I’m lying. The words shouldn’t sting, but they do. Which is ridiculous. I’m not looking for a woman either.
At least, I wasn’t. Not until she walked into my cabin with her curves and her fire and her perfectly cooked steak.
We eat in silence for a few minutes. It’s almost peaceful, sitting here with her. Almost comfortable.
Almost.
“Can I ask you something?” she says.
I grunt, which she apparently takes as permission.
“Why do you live alone up here? I thought bear shifters were clan animals. Isn’t it bad for you to be isolated like this?”
The question lands too close to the wound. I set down the bone I’ve been gnawing on and wipe my hands on my pants.
“I wanted time away from my clan,” I say shortly. “That’s all.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all you need to know.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment, and I can see the questions stacking up behind her eyes. The curiosity she’s trying to suppress. She wants to push. Wants to dig deeper.
She doesn’t.
“Fair enough,” she says quietly.
I push back from the table. “I’m getting ready for bed.”
“Oh.” She blinks, glancing at the dishes. “I’ll clean up, then. See you in the morning.”
I’m halfway to the hallway when I stop.
What the fuck am I doing?
She cooked me dinner. A perfect dinner. She cleaned my cabin, organized my pantry, mopped up my mess. And now she’s going to wash my dishes while I stomp off to bed like the ungrateful asshole everyone says I am.
I turn back.
She’s already reaching for my plate. The good little employee, cleaning up after the difficult client.
“Leave it,” I say.
She freezes. “What?”
I cross the room in three strides and take the plates from her hands. “Leave it. I’ll do it.”
“That’s... that’s my job.”
“I said leave it.” I carry the dishes to the sink and turn on the water, not looking at her. “Let’s just call it a night. Clean up in the morning.”
I can feel her staring at me. Confused. Maybe a little scared.
Good. She should be scared. I don’t know what’s wrong with me either.
“Alright,” she says slowly. “I’ll just... go to my room, then.”
“Good.”
