Alan waved absently behind his back. “Not unless you enjoy the finer details of estate taxes.”
“Kill me now.”
“Exactly how I felt this afternoon when I started with it.” And with that, Alan climbed the stairs to his bedroom, leaving Carl and Becca alone with blueberry pie.
A third of the pie was gone—probably what Alan had eaten—and Carl could easily finish the rest. But he figured it would be crass to eat the thing straight out of the pie tin. So he once again pretended to be civilized and got himself a plate. “Want any?”
“I had some earlier,” she said.
He paused, frowning down at the plate. He knew his brother. Alan took the missing chunk. “Did you make two?”
She shook her head. “Just the one.”
He set down the pie long enough to look at her hard. “Don’t lie to me Becca. It makes me nuts.”
She opened her mouth on a gasp, then slowly closed it. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
He did. “Because Alan probably pushed you to eat when you didn’t want it. So it’s easier to lie to me than go through that again.” He leaned forward, needing to press his point. “Except it isn’t easier because I can tell. Just say you don’t want it. I won’t force you.”
She nodded. “Is that a bear thing? Does my scent change or something?”
Yes. No. Her scent was a constant bouquet of temptation for him. It probably did change when she lied, but if he started focusing on her scent, he’d be hard and horny by the next breath. “Not this time,” he said. “But I can still tell.”
“I won’t do it again.” Then she gestured to the pie. “Want any ice cream with that?”
He didn’t care about the ice cream, but he didn’t want her leaving his side. Not yet. So he used the excuse to keep her near. And while she scooped, he looked at the laptop open on the dining room table. “Is that yours?”
“It’s Alan’s old one. He set it up for me. I’ve been catching up on emails and…” She shrugged. “Killing time, mostly.”
As hard as today had been for him, how much harder had it been for her just sitting around waiting for news? He’d texted when he could, but there were only so many variations on “Nothing yet. Hope for a lead soon.”
Still, he had to care for her somehow, so he pulled out an extra spoon and bowl for her. “Why not scoop a little for yourself?”
She shot him a glance. “You said you wouldn’t push.”
Oh, right. “It was just a suggestion.”
Her expression turned wry, but then she pleased him by taking the bowl from his hand. “Maybe a little.”
A few moments later, they settled down at the table, each enjoying the dessert. It was ridiculous how happy the domestic scene made him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so content at the end of the day. Certainly never after a day as bad as today. But then Becca started to shift uncomfortably in her chair. She opened her mouth twice as if to say something, but then abruptly shoved a spoonful of ice cream in instead. Clearly she wanted to talk to him, but wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. And given how happy he’d been a second ago, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to break the peace. But in the end, he had to know. So in the split second between one bite and the next, he gave her an opening in the most off hand way he could think of.
“You can tell me anything.” He smiled at her and wished for the thousandth time today that their morning after had gone differently. That he’d had time to hold her in his arms and wake her slowly in the way of a skilled lover.
She flushed and looked away. “It’s more of a question.”
He nodded. “So ask.”
“It’s personal.”
He huffed out a breath. Didn’t she get it? He’d give her anything she wanted and that included all the intimate secrets of his life. “Ask.”
“What’s it like to shift? Is it just you with a different body? Like putting on a different coat? Or are there other changes? Do you think like a man? Or…”
“Like an animal?”
She nodded. “I don’t mean to be offensive.”
He snorted. If she thought this was offensive, she hadn’t met any of the crass members of the community. “These are normal questions. The kids ask all the time. I just…” He shrugged. “It’s hard to explain.”
