Page 11 of Hunny and the Bear

What?

Confused, Hunny hesitantly lifted a front paw, snorting when he began to wipe the pad clean with the warm towel. This was so bizarre. A giant of a male, a freakingbearshifter, was carrying her around and cleaning her paws? When he finished the first front paw, she held out the other expectantly, feeling like rabbit royalty.

What was he going to do next? Put some clothes on her?

As soon as he finished with that paw, he flipped her quickly. Startled, Hunny squeaked as she fell backward, her spine connecting with his inner forearm as he cradled her like a damned baby. Bewildered, all she could do was stare up athim wide-eyed as he cleaned her back paws, his face lined with absolute concentration.

This is so weird.And embarrassing.

And … kind of sweet?

Tossing the towel into the sink, Tank gently set Hunny onto the kitchen counter, right beside a set of barstools.

“Fruit for breakfast?” he asked, staring down at her. His eyes wandered over her before settling on her face, waiting for her response. She nodded eagerly, licking her snout when he turned away, his muscled, tanned back on full display as he moved to the refrigerator.

Opening it, he fished out several pieces of fruit, a carton of eggs, bacon, and a bowl of batter, covered in plastic wrap. Placing everything on the counter in front of her, he went to work, setting cookware on the stove before cleaning the fruit off in the sink. Grabbing a cutting board, he pulled a knife from a wooden block on the counter and cut up an apple, a watermelon, a mango, and several strawberries. He placed them neatly on a small plate and slid it in front of her before returning to make his own meal.

She nibbled on a piece of strawberry, feeling oddly relaxed as she watched him move around his kitchen. For someone so big, he was really graceful, each move he made purposeful. It was kind of hypnotic to watch, and soon enough, he was sliding his own food onto a large plate. Moving around the kitchen counter, he dropped onto the barstool beside her. It squeaked slightly under his weight. He set his plate next to hers.

Tank dug into his meal, and Hunny did the same with hers, her teeth clicking together as she nibbled. After a few minutes, she made a soft purr of gratitude, barely glancing at him. He paused, a forkful of food halfway up to his lips. “You’re welcome,” he replied gruffly.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in comfortable silence.

Five

After a quick breakfast and clean up, Tank set the little cottontail onto the couch, reluctant to let her go. Her fur was thick and soft, and some possessive part of him enjoyed carrying her around in his arms.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, ignoring the irritation in his throat. He never talked this much, but after the visit from his brother this morning and the little rabbit refusing to shift back, he’d already overexerted himself by chatting with her, as limited as the conversation had been. He often went days in absolute silence, which worked out perfectly, as he relished his solitude.

Usually.

Now he was itching to converse with his house guest.

Hurrying up the stairs, Tank strode to his closet, ripping open the door and stepping inside the small room. He turned to the dresser on the right, opening the top drawer and pulling out a pair of boxer briefs and thick socks. Opening the next drawer, he grabbed a flannel and a pair of worn denim jeans. Dressingquickly, he put on a used pair of steel-toed boots before heading back downstairs.

Tank eyed the bunny, now lounging on the couch, before nodding toward the front door. “Gonna cut some wood.”

She raised her head from her paws, jumping down to the ground. Hopping over to the door, she looked at him expectantly.

He stared down at her, brows raised in surprise. She wanted to come with him?

“It’ll be boring out there.” He gripped the door handle slowly, waiting for her to change her mind. “Won’t be talking.” He pointed to his neck, his scars hidden by his long beard. She tracked the movement, nose twitching. “Throat hurts after a while,” he explained. Even now, his vocals sounded strained, too deep and gravelly, each word a small, painful stab.

In answer, she pawed at the door.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Opening the door, Tank waited diligently for her to hop through before following her out onto the porch. It was late in the morning now, with the sun shining brightly overhead. Despite its rays, there was a slight chill in the air, the weather brisk enough that even he felt mildly cold. He eyed his bunny carefully.

She seemed unbothered by the weather, so he grunted and moved to the side of the house where he had a large pile of logs waiting for him. Some were from fallen trees in the woods, others from trees he’d cut down in his spare time. As winter was approaching in a few months, he’d planned on stocking up on firewood for himself and his clan within the next eight weeks until winter struck.

But now, after his talk with Murphy, he had a feeling he’d be using this wood for something else. Discreetly, he watched hisbunny hop around a few feet from him as he grabbed his axe handle, pulling it free from the earth.

If she planned on staying for any length of time, there wouldn’t be enough room in his cabin for her. Not as it was. But he’d built his home all on his own; he was more than capable of adding on a room. He could also build some furniture, so she wouldn’t need to sleep on the couch at night.

It’d be better for her and her kit that way.

As he lined up his axe with the center of the log, he wondered why he was being so presumptuous. She likely wouldn’t stay within his territory for anything more than another night, at most. And if she spoke with Murphy before then and decided to stay, Tank doubted she’d want to live with him. Why would she?

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