Hunt (The Grizzly Brothers Chronicles Book 1) Page 5

  “I am. I moved to Philadelphia for college, but I grew up on a farm.”

  “Well then there’s a small chance you’ve had better, but Davie’s is the best I’ve ever had.”

  “I’ll have to let you know what I think.” I liked Lauren, and I had a feeling I’d be taking up her offer for her brand of friendliness.

  10

  Ian

  Mara licked her ice cream. She used her tongue to taste each bite the way a little kid would. It was cute and nothing like the giant bites I took of mine.

  Ice cream wasn’t my thing. Nothing but meat was, but I could blend in, and I figured I’d weird her out if I didn’t have any. But by the way she focused on making sure not a single drop of her ice cream dripped from the cone, I wasn’t sure if she’d even notice.

  “How is it?” I tossed the wrapper of my now disappeared cone in the garbage.

  “Delicious.” She licked around the cone again.

  I watched her tongue and couldn’t help but imagine what other things that tongue could do. “Better than what you’ve had back home?”

  She glanced over at the counter as if to make sure Davie wasn’t listening. “Not as good, but close.”

  I laughed. “I guess that’s saying a lot.”

  “It is. I have high standards.”

  “Are those high standards only about ice cream?” I still knew nothing about her past relationships, and I wanted to know. I wanted to know who else had gotten close to the girl who would be mine. I’d fully made up my mind back at my place. No one else would ever have her.

  “No.” She smiled coyly before returning her attention to some ice cream about to drip off the cone. “By the way, Lauren wasn’t kidding about the names.”

  “You mean you don’t think Chocolatey Chocolate and Minty Mint Chip are original names?” I teased.

  “Oh they’re original all right.”

  “Not everyone can be Ben & Jerry’s.”

  “I’m not concerned about the name. It’s the taste that matters.” She licked around her cone again.

  “Isn’t that always the truth?”

  She blushed. It was that sexy blush that made me want to close the distance between us.

  “Ok. No more talking. You need to finish that cone so we can get back to Mrs. Peterson’s before the flowers are delivered.”

  She took another long lick before tossing her half-done cone. She stared into the trash can longingly.

  “I didn’t mean you had to toss it out.”

  “You’re right though. We have to get going.” Her voice was sad. The girl was legitimately upset that she didn’t get to finish her treat, yet she tossed it so she wouldn’t let an old lady down. Mara was something else.

  I held open the door, and we headed out to my truck. The drive back to Mrs. Peterson’s was a silent one, but it was a comfortable silence I didn’t mind. We made it back, pulled out Mrs. Peterson’s garden tools, and got to work on the flower bed.

  She set to work immediately, careful to divide up the new flowers evenly between the two of us. Before long we were planting the last two.

  I reached over and wiped a streak of dirt off her face.

  She smiled. “Oh. Thanks.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Impressed that I managed to get dirty planting a few flowers?” She wiped her brow.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Impressed that you didn’t mind getting dirty.”

  “I don’t mind dirty things.” She blushed again. Man, I was going to have to keep making that happen. It lit up her whole face, including her eyes. “And obviously I’m only talking about this kind of dirt.”

  “Gotcha.” I winked. “I wouldn’t assume anything else.”

  “Weren’t you supposed to be the gentleman?”

  “I am. We’re talking about gardening, right?”

  “Right.” She smiled and looked away.

  “I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Another?” She looked up.

  “Another?” Then I remembered. “Oh, this one isn’t about my family.”

  “Ok. What is it?”

  I pressed the dirt down around my final plant. “Mind if I use your shower?”

  “My shower?” She put a hand to her chest.

  “I have a change of clothes in the truck, but I can’t exactly go to Mrs. Peterson’s for Sunday supper with dirt on me.”

  “There’s no dirt on you.” Mara frowned.

  “Not as much as is on you.”

  “Nope.” She looked down at her clothes.

  “I still should shower.”

  “Then, uh sure. No problem.”

  “Thanks. I would go home to do it, but as you saw earlier it’s a bit of a drive.”

  “Oh, I know.” She stared up at the sky. She seemed to do that a lot.

  I probably could have skipped the shower, but Mrs. Peterson would have gotten annoyed, besides, this might be my one chance to get inside that cottage.

  “I can’t promise you’re going to like what I have.”

  “What you have?” I tried to catch what she was talking about.

  “Yeah, my bath products and stuff.”

  I laughed. “All I need to do is rinse off, Mara. I’m not asking for anything more.” At least not yet, and what I was going to ask for would have nothing to do with bath products.

  “Ok. Well, let me find you a towel then.” She stood up and dusted the dirt off her shorts and legs.

  “You probably need a shower too.” I reached out to wipe some dirt off her arm but thought better of it.

  “I already had two today.” She shrugged. “I can wait.”

  “Two?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced over her shoulder. “One to warm up after getting stuck in the rain. And another.” She hesitated as if deciding whether to trust me with some sort of information.

  “What was the other shower for?”

  “Nothing like you’re thinking.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “And what am I thinking?”

  “I don’t know, but nothing good.”

  “If you don’t know, then how can you decide whether it’s wrong or right?” I gave in and wiped the dirt off her arm.

  She glanced at the spot where I’d touched her. Had she felt the jolt? She hadn’t seemed to the other times. “I can make a pretty good guess by the look on your face.”

  “What kind of look do I have on my face?” I ran my hand over my chin.

  “It’s gone now, but it was there.”

  “All right, why don’t you find me that towel you promised me?”

  “Sure.” She piled up the trowels and hand fork we were using.

  I helped and carried them back toward the shed where we’d found them.

  “Thanks for the help.” Mara tugged down on her tank top. “You really didn’t need to.”

  “You’re going to pay me back.”

  “How? By letting you use my shower?”

  “No. I thought that was part of the deal of helping.”

  “Then what do you mean?” There was a nervous edge to her voice.

  “The Beet festival,” I reminded her. “Or did you forget you promised to go with me?”

  “People usually go to this festival with someone?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Yes. Well, past being kids.”

  “And you’re absolutely sure there’s going to be no angry girls after me as a result?”

  “Well, I can’t promise that completely.” I grinned.

  “I bet you’ve broken a lot of hearts.”

  “Are you worried about me breaking yours?” Any answer she’d give me would be an interesting one. I wouldn’t break her heart, but I was going to take it.

  “No, because you’re not going near it.” She turned her back and headed toward her house.

  “Ouch. That’s cold.” Colder than she would have thought. And all it did was cement the decision I’d already made.

  “Not cold. You only asked me to be nice. You’re s
aying this is paying you back, but you’re really still trying to help me. I get it. And I appreciate the help.” She pushed opened the door.

  “Is that what you think?” I followed her inside and closed the door behind us.

  “Yes. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate the friendly attention, but it’s really unnecessary.”

  “Friendly attention?” I asked.

  “Yes. It’s very friendly.”

  “It’s not friendly.” It wasn’t friendly at all. I stepped toward her slowly until her back was pressed against the door I’d just closed. “There is nothing friendly about the attention I’m trying to pay to you.” I leaned in with my lips inches from hers. If I moved a fraction of an inch I’d be able to claim the lips I’d been waiting to taste from the moment I met her. “And the attention I’m going to be paying you in the future will leave no room for that confusion. I can promise you that.”

  She moistened her lips, and that undid me. I pressed my lips against hers, hungrily taking in the taste. I pushed for access to her mouth, and she opened up to me. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against me. She tasted and felt even better than I’d expected.

  She pushed against my chest gently, and I snapped out of my daze. I released her and took a step back.

  She stared at me with wide eyes. “Uh, the towels are in the hall closest by the bathroom. This place is small, I’m sure you can find them.” She hurried outside, and I wondered if I’d screwed everything up. I started to follow her out, but I stopped myself. I needed a cold shower before I faced her again.

  Mara was right. The cottage was small. I found the linen closet on my first guess and grabbed the top towel. I passed by her small bedroom and peeked in. Her bed was perfectly made, and the purple comforter seemed like exactly the sort of thing she’d pick. I stared at her bed longer than necessary. It was impossible not to imagine slipping into that bed with her. I shook myself from those thoughts. I’d already let my bear side get me in trouble once with her.

  I reached the small bathroom and turned on the cold water in the shower. It was the only thing that was going to get me through the rest of the evening. Every moment I spent with Mara made it harder to keep my hands to myself. She called to me like a drug, and I knew the feeling wasn’t one sided.

  She’d feared me a few moments before, and I hated that. I never wanted her to be afraid of me—even if she should have been.

  I let the cold water flow over me until I’d calmed down. Then I got out, dried off, and realized one important thing. I’d forgotten to grab my change of clothes from the truck. I prepared to put back on my dirty clothes when I noticed a piece of paper under the door.

  I realized you forgot your clothes, but I heard the water on already. Your truck was unlocked, so I got your clothes. They are outside the door.

  -M

  I opened the door, hoping she was still around, but the hall was empty. My clothes were neatly folded in a pile.

  “Mara?” I called out her name.

  No answer. I closed the door to the bathroom, very much disappointed she hadn’t delivered the clothes in person.

  11

  Mara

  His intentions weren’t friendly. At least that’s what he said when he backed me back against the door and kissed me like no man had ever kissed me before. Normally I’d have kicked a guy for cornering me like that, but strangely I didn’t with Ian. I’d just stared before running off like some scared little animal. I’d enjoyed the kiss. I’d opened up to him eagerly, and it had taken effort to make myself break the kiss. He may have started it, but I’d been a very willing participant.

  I still couldn’t quite believe he was using my shower. Sure he had some dirt and sweat, but he could have washed his face and changed. But if I’d been in his position I’d have wanted to rinse off. That’s all it was. It’s not like he’d tried to get me to join him. An image of doing just that flooded me. My whole body warmed, and I tried to surface from the vivid daydream that was so out of character for me. I didn’t understand it. Handsome faces equaled heartache I reminded myself. And those kinds of lips equaled even more.

  I paced around outside until I remembered he’d wanted to change, and he’d never gone to his truck to get his clothes. I walked down to where he’d left his truck and opened the door. Evidently people didn’t lock their doors in Crestview. I’d grown out of that habit years ago.

  I pulled out the crisp navy shirt and khakis and carried them back up to the cottage I was staying in.

  I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Peterson and hurried over to the cottage to drop off the clothes before she could make any misinterpretations about the situation. I jotted down a quick note and slid it under the door before running out of the house. The last thing I needed was to bump into Ian in a towel. The images were vivid enough already without having more details filled in.

  I still needed to get myself ready. I’d readily let him shower first because I was so surprised by his question. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too long.

  “Mara!” Mrs. Peterson walked up the drive.

  “Hi Mrs. Peterson.” I walked down the gravel part of drive quickly to meet up with her.

  “Is Ian still here?” She looked over at his truck.

  “Yes. He wanted to take a shower before dinner.”

  “Oh, ok.” She eyed my cottage. “He should have used my guest bath.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to put you out.”

  “But where will you wash up?”

  “I’m waiting. He can’t take too long.”

  “Did you two have a nice afternoon?” Her expression was blank, but I got the sense her interest went beyond being polite.

  “It was nice. And we finished with your flowers.”

  She smiled. “I heard you’re going to the Beet Festival together.”

  “Oh.” I’d been right about small town gossip. “That news traveled fast.”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it. “I want to talk to you about that.”

  “Ok.” I waited anxiously. She’d been the one to suggest Ian and I spend time together, so surely she couldn’t be upset I’d agreed.

  “Ian is a good boy.” She took both of my hands in hers. “Our families go back a long way.”

  “Yes, you mentioned that.” Evidently the length of a family’s roots in Crestview mattered to her.

  “But others will argue that he’s no good.”

  “Oh.” I hid my surprise. So far everyone seemed to be big fans of his. “Yeah, you can’t make everyone a fan.”

  She looked right into my eyes. “Listen to your heart and not the gossip.”

  My heart? Yeah, I wasn’t worried about that. “He’s just being friendly. There is nothing to worry about either way.” The kiss had been intense, but it was only a kiss. It wouldn’t happen again.

  “I may be old, but I’m not stupid, honey.”

  “Oh, I never said—”

  “The man’s interested. He thinks he can pull one over on me, but my guess is he came over here just to see you in the first place. He probably caught a glimpse of you in town earlier. The men of his family subscribe to the love at first sight philosophy.”

  “It certainly wasn’t love at first sight.” I remembered his frown.

  “Love can come in a lot of different packages.”

  “Different packages?”

  “Yes.” She nodded solemnly. “It isn’t always the way they make it seem in the movies and books.”

  “You read romance books?” I asked with genuine surprise.

  “Does that surprise you?” Mrs. Peterson winked.

  “No.” I kept putting my foot in my mouth.

  “One doesn’t lose their interests just because they are older.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting that. It’s just—”

  “Just what?”

  I wasn’t going to get out of it. I’d said too many wrong words already. “With all your rules about male guests, I assumed it.”

  “You assumed
what exactly?”

  I threw up my hands. “Nothing. I have no idea how to talk my way out of this one.”

  She laughed. “Those rules are for your protection as well as mine.”

  “I don’t believe I violated any by letting him shower, right? That doesn’t count as a male guest?” I really didn’t want to have to look for another place to stay after getting thrown out of her place. I’d probably be blacklisted and end up at some seedy hotel on the outskirts of town. If those kinds of places even existed in Crestview.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Ian is a good man. Remember that.”

  “Ok.” I nodded. “I will.”

  “I’ll see you for dinner.” She smiled at something over my shoulder, and I watched Ian descend the porch steps.

  He was grinning and carrying his dirty clothes. “I got your note.”

  “I see.” I pointed to the paper he clutched in his hand while trying to ignore his wet hair and thoughts of the kiss.

  “Ian,” Mrs. Peterson interjected. “Finish thanking Mara and then come on inside. I need your help.”

  “Ok.” He waved as she disappeared back toward her house. He leaned in. “She’s making sure I don’t bother you while you shower. By the way, sorry for going first. I know you told me to, but that was rude.”

  “No it’s fine.”

  “Is everything fine?” His eyes searched my eyes for something.

  He had startled me. But he’d also thrilled me, and at the moment the thrill was what was winning. “What was that?”

  “The reason you probably should stay away from me, but why I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “Do you realize that makes you sound scary?”

  He grinned. “I bet.”

  “Yet, you said it anyway.”

  “There’s a lot more to Crestview than meets the eye.”

  “I know what small towns are like.” I’d spent the first eighteen years of my life in one.

  “Not all small towns are the same.”

  They were. Of course the people were different and the names of the stores, but underneath it all, they were the same. “If you say so.”

  “Why are you here?” He adjusted the clothes in his hands.