One in a Bear-llion (Polar Heat Book 3) Read online

  “Could you even help it?” Scott asked. “When I was with Mara…”

  His father shook his head. “She made me happy.”

  “Until she made you miserable and ruined our lives.”

  “She gave you life,” Sam said. “That’s all you need to know. Not all shifters stay together. Some are more wild at heart. She promised to be my mate forever. But not all can keep that promise. When she disappeared, it tore me apart. But we hadn’t made promises. I had made assumptions. That she would want to stay with her sons. I hadn’t realized how wild the animal was inside her. I hadn’t realized it was torture to be tied down. She was my mate, and I loved her with my life, but she gave me far more than she took.”

  “How can you say that?” Scott asked, torturing his hair. “When you know how much she messed us all up?”

  “It’s your choice to be messed up or not,” Sam said. “It has tortured me for years as I’ve tried to find your mother. I don’t even know if she’s alive out there. But I knew there was a chance she could run when I met her. At the time it didn’t matter. She was it for me. But no one gets promised a certain amount of time with those they love. We just have to take what we have. You can say I made a mistake being with her, but you wouldn’t be alive to say that if I hadn’t.”

  Scott was silent then, and Sam sat back with a heavy exhale of breath. What else was there to say?

  “This girl, this woman you’ve mated, what’s she like?” he asked.

  “She’s soft. Gentle. A talented artist. She’s in trouble,” Scott said. “It started because I wanted to protect her.”

  “How does she feel about it?”

  “I think she wants me. A part of me feels like she trapped me, but I know that’s not the case. I trapped myself.”

  “Or was it just that your bear knew what was best for you and helped you achieve it before the stupid, broken human in you could take it away?”

  Scott’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “Or maybe I just fucked up.”

  “I’ve never known you to be careless, son. If anything, you’ve always had too much control. In fact, this week you’ve taken more time off work than you have in ten years. That says something.”

  “Like what?”

  “That you enjoy being with her. How did you end up mating her anyway?”

  “I was trying to just take her to Cove House to help her let her bear out.”

  “Ah, and then what?”

  “One thing led to another,” he grated out.

  “You mated her. Does that really sound like you? To be so careless? To me, the fact that you took her to Cove House tells me that deep down, somewhere you weren’t ready to acknowledge, you knew exactly what what was going to happen there. You wanted it to happen.”

  * * *

  Scott froze at his father’s words. Something about that rang true. Something about it also made him want to run.

  Maybe he’d always been running. It’d just been easy to ignore it because he’d felt so productive, felt like he was doing something, even as he watched a normal life pass him by.

  He eyed his father. He couldn’t really face the lie the man had been living with. Couldn’t address it right now, or maybe ever. He needed to focus on Mara, so he simply gave his father a nod and walked out.

  A few moments later, he found himself on the beach, looking out at the ocean. He liked to walk along the shore at night, making sure guests were in and safe.

  It was also his quiet time, his time to think.

  Right now, all he could think about was the feel of Mara’s luscious, soft body in his arms. How fun it had been to play with her bear. How right it had been for them to be together.

  Maybe his father was right.

  But maybe his past was still going to hold him up if he tried to be with Mara. He realized now how locked up inside he was. How tightly he’d had to suppress all his emotions just to keep his family alive. But the question was how to let it all out now, when Mara needed him to.

  He wasn’t a monster. He felt he could make a good mate. He had a beautiful home, and he could already imagine raising cubs with her there. They could travel wherever she wanted to paint.

  As he thought about it, he found himself walking in the direction of her suite.

  When he saw her step out with a taller, curvy woman, both of them smiling and talking, his stomach dropped to the soles of his shoes.

  She was beautiful, wearing a silky, colorful wrap over a swimsuit, curvy legs revealed and glowing in the late sun. She was setting a painting on an easel and smiling with pleasure.

  The sight shook him to his core. This was happiness. This was what he wanted. But it was like looking at a buffet, not being able to reach it because it was behind a glass wall.

  But he wanted so badly to smash through and be with her fully. He just didn’t know how.

  The women turned to look in his direction, and Mara’s eyes met his, hesitant and curious.

  The pity in the other woman’s eyes told him he must look as desperate as he felt.

  “Can I talk to you? There’s something you don’t understand,” he said, wanting to talk to her away from anyone else. It would be hard enough to say only to her, let alone to anyone else.

  Mara exchanged a few words with her friend and then turned to him with a shrug. “Sure.”

  His heart beat double time as she walked out to meet him. Damn, she was amazing.

  He resisted the urge to put an arm around her as they walked to the ocean’s edge. It was getting cooler and he found himself needing to get closer to her warmth. But he had no right to, not yet.

  “So you’re painting again?” he asked.

  She nodded. He could almost feel the joy radiating from her, and it made him happy, despite everything else that was going on at the moment.

  He turned her to him, rubbing her shoulders lightly. “Can I have one of the paintings?”

  She blinked. “Oh, right, to lure him in.”

  He nodded.

  “I was thinking. Do we really have to bring him out to this island?” She hunched slightly, not meeting his gaze. “I’m just enjoying being able to paint again, and I don’t want to think about him being close.”

  He put a gentle finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “Mara, I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

  She held his gaze for a moment and then turned away, breaking the contact. She brushed off his hand and began to walk in the surf again, letting it just brush over her feet as she went. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked. “Just your next plan of action for catching him?”

  “No,” he said. “Though it did come to mind when I saw the painting.”

  “I really don’t think he’ll be a problem until I go back to New York.”

  His heart thumped. She couldn’t go. “Mara, I’m sorry for what I said the other night. I was overwhelmed.”

  She turned on him, eyes flashing. She was so much smaller than him, but damn could she be intimidating when she wanted to. “And you think I wasn’t?” She put a hand to her chest. “This is complicated for me, too. And you know what? I talked to my mom, and this thing between us… it’s permanent. But I have no idea what you want from me. You say you want to take responsibility, but what does that even mean? You say you can’t love me, so do you want me to just go back home?”

  She shook her head and looked down, and when she looked back up, she was calm again. “But the thing is something about what we did opened up something inside me. I can paint again. I can’t say how happy I am that it’s finally possible.”

  He nodded, throat tight. Speak up, stupid. Tell her you don’t want her to leave. But the words wouldn’t come.

  Love me, she was saying. He couldn’t.

  “I want to make you safe,” he said. “It’s the least I can do.”

  She frowned. “Safe? What, so I can walk away from you without you feeling worry or guilt? Is that enough?”

  Hell no, he thought. But onc
e again, it was a thought he couldn’t force out.

  “Give me a painting, and I’ll catch him. I’ll make sure he never bothers you again, and I won’t let him hurt the painting either. Give me a painting, and I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  He could tell from her angry expression that this was going all wrong.

  “What if I say no?” she asked.

  “Then I would keep you here on the island,” he said. “I’m not letting you go back to New York with that psycho on the loose.”

  “It’s not your choice,” she spat. “It’s mine. It’s my life, and I’ve been dealing with this a long time on my own. I don’t need some guilt-ridden male to take my life into his hands as a way of apologizing for not wanting me.”

  I do want you. “I see.”

  She seemed to be waiting for him to say something, anything. But the glass wall was up. He could feel things, but he couldn’t make them reach her. And she was going to walk away. And there was someone out there who wanted to hurt her.

  She might not want him for a mate, not with how broken he was and how little he could offer, but he couldn’t let her go like this.

  “I know I’m not the man you wanted, Mara. I’m sorry. But I can promise you this. I’m not letting you go until that man is dead or incapacitated. So you better give me a painting so I can get this over with.”

  She glared at him. “So I give you a painting, you’ll take care of him, and then I’ll leave?” she asked.

  His throat was tight. He didn’t want her to leave, but if agreeing were the only way to get the painting and ensure her safety, he would do it. He nodded slowly.

  Her face tightened in pain. What had she wanted him to say? “And what should I be doing while you do this? Waiting as bait?

  “Never,” he said. “I’ll take care of this. You do what you want. I promise you won’t have to do anything. I’ll ensure you aren’t even involved. I promise.”

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He didn’t know how to make her happy. Well, he did, but he couldn’t do it.

  “Fine. Wait here.” Then she stormed off in the direction of her suite. When she came back, she thrust a painting at him, and he caught it. “I did this one this morning. It hasn’t been varnished, but I guess it doesn’t matter because it’s going to be ruined anyway.”

  He frowned and held it carefully. He looked down at a beautiful sunrise, full of pinks and purples and an uplifting, hopeful feeling. It was the feeling he had when he looked at her. “We’ll get it varnished,” he said. “Nothing will happen to it.”

  She shook her head. “Something to remember me by? Something to remind you not to make mistakes like that again?” She blinked, and he saw angry tears welling in her eyes. He started toward her, but she put up a hand, a clear warning to stay back. “Fine. I guess let me know when it’s finished.” She turned and started walking away.

  Go get her. Run after her. Do something!

  But he just stood there, sagging, holding the beautiful evidence of her talent and goodness. “I’ll take care of this, Mara. I promise.”

  She gave him a sad nod over her shoulder and then kept walking. He looked down at the painting he was holding. He could never make something so wonderful.

  But he could protect it.

  He made plans as he walked slowly back to his room.

  9

  Mara buried herself in her painting for the next few days while she waited for Scott to come to terms with everything that had happened.

  When he’d called her out to talk, she’d hoped he’d resolved some of his feelings. But no, he was still hiding from her, still bent on revenge and protection and making it so she could leave.

  She guessed he was probably going to solve this so he could let her go back to New York without having to worry about her. After all, if he didn’t love her, what was the point of keeping her around?

  But it was weird because when she’d looked up into his eyes on the night he mated her, she could have sworn she saw love there.

  She wiped her brush and sighed. She missed him.

  But she’d given him ample time to say he’d cared, to correct her when she’d said he didn’t want her, and he’d said nothing. Done nothing. He just wanted her painting. He just wanted to solve her problems and absolve himself of guilt.

  When he’d come to the balcony where she’d been talking to Leah, she’d seen it in his face, in his broken but stubborn posture. He was trying to be a good man. She knew she should just appreciate that.

  She knew he could give more. But if he wasn’t willing to try, she couldn’t spend her life dragging him along with her, begging for crumbs of emotional intimacy and hoping he could deliver.

  She looked around the room. Multiple paintings were propped up, drying.

  She thought of the one she’d given him. It had been special to her because it made her think of their mating and the new start it had given her. But after he’d basically admitted to not caring for her, she didn’t want it. She didn’t want to look and remember how much hope and feeling had been in her as she painted it, even after the confusing prior day.

  She hoped it tortured him, reminded him of what he lost, so even after he sent her back to New York with no stalker, he felt a loss in his life. Because she would always feel him. She would miss his workaholism and his stubborn insistence on taking control. And the way he was a whirlwind in the bedroom, the only man to seduce with just a look.

  Damn, she wished she could have one last time with him. But she dreaded him showing up to tell her it was all finished. She trusted him implicitly to deal with the stalker. When he’d said she’d be safe, she hadn’t doubted him. He was her mate, and she trusted him to get things done in general. But would it be enough to spend a lifetime with a capable mate, even if they didn’t feel anything for you?

  A knock on the door made her jump, and she listened, not going to open it. She never opened it without someone announcing themselves, just in case.

  “It’s Scott. Can I come in?” he asked.

  She sighed and walked to the door, heart hammering in her chest. What would he say? She opened the door to see him there in a suit. It was open, the tie loose and the collar open. She saw a scratch on his face and a splatter of what looked like blood on his chest.

  “I just wanted to tell you it’s over,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “He won’t bother you again.”

  She gulped and looked him over. His face was hard, his hands looked scuffed, like he’d been in a fight. “What happened?”

  “Do you really want to know?” he asked, a dark look on his face.

  She felt the blood drain from her face. Maybe she didn’t. “Just up until the violence, maybe.”

  He sighed and walked inside. Damn, he was tall. And so handsome. And so hers. She wanted to tie him up and keep him there, but it wouldn’t make him love her. So she had to leave.

  She led him into her room. “Come on. I’ll pack while you talk.” No point staying extra days. Time to get back to her life now that it was safe to do so.

  He watched her quietly as she packed, unnerving her by not saying a word.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said, knowing that talking about getting things done was easier for him than dealing with emotion.

  “I lured him out after he saw pictures of the painting online. He expressed interest in having it shipped. I told him he really should see it in person.” Scott sat on the edge of her bed with folded arms. “He flew out the next day. Made an offer.” Scott raised his hands and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s just say he didn’t like my counteroffer.”

  She swallowed. “Tell me you didn’t do anything illegal.”

  “I protected my mate,” he said simply. He eyed her belongings. “You want me to help you pack?”

  She studied his stoic expression. It broke her heart a bit that he could really just let her walk out like this after mating her. But now that he’d taken care of her problem, she guessed he hadn’t felt gu
ilty.

  And he’d stayed away the last few days anyway. If he really wanted to spend time with her, he’d have been there.

  But he’d done amazing things for her. Helped her paint again. Brought her bear out. Given her an amazing night under the stars, in tune with nature. She guessed that was all she could expect. Maybe she just needed to go back to New York for a while and let him figure things out. And she could try and decide if she could really live without her mate.

  When she was packed (she’d already gotten somewhat packed just in case she needed to leave quickly), he carried her things outside.

  She was still curious about the painting, whether it had been harmed, and whether the stalker was still out there and alive. But somehow it didn’t matter compared to the pinching pain in her heart that told her she was making a huge mistake by leaving. But he had never asked her to stay, never said he was willing to work to give them a real relationship. And if she stayed now, she’d basically be agreeing to half a life, simply because they’d mated.

  Still, her heart pounded painfully as he loaded her things into the back of a car in front of the hotel. Both Kim and Leah were busy with the brothers they were spending time with, and Mara would call them when she was safely home.

  For now, she just needed to get off this island.

  “I’ll drive you,” Scott said. “The airport isn’t far, and I want to make sure you get there safely.”

  Yes, safe. That’s all he cared about. Her being safe. Not her being happy. Or loved. Just safe.

  She told herself not to be bitter; he’d done a lot for her. She guessed a part of her just felt bad that she hadn’t been able to help him with whatever was bothering him. Whatever was holding him back. But it wasn’t going to happen if she stayed. If she stayed, she’d just keep demanding his love, which he clearly wasn’t willing or able to give.

  “Who flew you out?” Scott asked.

  She told him.

  The drive was quiet and she leaned against the door with closed eyes, trying to calm the ache inside her. She didn’t want to be crying when they said goodbye. She just kept telling herself that she should be happy. She could paint again. She had no stalker. When she was ready, she’d need more details about exactly what had happened there. But she wasn’t ready yet.