made him one anyway.

  Looking over her shoulder while she cooked, she realized Reid had disappeared. It wasn’t until she finished cooking both sandwiches that she heard the faint buzzing sound outside. Her heart flipped, and her head filled with images from horror movies.

  Chainsaws had always freaked her out. It wasn’t hard to do a lot of damage with a chainsaw. It did all the devastation for the wielder. What she found outside wasn’t what she expected.

  Reid stood over a miter saw, measuring the wood he’d just cut. She sat on the back step and reached for a sandwich as she watched him. He put his hands to work, measuring and marking lengths of wood. Addison wondered what it would become. It was just pieces while she watched, a puzzle she couldn’t put together.

  Eventually, he became aware of her presence. His head rose and slowly turned toward her. She was certain she hadn’t been chewing with her mouth open. There was no way he would have heard it over the roar of his saw even if she had been. Reid shook his head, and his pony tail flopped this way and that, like a wave of golden water.

  “Don’t you have a book to write?” He wiped his hands on a sawdust-caked rag as he approached.

  He’d lost his flannel, and sweat was beading on his brow. Addison could find no words. The sight of him took even the most minimal brain processing away. All she could do was lift the plate and thrust the extra sandwich in his direction. Her stomach immediately sank.

  “You probably don’t want to eat it with your hands like that. I should have waited. You’re busy. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”

  Reid laughed gently and took the plate from her. He inspected it.

  “It’s a grilled cheese.”

  “No, it’s not,” he grumbled. “A grilled cheese has bread, butter, and cheese. This has something else in it.”

  “That’s called bacon and tomato.”

  Reid’s head snapped up, face aghast. “Who puts tomato on their grilled cheese?”

  “You’re concerned about the tomato, but not the bacon? I see where your priorities are, caveman.”

  Reid laughed again. He still seemed unconvinced, but took a cautious bite of her sandwich nonetheless. For a moment, he chewed, and his expression remained unchanged. Then, he groaned with happiness.

  The sound tightened something deep in Addison’s core. A flood of warmth spilled between her legs and she had to quickly cross them. A simple sound had pulled that kind of reaction out of her. She’d only known Reid for an hour and a handful of work interactions. It hardly amounted to anything like this.

  Quickly, she forced herself up, snatching the now empty plate and turning away from Reid. He made a small sound around the food in his mouth, but Addie didn’t stop. Not until she’d locked her bedroom door behind her and crawled atop the bed with her laptop. With headphones in, she blared music until everything she’d felt melted away and her story appeared.

  ***

  In a flash of auburn hair, Addison disappeared. He couldn’t explain why his stomach sank or why disappointment filled the empty space. Unable to deal with the emotions coursing through him, Reid turned back to his project. Sure, it was his day off, but he needed to stay busy if he was going to control himself around the woman now living in his house.

  The beast, on the other hand, growled and grunted as it tried to pull him inside. It wanted to break down her door and take her on top of that cheery bedspread. The beast would make her howl with pleasure until she was boneless. Visions of their bodies curled together in the orgasmic aftermath filled his mind while he ran the sander over the plank of wood.

  Reid cleared his throat and expelled the images. She was nearly a stranger, just a vulnerable woman searching for a new life. He didn’t blame her after what happened the other day. Addison probably heard the gunshot in her dreams. For once, he found himself agreeing with that rookie cop. He could have saved Addison some trouble. Instead, he’d approached the man, and the gun had gone off.

  The least he could do was give her a safe place to live. Nothing would hurt her here. He would make sure of that. He could also give her the things she lacked, like a desk. It’d been a while since he put his skills to work. He could do more than drop trees and lift logs. Building the desk was like stretching muscles long unused.

  He worried about making it level, to keep her coffee from spilling. Writers drank a lot of coffee, right? He worried about getting the drawers to slide smoothly. No one wanted to fight against the drawer for a pen when brilliance struck. Reid just wanted to do the best job he could do for her.

  The bear whispered something, but Reid was too busy with the desk to listen. He refused to acknowledge the beast’s ramblings. The thing was more than enough trouble on any given day. With Addison so close, it was spiraling out of control. At least it wasn’t angry, yet. Anger made it stronger, mad
e Reid’s fight against it harder.

  Reid worked all day, keeping himself busy with the plans laid out inside his head. Work managed to distract him from the woman now making a home inside his cabin. When the sun started to set, he moved inside the shed and kept working until the moon was high overhead and he was fairly certain Addison would be fast asleep.

  He didn’t expect to find her wrapped in a blanket on the couch, laptop on the coffee table playing a movie. When he entered, her head spun around. There was a handful of popcorn on the way to her mouth. The image was so sweet that it made Reid yearn for more. He would have given his right foot to see this every time he entered the house.

  “Am I invading your space? Do you need time to unwind? I’m so sorry. I’ll get out of your hair.” Addison lurched up and moved to close the laptop.

  “No!” Reid blurted out. He snapped his mouth shut, jaw clenched to keep himself from going on like a foolish idiot. “No,” he said, softer this time. “What are you watching?”

  “Just some old Golden Girls episodes I had recorded. My head felt a little empty after all the writing I did earlier, so I thought I’d fill it with something.” She twisted to sit with her hands gripping the back of the couch. “Sometimes I watch documentaries to fill the empty space. I watched a funny one the other day that tried to convince viewers that pirates were aliens. It was a riot.”

  Reid laughed, despite himself. He should disappear into his bedroom. He should ignore her and leave her be. Instead, he grabbed a beer and sat down on the other end of the couch. It was as if they both became aware of the proximity of one another. Addison froze, a rabbit in the headlights. Reid’s bear growled through him.

  It was hungry, starving for what only Addison could offer. His gaze dropped to her mouth. She chewed on her lower lip again and filled him with jealousy. He wanted to taste that lip, to nibble it for her.

  Reid shook himself and took a swig of his beer. It seemed to break the spell over Addison, too. She spun and sank into a fluff of blanket and hair. Reid gestured to the computer with the beer bottle, silently telling her she could turn it back on.