Page 45 of The Thief

While Bear changed, I peered out the back window. Catcher must have run off, because I didn’t see or hear him.

After a minute, I tapped my fingernails on his bedroom door. Bear always kept his door shut, so I was curious about his personal space. Would I see underwear draped over lampshades, and pornographic magazines? Crumbs all over his bed? Antlers on the wall? A Smurf collection?

“Come in,” he said, a light switching on.

Upon entering his private space, I soaked it all in. A window overlooked the yard, and because the back of the house was higher off the ground, he didn’t have to worry about anyone peeking in. The kitchen-slash-dining rooms and the patio flanked him, so his closet jutted out from the right corner. The room was large enough for a bed and two end tables in a recessed area by the closet. He even had a love seat on the left wall.

I rested my arm on a shelf and stared at the acoustic guitar propped on a stand by the window. “I didn’t know you played.”

Now dressed in pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved shirt, Bear snatched his wet towel off the floor and folded it onto the dresser. “I play at night when everyone’s asleep.”

“Do you sing?”

He laughed. “No, ma’am.”

I looked around. “I guess you didn’t see the bag on the kitchen counter.”

His thick eyebrows drew together. “What bag?”

“I got you something on the way home.”

Color rinsed from his face. “You bought me something?”

“Go see.” I waited on the love seat while a sack rustled in the other room.

Bear’s scent was heavier after showering, and it made me want to inhale a little deeper. It couldn’t be the soap. Maybe it was pheromones on steroids.

Bear returned with the bag and shut the door behind him. When he reached into the sack and pulled out a folded apron, the bag floated to the floor. He held up the black material.

“I figured you could use a good apron,” I said, hoping he liked it. “If it doesn’t fit…”

He hooked it over his neck and pulled the ties around back. “This is perfect. No one’s ever bought me an apron.”

“It looks good on you.” I watched him take it off and neatly fold it on the dresser by the door. “Maybe Melody can stitch the name of the bar on it. Or a rabbit lying on his back, drinking a beer.”

He smoothed his hand over the wrinkles. “I’ll make sure Calvin adds it to the expense report.”

“You’ll do no such thing. That was my gift. You can even wear it around the house if you want. I just thought maybe you’d like something professional-looking for your new job. Every chef needs an apron.”

Bear sat at the foot of the bed and rested his palms on the mattress, causing his shoulders to round. With his eyes still on the apron, he asked, “What did the Mage say?”

While I wasn’t going to slander my own name to the world, I needed to confide in someone. “Can I trust you?”

He dipped his chin. “Is there something that makes you think you can’t?”

I hugged my middle, uncertain how far I could test his loyalty. “I have a big secret, but I’m afraid to tell anyone.”

Whether I could trust Bear wasn’t the issue. How would this affect his opinion of me? This accusation, if leaked, would tarnish my reputation in a way that I could never undo.

Bear got up and sat next to me. “Listen, you can trust me with anything.”

“Can I?”

He cupped my face in his hand, and when the pad of his thumb stroked my cheek, my breath hitched. “If you want my word that I’ll keep this between us, you have it.” Bear’s gaze roped me in and held me bound.

“That Mage claims I worked for him. He said that I’ve been embezzling money and assets from clients for seventy years.”

Bear retracted his hand.

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