Page 26 of Bear to be Wild
Somehow I made it through the session.
He sat up. “That was epic.” He moaned, stretching out like a content cat.
“I’ll leave you to get dressed.”
“Wait,” he stopped me. “We should get drinks later, you and me.”
Eww, I’d rather synchronize swim with piranhas. “Sorry, I don’t date clients.” I headed for the door.
“Fine. You’re fired,” he said with a laugh and grinned wider, as if he’d landed a killer joke in a comedy club. “So what do you say? Nine o’clock?”
“No, thank you.” That most definitely would not be happening, even if I was no longer anchored to a bear shifter with kind eyes and gentle disposition—the opposite of this swagger machine.
Jackson’s smile faltered. “Aw, come on, don’t play coy?—”
“Excuse me,” I cut him off before having to field another unwanted coaxing attempt and slipped out of the room.
When I sagged against the door and exhaled, Charlotte turned my way. “You okay?”
Walking over to her, I muttered, “I’ll need to cleanse the crap out of that room before my next client.”
She cocked her head in question.
“How much sage would I have to burn to get rid of the thick ooze of testosterone and body spray?”
CHAPTER 14
ROAN
Iwandered the decks alone. Searching for distraction, anything to break the constant longing and unending questions in my mind. Not to mention my bear’s pestering to find and claim our mate, and to make her see we’re meant to be together.
Not so easy, considering she’s doing her best to keep us apart, I told him.
I’d let him run loose on an island for a couple of hours earlier that day, though he wasn’t as content as usual to explore the forest. The pull to return to the ship, back to Maribelle, tugged at us. It had been two days since she’d broken the spell that bound us together, yet the yearning to return to her had grown stronger than ever.
Music thumped in the distance, drawing me closer. A rock song coming from the Nocturnal Lounge.
They were playing AC/DC. I stepped inside and was greeted by the scents of fruity cocktails and varied supernaturals. Fourbandmates played on stage: a blond singer, a dark-haired guitarist, a bearded bassist, and most surprising—a massive gray gargoyle pounding on the drums. Maribelle had told me about the band when she’d mentioned her brief encounter with the singer and how she’d hexed him.
I grabbed a beer from the bar and remained back there as I watched the show. They were good, entertaining guests with more rock favorites through the ’80s. I kept staring at Van. Did that make me some kind of crazy stalker? Maybe. It wasn’t jealously that raged, though. He knew Maribelle. I had questions, and I didn’t know how to get answers.
“We’re Luna Blue Shadows,” Van said as they ended the set. “Thank you for coming, and good night.”
Over the next several minutes, the crowd filtered out. When I saw my chance, I walked over to him.
“Great show, man,” I said.
“Thanks. Appreciate you coming,” he said earnestly, although he probably repeated that a dozen times a night.
“I’m new on the ship. Work as a personal trainer in the gym.” I pointed upward.
“Welcome aboard, man.” Van smiled broadly and clapped me on the shoulder in a friendly greeting. “Come join us for a beer.” He nudged over to where the others were gathering at the bar.
“I wanted to talk to you alone, if you have a second,” I said.
“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
I exhaled slowly. What was I doing? Where did I even begin? “Actually…a beer would be welcome.”
