Bearly Royal_Brion Page 14

  “It’s right over there.” She directed him to a hardware store on the side of the road.

  “This place?” It looked like a warehouse.

  “Yep. Lumber. Pipes. And I think they have vegetables in the back.” She laughed, jumping from the Jeep. “Come on.”

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He never noticed a woman fitting into a pair of jeans like that before. Her hips were round and her thighs were poured into that denim like nothing he’d ever seen. He licked his lips, and followed her into the hardware store.

  6

  Whitney

  She could feel his eyes on her ass. She knew he was watching her, stealing glimpses when she turned, observing her movements like one of his targets. The problem was it made her pulse race. Her core tighten in quick snaps. And her skin heat with an invisible fever. God, she hoped it was invisible.

  She knew what he was. He was just like Sam. A risk taker. A loner. He was a Ranger. She didn’t think they were made any other way. He was the kind of man she needed to stay far away from.

  He scowled at the stacks of lumber.

  “They don’t have the length I need. I’ll just get a bigger piece and cut it down.” He lifted one of the boards as if it weighed the same as a Popsicle stick and threw it on his shoulder.

  Whitney had to keep from dropping her jaw.

  “What else is on your list?” he asked.

  She tried to think about all of the projects, but she couldn’t stop staring at the way his muscles tightened where his arm met his shoulder. Good lord the man was ripped.

  “The gate latch,” she suggested.

  “Oh right.” He walked over to the hardware section.

  The board balanced on the ridge of his shoulder while he stooped to select a latch for the gate.

  “I think this will work.” He held one up for her to inspect.

  She nodded, realizing she would probably agree to anything he suggested. She thought it was because she had been cooped up too long in the house by herself. Maybe it was because his voice got under skin. It was low and firm. Rough and seductive.

  “Let’s get these and then I can come back tomorrow for the rest of the things you need.”

  “Tomorrow?” She looked at him. She didn’t know how long he was going to stay. And when he mentioned staying in the barn apartment she just went with it.

  “I told you. I’m going to get the house fixed for you.” He looked at her over his shoulder. “And anything else you need.”

  Kyle took the items to the register and reached for his wallet.

  “Oh no. You can’t pay for that.” Whitney tried to stop him. She had an account set up for the house repairs. There was less than a thousand dollars in it, but she could afford a latch and some lumber.

  “I insist. It’s part of the service.”

  “No. I can take care of it.” She fished in her bag for her debit card. It was in there somewhere.

  He shoved a credit card in the clerk’s hand before she could stop him again.

  She huffed. “Really? You won’t let me pay for it?”

  The kid at the register handed Kyle a receipt as he threw the wood over his shoulder, turning for the door.

  “I told you I’m here to take care of things. A promise is a promise.”

  “But it feels like charity. I don’t want to be your charity case.”

  She raced after him as he loaded the purchases into the back of his Jeep.

  “I can respect that.” He was actually considering her dilemma. She was surprised. “How about this? You could make dinner tonight.”

  “Do you know about the fire? The restaurant? Is that why you’re asking?” The mist was turning to rain.

  He ushered her into the passenger side, before sliding behind the wheel. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about. But if you don’t cook…”

  “No. No, it’s not that.” His eyes were on her and she had this sudden urge to tell him everything that happened to her in the past month, but that was crazy. He didn’t need to hear about the restaurant. “I’d love to make dinner for you. I can do that.”

  “Then we have a deal?”

  She nodded, but she had this sneaking suspicion she had just been lured into agreeing with him.

  Kyle had been working on the railing for the past few hours. It was starting to get dark and the storm had kicked up off the ocean. That was the best and worst part of the house. It sat on the edge of the cliff, giving you the feeling that you were floating right over the sea.

  Whitney peaked out of the door.

  “Any chance you’re ready for dinner?”

  He stood back to look at the rail. “Yeah. I need some of these pieces to set. I can take a break.”

  He followed her in the house, and she was aware of his eyes on her again.

  “Is there somewhere I could wash up?” He held up his hands.

  Whitney pointed the long hallway that ran the length of the house. “There’s a bathroom on the right.”

  “Be right back.”

  It felt strange waiting for him in the kitchen as if she was getting ready to start a blind date. But Kyle wasn’t her date. He was a friend of Sam’s. He was here to repay her brother for something. Something he wouldn’t share with her.

  She fastened a corkscrew to the top of a bottle of wine. She debated whether to open it, but she decided one glass wouldn’t hurt either one of them.

  “Here let me get that.” Kyle’s hands wrapped around her, taking the bottle from her. Her breath seized when his skin drifted over hers. The edges of his hands were rough and warm.

  “Thanks.” She watched as he eased the cork from the bottle. “I hope you like salmon and sautéed veggies.”

  His eyes lit up. “You don’t know how good that sounds.”

  He sat at the table, and she placed a plate in front of him.

  “No salmon where you were?” She sat across from him, depositing the wine on the table.

  He reached for the bottle and poured a glass for each of them. The slow glug sound of the wine echoed in the glasses.

  “No. I’m used to eating a lot of MREs. Not the best tasting meal. That’s for sure. I stopped thinking about food.”

  “Oh, are those things that Sam used to take camping?”

  “Probably so.” He stuffed the salmon into his mouth, grinning as he chewed. “This is the best meal I’ve had in years.”

  Whitney blushed. “No need to exaggerate.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m serious. I forgot how much I missed food. Real food. This is delicious.”

  Whitney blushed. “It’s nice to cook again.”

  “You don’t cook much by yourself?” He stopped eating and focused on her.

  “No. I used to, but ever since I’ve been here I’ve lived on canned soup and sandwiches.” She swore she wasn’t going to get into it, but she could feel herself lowering the wall.

  “You sound like a bachelor.” He held up his wine glass.

  She laughed. “I guess so.” She swallowed a bite of the salmon. “How long have you been back in the US?”

  “Only two weeks.” He took a big gulp of wine and she watched as he swallowed. The muscles in his neck were smooth and firm.

  “Did you go see your family?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  She stared at him. “What have you been doing for two weeks?”

  He loaded his fork with vegetables. “I had to do some in-processing. Debriefing. I can’t really share the details. Once that was complete I came straight here.”

  “Oh.” She saw the look in his eye. The blue hues darkened.

  “How long is your leave?”

  “I’m waiting on my next set of orders.” His eyes lifted to hers, and she felt her knees tremble. It was as if he could look right into her thoughts. “But I’ll make sure you have everything you need before I go. I can work quickly.”

  “If you need to go see your family, you should do that. I’ll be fine. The
porch is enough. More than enough. Now I don’t have to worry about anyone toppling over. I’m sure Sam would agree your free of your promise now.”

  “No. I need to be here.”

  It was the way he said it, that made her heart stop. His words were powerful and confident.

  “Thank you for dinner.” He stood to clear the table. “Let me help you clean up.”

  She sat while he shuttled the plates from the table to the sink.

  “Are you real?” she blurted the question.

  He turned toward her. “What do you mean?” He refilled her glass.

  “You fix things and clean the kitchen?” She giggled, inhaling half of the second glass of wine faster than she intended. She had to admit it was starting to feel like a blind date after all.

  “It’s a nice reminder.” He wedged the plates in the dishwasher.

  “Reminder of what?”

  “Of what I’m fighting for.” He threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

  “And what’s that?” She knew his tone had changed. She knew the atmosphere was thick. She knew she was drawing emotion from him, but she couldn’t stop.

  “Normal.” He leaned against the counter. His arms crossed, forcing his sleeves to widen against the strain of his biceps.

  “Normal,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “This. Late dinners with wine on rainy nights by the ocean. It’s something worth fighting for.”

  Whitney swallowed another sip, knowing it wasn’t the wine setting her blood on fire. It was him.

  7

  Kyle

  He stared across the kitchen. His bear wanted to wrap his arms around her and take her upstairs. Take her to bed. Take her to his kind of heaven. She was everything he fought for. Everything his bear needed. All he could think about was claiming her. But he crossed his arms, forbidding that to happen.

  God, she was his best friend’s sister. He couldn’t just tell her she was his mate. He had to fucking figure it out before he claimed her.

  “Thanks again for dinner.” He tossed the towel by the sink. “I think I’ll call it a night so I can get an early start in the morning.”

  “Oh right.” She jumped from the table. “I haven’t been in the apartment in ages. Let me get some things together for you.” She raced past him.

  “I don’t need anything,” he protested, but she returned with an armful of blankets and towels.

  “Here. I think this should be enough.”

  He wasn’t about to tell her he could sleep just as comfortably with his head on a rock. “Thank you.”

  He pulled the blankets against his chest, brushing her hand in the process. It felt soft and delicate. He almost groaned at the contact.

  “Oh, wait.” She rushed after him before he reached the front door.

  He turned, suppressing the growl that was rising in his chest. Her auburn hair fell over her shoulders in waves and her breasts bobbed just in front of him. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Run his hands over her skin. Run his tongue over her mouth and throat.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s no plumbing out there.” She grimaced. “Sorry. It’s the part that never got finished. Sam always thought he would get to it.” Her eyes filled with sadness and Kyle’s chest tightened.

  “Looks like another project to add to the list.”

  “You can use the guest bath down here.” She pointed into the darkness. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

  “Thanks.” He opened the door. If he didn’t get out of here, he wouldn’t be able to reel his bear back in.

  “Good night, Kyle.”

  “Good night, Whitney.”

  He climbed the stairs to the second floor of the barn. There was a light switch at the top of the staircase. The room was finished off, but he could see where the bathroom had been plumbed, but no fixtures were installed.

  He looked around the room. There was a single window at the end of the room. There was a bed pressed against the wall and a dresser on the opposite side. He dropped the sheets and towels on the mattress.

  He looked out the window. From here he could see the back of the house. There was a single light on upstairs. Whitney’s room, he thought. He lowered the blinds and turned toward the bed.

  Sleep. He needed to sleep. Hopefully it would quiet his bear, and all the feelings that had surfaced since he laid eyes on Whitney.

  He peeled his T-shirt over his head, and shrugged the jeans off his legs. His dog tags dangled around his neck as he flung himself chest down on the bed. Within minutes he was asleep.

  8

  Whitney

  Whitney crept downstairs. She thought she heard sounds coming from the back of the house.

  “Hello?” she called into the hallway.

  “Good morning.” The bathroom door opened and Kyle stood in front of her. Toothbrush in hand. Towel wrapped around his waist.

  Holy shit. She wanted to count every indentation on his stomach.

  “G-good morning,” she stammered. Her eyes stopped where the towel was tucked at his hipbone.

  The water rolled down his chest. The rest of his body was as gorgeous as his rugged face.

  Part of her thought yesterday had been a dream. Too much wine. Too much time alone. But here he was. Kyle was standing in front of her half-naked and wet.

  “Sleep ok?” he asked. He turned to spit in the sink.

  “Mmmhmm. How about you? How was the apartment? Did you freeze? Do you need more blankets?” She should have checked on him.

  “Great. Slept like a bear.” He winked at her. “Looks like there’s another storm coming today. What if I tackle some of the inside things? I can’t do as much in the rain.”

  She nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll make breakfast.”

  She left him to towel off and get dressed while she worked on breakfast. She would need to make a trip into town and buy groceries. But she had enough bacon and eggs to feed him. A man like that must eat a ton.

  She threw a few pieces of bacon in a frying pan. In a few minutes they began to sizzle. She started a pot of coffee.

  It was nice to cook. It felt natural and normal to make a meal for someone else again. She started to hum as she whipped the eggs in a bowl.

  “Smells good.” Kyle appeared in the doorway.

  She smiled. She couldn’t help it. It was raining and dreary and cold as hell outside, but she felt like there was something to be happy about with Kyle in the kitchen.

  “Want some coffee?” she offered.

  “I’ll take a cup.” He sat at the kitchen table.

  She poured coffee into a large mug and handed it to him. “I have a realtor coming by later today.”

  “Oh yeah?” He watched as she hovered over the stove. She added cream to the eggs and started whisking again.

  “I need to get things started to list the house. I have no idea what price to put on it. The property is several acres, the waterfront, the barn, and the house.”

  “Hmm. You’re sure you want to sell it? I’ve never seen anything like this place.”

  She turned to face him. “It’s too much work. I can’t take care of it by myself. It might be different if…”

  She wasn’t sure what would make it all change. If Sam had lived. If her parents were still here. If she had someone in her life to share all of this with.

  “You don’t have to explain. I get it.” He sipped the coffee and looked out of the bay window. “The view from here is amazing. Sure beats looking at the desert.”

  “It’s like we’re the only people in the world. It’s so isolated. I think that’s why my parents bought it. They wanted a refuge for Sam and me. Someplace we could go that would protect us from the rest of the world.” She poured the eggs into the pan. “I just wish he had been here more.”

  “I’m sure he wished that too.” Kyle’s voice was quiet.

  She pulled two plates from the cabinet and served bacon, eggs, and toast.

  “I don’t know if
I can believe that.” Every time she thought about Sam leaving it started the roller coaster of grief again. If only he had stayed.

  She sat across from Kyle.

  “I don’t know if this will make you feel any better, but your brother died doing something he loved.”

  Her eyes shot to his. “It doesn’t.” She instantly regretted snapping at him.

  She didn’t think she could explain how she teetered in her grief. One minute she was sad. The next furious, and then nostalgic with memories of Sam. It had been a month since she received the news her brother had died in Razastan.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Kyle finished his bacon and eggs and pushed back from the table. “I’m going to head to the store. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Need anything?”

  He paused in front of the kitchen door.

  Whitney shook her head. “No.”

  “All right.”

  He walked out. She heard his footsteps fade and then the front door close behind him.

  9

  Kyle

  He drove down one dirt road and then another before the tires hit pavement. She was pissed. Livid. Frustrated with her brother. Angry at the world for taking him. Kyle could see it. He could smell it. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  Her emotions were in her eyes. The same emotions he pushed down every day.

  He hit the steering wheel with his fist. He was angry too. He watched his best friend die. He couldn’t get there in time. He should have been able to save him. He was a fucking bear. What was the point of having strength and power if he couldn’t save Sam from that explosion?

  He pulled up to the hardware store and grabbed the list he had scribbled. He wasn’t going to let Whitney pay for any of it. He was going to make sure the house was perfect. Every nail. Every crack. Every seam would be perfect for her. Because when he had to leave again, he had to know she would be safe and protected.