Shit. Confession time.
"Because I’ve been out there before." I look her straight in the eye. “Not for the entire night, and not watching you, per se. After the hotel, and then when we saw each other at the station…” I sigh, unable to find the words to adequately describe the all-consuming impulse to go to her. “My bear wanted to see where you lived, just to make sure it was safe and that you were okay. Not like a weird peeping Tom thing.”
Her expression doesn’t change at all, and I have no idea what she’s thinking.
“It is a bit like a weird peeping Tom,” she quips, one eyebrow raised.
Okay, so that is what she thinks.
“It’s… instinct. I was pissed off with you, but he…” I throw my hands up, frustrated by the inadequacy of the words that are filling my head. “He craved you. Even if it was just to watch from a distance.”
Fuck. That’s it. She’s going to hit me with a restraining order. I should have kept my mouth shut. And I definitely shouldn’t keep talking and make things worse.
"Now that you're carrying our cub, he’s going to be unbearable. There’s no way he’ll let me go home tonight, not after seeing the scan. I'm going to be overbearing, Lisa. I'll try to keep a lid on it, but…" I swallow. "He wants to protect you, justlike I want to be here, with you. But I also don't want to crowd you. So… fuck, I don’t know. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it."
Her expression softens, her big, blue eyes glassy as she reaches out, taking my hand off the door frame, and pulls me across the threshold.
"Get inside, Beau."
The door closing behind me feels monumental. She’s letting me in.
The warmth of the house wraps around us as Lisa heads down the hallway, and I follow. Taking in the space, I run my fingers along the table, the rungs of the staircase to the right, the door to a downstairs bathroom.
There are quirky touches everywhere, hints of Lisa’s feisty personality that she doesn’t get to share every day in her very serious job.
My hand brushes along the hallway wall as I walk, and in the kitchen doorway, I grip the back of a dining chair as we pass.
Lisa stops and turns. "What are you doing?"
Stubbornly, I grit my teeth, but then, I relent. This is all part of letting her know what it’s like to be mated to a bear shifter.
"Scent-marking. Like I did in the woods out back." There’s no point lying. She’s a detective, she’s going to figure it out eventually. "Every surface I touch carries my scent. My bear is putting himself all over your home, so any other male will know I was here."
She laughs, but when I don’t join her, she stares at my hand on the chair. "You're serious."
"He’s obsessed with you. He’ll do everything he can to scare off competition." My eyes land on her shoulder, and a vivid image of my teeth sinking into the tender skin there fills my mind. The bite marks on her breast will have faded by now. He wants something more permanent.
"Beau, there aren't going to be other men in this house." Lisa’s not sure whether to be offended or amused.
"Damn right there aren't." I step into her space, crowding her, as the possessive growl that comes out of me surprises us both. My bear is practically vibrating, drunk on the scent of her home mixing with his own, claiming every surface.
Lisa's eyes darken, and the flush that creeps up her neck tells me my over-the-top possessiveness isn't having the negative effect I’d expected. Her fingers toy with the buttons of my shirt, and I pause, waiting to see what she does next.
I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed when she steps back, blinking hard to rid herself of the dizzying spell between us, before turning away from me without a word. She keeps walking, past the kitchen, past a small living room, and down a corridor lined with more photos.
“Come on.”
I follow, not sure if I should, but unable to stop myself.
When she stops at a door at the end of the corridor and pushes it open, the scent of her is so concentrated, my legs nearly buckle beneath me. Her bedroom calls to me like a drug. I want her, I want to take her on her sheets, to wallow in her scent and drown her in mine. Embed my presence in her life, her skin, her smell and her home.
Because apparently, her having my cub isn't quite permanent enough.
“I think I should leave.” I growl, aware my eyes must be glowing if the deep rumble filling the room is anything to go by. “I can’t trust… I’m afraid I’ll lose control.”
Clenching my fists, I close my eyes, forcing my bear back, but it’s temporary. If I stay here, he’ll keep pushing, and I can’t fuck this up by scaring her.
“I’d like to see that,” she purrs. “Would I get to meet your bear?”
