Eventide of the Bear Page 17

  Perhaps he should follow his own advice and get his ass back to work. The south side construction site needed to be checked.

  But…first… Slowly he bent, cupped Emma’s soft chin in his hand, and held her for a carefully controlled, persuasive kiss. When her lips softened and opened, he plunged his tongue into the dark recesses of her mouth, savoring her taste, her willingness to participate.

  A shaking sensation recalled him, and he opened his eyes.

  Minette was silently laughing her little ass off.

  “You liked watching, cub?” he asked, tapping his finger on her adorable nose.

  She wrinkled it up, still grinning.

  “Well at least she appreciates the way I kiss,” he told Emma and surprised an amused snort out of her.

  He leaned down, nuzzling the little bear’s temple, feeling the brush of silky hair…and inhaling the interest in her scent. “And so do you, darlin’,” he whispered. “So do you.”

  *

  AFTER ASSIGNING THE newly arrived male wolf to attaching iron bars to the reframed window, Ryder paused to drink the tea Tullia had brought him.

  Tea. Complete with a pot and cup. Whoever heard of drinking tea on a job site? But she was so pitifully grateful and eager to repay their work that Ryder hadn’t been able to refuse.

  She’d told him her three mates had built the house an eon ago. Ryder scowled. Given the crookedness of…fucking everything…they shouldn’t have been allowed anywhere near a hammer.

  He and Ben hadn’t planned on messing around with the windows. But when Ryder’d attached an iron window guard, he’d realized a child could yank the screws right out of the dry rot. So he’d spent most of today removing windows and reframing them with solid wood.

  All of the construction work was going well. Ben’s two crews accepted direction well, and although he didn’t enjoy being crew boss, he could manage. Just as Ben managed handling the finances and payroll when needed.

  He smiled as he finished the last window and repacked his tools. Being partnered with his littermate was like pulling on a worn pair of jeans—nothing fancy, simply a good fit. Comfortable and right.

  Ryder walked out of the shabby house to see Ben kiss Emma. By the God, seemed Ben hadn’t hesitated to act on Ryder’s advice.

  His brother definitely wanted to mate with her.

  They were littermates; they’d share. Ryder felt…unsettled. He should have thought this all through before pointing Ben in her direction.

  Then again, maybe it was only his brain falling behind. Everything else in him—his body and his spirit—said the little bear was fucking appealing. Soft. Lush. The breeze carried her wildflower scent, and the sun lit her hair until she seemed to shimmer with gold.

  Ben nuzzled Emma’s cheek, gave a tug on Minette’s hair, and sauntered down the sidewalk, heading toward home.

  Ryder stayed in the doorway, watching as Emma tried to regain her composure. She looked a little dazed.

  He damn well knew the feeling. What did he want to do?

  Minette adored her—and no wonder. Even when Ryder’d been acting as if he had ice up his ass, Emma had remained sweet. And she was damned smart, the bard.

  And wary.

  Well, so was he, for that matter. He could see taking Emma to bed, but hopefully, Ben wasn’t thinking about lifemating her. Hooking their lives—their very souls—to a female? Maybe. Maybe not.

  “Hey, Ryder.” The call came from the south where Bonnie was coming up the sidewalk from town. The female was one of Zeb and Shay’s wolf pack, and she often took time to bring Tullia some food. Wolf packs took care of their own.

  Ben was teaching him how other shifters took care of the whole clan.

  “What’s up, Bonnie?” Ryder walked out to meet her.

  “I found those papers you wanted.” Bonnie handed him a manila envelope. “You really think you can get Tullia some assistance?”

  “Probably.” Partly as a result of their isolation, the Daonain tended to see “help” as being physical, not financial, and often forgot they were part of the United States. But they were shortsighted. He’d learned a lot in his years hanging out with humans. “We pay taxes to the government. A percentage of those taxes fund programs to care for the elderly and indigent. Tullia worked all her life. She deserves a break now.”

  “I totally agree.” Bonnie noticed Emma and walked closer. “I see she’s going to have flowers, too. Those will be beautiful.”

  Budding with gold flowers, small plants filled the bard’s market basket. Softhearted female. She knew Tullia didn’t get out any longer, only went as far as her porch.

  “Hi, Bonnie.” Emma fingered a tiny bud. “Another week and Tullia will be able to sit on her porch and see the blooms.”

  Ryder made a mental note to fix the porch swing.

  Ignoring Bonnie and Ryder, Minette patted Emma’s thigh and held up the tablet. She’d written a wobbly 6 under Emma’s drawing of six golden flowers.

  “Wonderful counting, kitten,” Emma said. “And you made a perfect six.”

  Minette beamed and set the tablet in Emma’s lap for her next task.

  “All right. People next.” Emma sketched a curvy female with braided hair, a male with jaw-length hair and a dark beard shadow, a bigger, clean-shaven male, and a child. “How many are in this picture?”

  Minette held up four fingers.

  “Exactly right. Four. Can you write the number?”

  Minette took the tablet. Her tiny mouth was a determined line, her thumb-sucking hand fully employed to hold the paper steady. He recognized that focus—his focus.

  He had a cub. The wonder of it still stopped him in his tracks several times a day. How had he and Genevieve created something—someone—so very special?

  “She’s a bright little sprite.” Bonnie said. “How old is she?”

  “Four.” Ryder’s throat was so tight the word came out hoarse. So many years where he hadn’t been there for her.

  “Only four?” Bonnie turned a speculative look at the girl. “How long has she been counting and writing?”

  “A week,” Emma and Ryder replied.

  Smiling at the pretty bard, Ryder continued. “Emma’s been working with Minette. Teaching her. Before last week, she could only color. Printing and counting past four is new.”

  “Amazing.” Bonnie studied Emma. “Why aren’t you a teacher?”

  “Part of my bard training was about education,” Emma said, “but the human law requires formal credentials for anything other than preschool or tutoring. I didn’t go to college.”

  Many Daonain didn’t attend college since being surrounded by humans and held to their rigid schedules was uncomfortable. But from the wistful look in Emma’s eyes, she would have gone. What had prevented her?

  He frowned. She’d had a rich mother who hired and fired cooks. If she hadn’t been caught singing—and questioned by the Cosantir himself—would anyone even know she was a bard?

  And she’d spent three years in the wilderness. She’d have barely been an adult, for fuck’s sake. Why would a talented shifter—a bard—isolate herself in such a way?

  Damned if he wasn’t going to get some answers from her. For now, he said, “You might consider taking classes, Emma. See how you do.”

  “I-I never thought about it.” Her confusion was adorable. Sometimes she was fully as cute as Minette.

  With a worried frown, Minette patted her thigh and received a kiss on the top of her head.

  Bonnie smiled down at the cub before glancing at Ryder. “I’m envious. My little terrors are about the same age and sure aren’t learning their numbers. It’s a problem, actually.”

  “Illiterate toddlers are a problem?” Ryder grinned, thinking she was joking.

  “I’m serious. Pack cubs are tended by single females. Other Daonain children stay home. There isn’t any consistent or proficient instruction. The lack wasn’t a concern in the past since human cubs were treated much the same.”

 
“And now?” Emma asked.

  “Now, most human children attend preschool, or have TV or computer preschool programs. Our cubs are behind when they start elementary school.”

  Ryder frowned, realizing Bonnie’s concerns would apply to his daughter. Damned if he’d let his child be behind anyone. “Guess I need to get Minette on the computer. I’ll check out some of those preschool programs.”

  “Relying on technology isn’t the answer.” Bonnie scowled at him. “Our children aren’t mindless trolls needing to be spoon-fed. They’re—”

  “They’re losing the race to the humans,” Ryder snapped, then winced. “Sorry.”

  Bonnie drew herself up straight. “I didn’t mean we should—”

  “Actually,” Emma interrupted, “I can see where a…judicious…use of computers might serve our people well.”

  Ryder stared at her. She agreed with him? A tradition-driven bard?

  Catching his astonishment, she flushed. “We live in a world filled with humans. With technology. If we’re not going to get destroyed, we need to be at least knowledgeable of their tools. There’s no reason we can’t employ the best of both worlds.” Emma’s golden-brown eyes were alight and her body seemed to hum with energy.

  As she and Bonnie discussed possibilities, Ryder studied the little bard. She was so fucking sincere. So open and easy to read, as if her years in the forest had driven any pretense out of her.

  She had a past where something not good had happened. Although he wanted to know, it didn’t really matter, did it? They were friends, and he damned well stood by his friends. If someone had caused her grief in the past, well, he’d shred them to little pieces for her.

  As Bonnie headed into the house, Ryder crouched down beside Emma, pleased with how she cradled Minette in her lap. Happy little kitten.

  “Tonight, we can look for some good software programs for Minette,” he said. “You’d know better than me what we should be looking for.”

  She tilted her head. “All right.”

  As he inhaled her soft floral scent, he lost the hold on his control and took her hand. Kissing her fingers, he felt the beginning calluses from the guitar and saw the small red spots from where she’d been spattered with grease while learning to cook. “Thank you for your care of my cub.”

  “I love looking after her,” Emma said.

  “I’d better get moving; I have another house to check on today.” He bent and kissed Minette’s soft cheek, then dared more and kissed Emma’s as well.

  When she stared up at him, speechless, he gave her a smile that promised next time he’d take her lips. “Later, bard.”

  “I…um, later.”

  As he headed away, he figured even when he was as old as Tullia, he’d still enjoy teasing the little bear…and winning her wide-eyed responses.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ‡

  ON TUESDAY, THE construction site reminded Emma of the bustle of an ant colony, each worker tending his job, almost oblivious to what his fellows were doing. The screech of a saw came from under a carport. Thudding noises came from inside the house’s new addition.

  Ben and Ryder stood at a table near their vehicles, examining an oversized paper. Architectural drawings, she decided as she crossed the lawn toward them.

  Ben spotted her first. “You going to join my crew, li’l bear?” He held out his hand.

  “Um…no. I…” It would be rude to ignore his hand. So she set her hand in his. The way Ben had kissed her outside Tullia’s home two days ago had been unsettling. Different from his lighter kisses. She sure wasn’t experienced, but his grip had been tighter and more…possessive. And he’d taken his time, surrounding her with his strength, his clean masculine scent, until everything inside her had gone all gooey.

  His fingers closed, trapping her in warmth. Over the past two days, he’d been going out of his way to touch her.

  “Want to see the house drawings?” he murmured, pulling her up to the table…and trapping her there with her bottom pressed against the edge, her pelvis against his.

  “I…” Under the hunger in his gaze, she felt as if the chill spring day had turned to the hottest day of summer. And he knew it, the beast. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

  “Doing what?” he asked innocently. Too innocently.

  “Touching me. Making me…flustered. Uncomfortable.”

  “You know why. We told you last night…after I kissed you goodnight.”

  Oh, she remembered. He’d done it right in front of Ryder and she blushed. Laughing, Ryder had decided she wasn’t comfortable being handled by males…and the two decided to help her get past her fears. She’d thought they were joking.

  “We worry about you.” Ryder stood beside her, and the sharp lines of his face smoothed out when he smiled at her. He took her free hand, opened her fingers, and put a kiss in the center of her palm.

  How could she feel a kiss travel from her hand all the way to her center?

  He was doing it, too. Were they trying to drive her crazy? “Why would you worry? I’m fine,” she said faintly.

  “You said you don’t do male-female stuff or attend Gatherings,” Ben said. He ran his hand under her braid and closed his grip around her nape.

  “We’ve noticed you look nervous…and your scent changes when the subject of Gatherings comes up.” Ryder took her hand, placing her palm over his jaw, scraping her palm over his light stubble. The sensation seemed to travel over her body in a wave until all of her skin zinged.

  “Like we said, we’re going get you used to being touched.” Ben leaned in and kissed her lightly.

  Her pulse was hammering. “Oh, so this is all for me?” she managed to say.

  Ben moved back, and then Ryder had her pinned against the table, his hand on her nape. “Oh, little bear, you know we’re enjoying the hell out of doing this to you.” His voice, so low and smooth, slid along the nerve endings he’d awakened.

  And he kissed her, his lips teasing hers, nipping lightly at her bottom lip until it softened. Holding her firmly, he deepened the kiss, taking her under.

  Oh my Goddess.

  He pulled her closer, one hand curving under her ass. He lifted his head a millimeter, his breath on her lips. “Yeah. I wouldn’t mind touching you all day long.”

  The thought sparked a fire in her center. And the feeling was terrifying. “No. I don’t want you to.”

  Ben rumbled a laugh and lifted her wrist, blatantly sniffing. Oh, yes, her interest in them was evident to anyone with a nose, as was theirs for her.

  When she inhaled their intoxicating scents, she wanted to put her hands all over them. Only being aroused by males hadn’t gone so well for her three years ago.

  “Hey, Ben. Got a minute—when you’re through there?” The call came from the house.

  “Guess we’re setting a bad example,” Ryder said. He looked down at her with a slight smile. “You’re definitely worth corrupting the lads though.”

  Oh, they made her feel so good. So…wanted.

  Nevertheless, they did have work to do. “I just came by to tell you Minette’s playing with Bonnie’s children at her house. I’m going to Angie’s Diner for a while.”

  “Got it. I’ll pick the cub up on my way home,” Ryder said. He brushed his lips over hers and released her.

  She had one second of freedom before Ben’s arms enclosed her. “Have fun, honey bear.” And he kissed her until every thought in her head drained out into the ground.

  *

  ANGIE’S KITCHEN WAS fragrant with mouth-watering scents. A roast beef and trimmings baked in one oven. Cupcakes were in another. As Emma stirred a thick, smoked ham and bean soup, she daydreamed a little about providing a wonderful meal for Ben, Ryder, and Minette. They’d all sit down at the oak dining table, and she could pretend they were her family.

  Of course, she certainly wouldn’t travel that path, but there was no law about daydreaming.

  When the swinging door sent the steam swirling over the
pot, Emma looked up.

  Angie and Bree had been restocking the glass cabinets with Bree’s newly cooked desserts. Bree walked through first, followed by Angie.

  “You doing all right there?” Angie asked Emma.

  “I’m getting hungry. This smells incredible.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Angie nodded toward the wall of ovens. “But I’m in the mood for dessert first.”

  Bree pulled a pan of cupcakes out to assess for doneness. The perfectly puffed cupcakes looked delicious. “See how the cake springs back, Emma? And how the tops are light golden-brown?”

  Emma watched, memorizing her words, the color. “Got it.” Since she’d gotten to lick the bowl after she and Bree had made them, she knew they’d taste fantastic.

  “After we whip up some frosting, you’ll be ready to practice making them at home,” Bree said.

  The males adored sweets—Ben, especially. Bears were sweet-o-holics.

  The thought of feeding her…family…something she’d made herself was thrilling. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me learn to manage in a kitchen. You’re sure I can keep coming?”

  “Honey, you’ve been a big help. Come anytime you’re free.” Angie’s forthright invitation made Emma’s eyes sting.

  She was useful. Liked. Wanted. “I will. I have Bonnie’s children and Minette in the mornings, but Bonnie wants to pay me back by taking Minette in the late afternoons after she gets off dispatch duty.”

  “Excellent. I can put you to good use,” Angie said.

  “Hey, Angie, I’m here. Want me to start taking orders?” A young brunette adolescent stuck her head into the kitchen.

  “Yes, Lacey. Get to work and let me know if you get behind.” After the girl grabbed an apron and popped back out, Angie said to Bree. “I’m glad you sent her to me. All her bouncy energy keeps the dining room lively.”

  “Actually, we appreciate you taking her on,” Bree said softly. “Shay’s been worried about her. It was bad enough that Klaus taught her to fear males, but now Chad and a couple of the Gerhard-influenced wolves are harassing her after school lets out.”

  “Bet they don’t pull any crap around Zeb or Shay,” Angie said in a dry voice.