Page 12 of Hunny and the Bear

She barely knew him.

He frowned, suddenly irritated. And then his brows furrowed in confusion. Why did the thought of her leaving piss him off? Did he even want her to live with him? No.

Of course not.

She might smell good, and clearly he found her entertaining, but he enjoyed living alone. He preferred being isolated from everyone—that way he could pretend no one in his family pitied him for losing his true mate. He didn’t need a roommate, anyway, especially a pregnant female.

She wasn’t his responsibility, nor was her kit. In fact, he’d be doing himself a favor by going back inside and stopping his own foolishness before it even began.

Without missing a beat, Tank swung the axe, cutting through the log like butter. Tossing the pieces of wood aside, he grabbed another log and dropped it onto the stump, slicing it in half just as easily. The bunny stopped her frolicking, finding a thick patch of damp grass and nestling down into it. She watched as he got to work, falling into a pattern and moving like a well-oiled machine until he had a neat stack of wood.

He’d need a lot more wood than this though.

She shivered, drawing his attention as she shifted slightly on her feet before settling down again.

Was she cold? She was tiny in this form, and even though she was a shifter, he doubted she could maintain enough body heat in these temperatures for any extended period.

Propping his axe along the stump, Tank removed his flannel as he walked over to her. With his free hand, he scooped her up, enjoying her sweet scent of honey, lavender, and vanilla. Dropping the flannel onto the ground, he set her on top of it. Next, he crouched down, fluffing the piece of clothing up in case she wanted to burrow into it.

“Good now?” he asked, his eyes locking onto the crown of her head as she leaned forward, nuzzling his palm with her nose.

He’d take that as a yes.

Never in his life had he been so tuned into someone before, and he hadn’t even spoken with her. He didn’t even know what her name was or what she looked like. Yet here he was, fluffing up a bed he’d made with his fucking shirt because she’d shivered.

Not to mention the need he’d felt to come out here and chop wood so he could permanently alter his home for her. This entire situation was ridiculous. He didn’t behave like this. He didn’t find stray shifters and go out of his way to ensure their comfort, especially if it deterred his own.

What had gotten into him?

He didn’t know. But as he returned to his task, picking up his axe and swiftly cutting log after log, he realized he didn’t really care why he was behaving this way. He’d felt protective of her since he’d saved her last night. It was instinctual.

It felt right.

So, if he wanted to prep a room on the off-chance she stayed with him for a while longer, then he’d do it.

He just might not mention it to any of his brothers in case they planned on busting his balls for the rest of his days.

After a few hours of grueling work outside, and an interesting afternoon of snacking and watching TV with his rabbit—who had a lot to say about what show they watched considering she couldn’t even speak—it was time for dinner.

“You want to change back now?” He nodded toward the plates and silverware he’d set out on the counter in preparation for their next meal. “Maybe eat dinner with some utensils?” he joked.

The rabbit twitched her nose, looking around the room before staring back at him, her eyes wide. He’d placed her on the counter again, mostly just because he enjoyed keeping an eye on her while he completed other tasks.

“Don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

She huffed, hopping over to him. She reached out with a front paw, batting at his stomach. His brows rose until she leaned forward, snagging his T-shirt with her teeth and tugging lightly.

Oh.

“You want clothes first?” Usually shifters weren’t shy about nudity, especially not when it came to shifting, so it hadn’t even occurred to him she’d want to cover up. Grunting, he pulled the T-shirt up over his head, grabbed her, and moved from the kitchen and around the corner. Setting her and the shirt on the ground, he walked back to the kitchen, leaving her to her own devices.

He remained aloof, though he couldn’t deny the way his stomach churned with anticipation, acutely aware of every noise in the cabin as he pulled a few trout from the fridge and began preparing them. He’d just chopped off the last head and tossed it into the garbage disposal when he heard the faint sound of bones popping, followed by a delicate, feminine sigh.

His gut clenched at that one sound, his mouth watering as lust hit him from out of nowhere. His cock swelled in his jeans, desire licking at his balls.

What in the hell was wrong with him?

His fingers were bone white as he clutched the butcher knife in a death grip, his cock harder than he’d ever felt in his life. He pressed himself against the kitchen counter, desperate to hide his erection. She could turn the corner at any second. He needed to calm the fuck down before she scented his lust.

---