Page 3 of Wrong Turn, Right Bear
My bear was eager to take his fur, and it was ironic that we lived next to the forest and yet finding time to shift was limited because of my job. I was the founder and owner of Ash’s Outdoor Escapes and the sole employee of the company. Leading individuals or groups on hikes, taking them rock climbing or kayaking during the day left little time for admin.
My cousin Mollie occasionally manned the phones if I was out for the whole day, and I had another guy, Romey, who did occasional work for me and who I might hire full time. But the company was basically me, me and… me. Paperwork was a so and so and I did that at night before preparing equipment for the next day. Because I was building the business, I didn’t shift as much as I should, and had no social life. And forget about finding a mate. Most of the people I met were holiday makers, people who enjoyed the thrill of being close to nature but who wouldn’t consider living here.
I wasn’t made for city life. I tried it once when I attended college, but I packed my car the day of graduation, and after racing across the stage to get a piece of paper that would never shape my future, I took off back to this valley.
Though it was cold, I was sweating when I reached my cabin and flinging my jogging gear off, I jumped in the shower, thankful for hot runningwater. My grandparents had lived on this mountain without either and despite how much I loved the outdoors, hot water was non-negotiable.
As I’d prepped and loaded the trailer last night, I was able to snatch some breakfast and race out the door, not wanting to be late for my first customer of the day.
I spotted my client while the car was still in motion. He was idling near the hotel entrance, checking his watch even though I was early. Tall and with a reddish tint to his hair, he was kinda pale. Not in a sickly way, but as someone who spent their life indoors, probably in front of a screen. If he was similar to previous clients, being outside might spook him at first.
I got out, leaning one arm on the door and the other on the car roof.
“Theodore Cannon?”
“Yes.” He had the bluest of blue eyes and they locked on mine. It was as though I’d been hit with something heavy. Air whooshed out of my lungs and I was glad the car was holding me up. Sagging onto the driveway in a puddle of drool wasn’t how to make a good impression, and Theodore was a client.
He’s also something else. My bear was suddenly alert, hoping he could take his fur. But I made him stand down.
Not here. While the hotel was a favorite for shifters—they could spend a vacation in their fur or feathers—there were human guests. And Theodore was very human.
He’s also our mate.
His scent carried over to me on the breeze, almost as if it was served on a platter and the wind was doing me a favor. But instead of washing over me, it battered my body and senses, whipping and taunting me until I was only a shell of a person.
My beast rolled his eyes, saying I was overly dramatic. That wasn’t who I was. Nope. I was Mr. Sensible.
“Hi.” Theodore’s small voice wrapped itself around my heart. I’d witnessed this behavior before. He was unsure if he should learn how to kayak. “I think I made a mistake with my booking.”
No, you can’t let him get away. My bear was fearful our mate was going to cancel the lesson.
He’s not going anywhere. Even if I had to sleep outside his window, making sure he didn’t escape before his vacation was over.
“You did. You booked the wild water lessons which are for experienced kayaking.” Taking a deep breath and sending a message to my legs that they had to move left, right and left, right again, over and over until I saidstop, I walked around the car and offered Theodore my hand.
He stuck out his and the instant we were skin to skin, my body sent him a message. As a human, he wouldn’t interpret it as we were fated, but he should sense something. If not, I was in trouble because he was a holiday maker and I had a limited time to make a good impression.
My beast snorted. He would never understand human emotions and how it was rare for them to fall in love at first sight.
Bah, love?
Though human emotions were a mystery, my beast was aware love could be finite. He’d witnessed that, whereas mateship was forever. The link we forged was so strong it could never be broken, even after death.
Theodore didn’t release my hand but he held up his other one. “I can’t do it. I’m sorry. The fee doesn’t matter. I don’t care if I forfeit it.” He was running his words together, and they were tumbling over one another. He finally paused and gulped air into his lungs.
Our mate’s speech fascinated my bear and he hardly understood a word. But it gave me hope that the human’s skin grazing mine had befuddled my mate’s brain and that was responsible for the stream of words.
“It’s okay. Seeing you were a first-timer, Ialready had you down for flat water kayaking.” He didn’t blink so I clarified. “On the lake.”
“Oh.” He raked his hand through his hair, and I wished he had those fingers on me. “That’s great, but I should warn you, I’m not well coordinated.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll start off slow on land.” If I had my way, my hands would be wrapped around him, never letting go while I kissed over his jaw and whispered in his ear how special he was.
“Excellent.”
“Ready?”
“Sure. But please call me Theo.”
