Page 12 of Bearing North
There were places back home in Colorado where it was safe to shift and go wilderness wandering. But chances to do so had been rare and it was more fun getting into trouble as a human.
Orson’s senses as a bear were similar to his human senses, but more keen, and Alaska smelled as good as it looked. Even at this godawful early hour, it was sun-warmed and spiced with spruce, moss, and plants he wasn’t familiar with. He’d have to ask Alexandra what everything was.
Alexandra.
Hismate.
With his bear out, it was harder than ever not to simply barrel in her direction and break into the cabin to curl into that big, welcoming bed with her.
But if Orson wasn’t sure about her reaction toReal Orson, he was pretty sure what her reaction toReal Orson the Bearwould be. If she didn’t have a gun, she for sure had pepper spray, and Orson didn’t want a face full of bulletsorcapsicum.
He had to be un-Orson altogether andthinkabout what he was doing for once, not just act on instinct and impulse. Rash acts got fishponds set on fire and flooded New York offices.
Orson wanted this woman in all the ways imaginable, not just a quick road trip hookup, not some kind of fraught office romance. He wanted her in a forever way, and he had no idea what that might look like.
Did he give up his job so there wasn’t a power divide? Did he fire her? (No, even his bear knew that was a dumb idea. Dumber than offering to sleep in the truck!) Did he promote her to co-owner?Marryher?
His bear likedthatidea.
They roamed up to the top of a nearby ridge where they could look out over the vast land.
Orson had been sent here as a punishment, but it was unexpectedly like coming home. He could put up with outhouses and swarms of mosquitoes. He could get used to nights of daylight, never-ending forests, and the deserted highways that went on forever. His mate was here, steeped in this land so deep that he could smell it in her pores. She was a force like this place, shaped by frightful power and beauty, formed with roots in its rivers and fingers in its clouds like some kind of goddess.
She was his, and this land came with her. He wanted them both with a primal, patient need. Orson assured his bear that they could wait and be sure she was ready to be theirs.
The cabin roofs were barely visible from an outcropping where Orson sat with his bear, watching birds and listening to the drone of insects. The mountains around changed colors like holograms in the short time he was there, with clouds drifting across the sky. The brilliant sun was low, kissing the horizon but not yet plunging beneath it. It would, he knew—they weren’t above the Arctic Circle yet—but the sunset was slow and shallow. It wouldn’t get completely dark, even when the sun was below the skyline.
Orson was tempted to wander further, down the opposite ridge to the mountains, perhaps investigate the ribbon of river that he saw beyond. But the last thing he needed was to get lost and have a search party sent out after him. He gave a huff and set off back to the truck. He should try to getsomesleep and maybe insist on driving the next day.
Bears can sprint after prey but much more commonly plod along, and he enjoyed a leisurely return to the cabin, sniffing after rodents and crushing old logs under his paws. Birches gave particularly satisfying crunches, rotted out from the middle. The moss was springy, and the wild roses couldn’t scratch through his thick fur.
He got to the truck and stretched, shifting as he stood on his hind feet and reaching for the truck door before he realized that the curtain at the window of their cabin was open.
And Alexandra was staring out at him.
10
ALEXANDRA
Theoretically, Alex knew she should be most concerned about the giant grizzly bear that had just transformed into Orson.
Realistically, she couldn’t get much beyond the fact that Orson was standing next to the truck without a shirt.
The man wasbreathtaking.
She’d guessed at his physique beneath his buttoned-up shirts and slacks, but guessing was a whole lot different than seeing all that rippling muscle and beautiful flesh with her own eyes. He had curls on his chest she was frankly dying to run her fingers through and shoulders she could imagine clawing.
She couldn’t see all of him, over the nose of the truck, and he wasn’t nearly as tall as a human as he was as a towering bear. But she could see enough of his torso to get a good idea of the rest of him.
And he definitely saw her, seeing him, clutching the curtain like a lifeline.
He gave a little start and might have made a yelp of surprise that Alex couldn’t hear through the window.
He had just transformed from a bear, and her head was having a lot of trouble wrapping itself around that concept, particularly since she was so distracted by the picture burned in her brain of those shoulders and that burly chest.
Alex let the curtain fall and gave him enough time to put a shirt on, then marched out into the bright Alaska night to confront him. She didn’t see any point in pretending it hadn’t happened, and she couldn’t imagine how awkward it would be trying not to talk about it as they drove north. She wasn’t the kind of person to avoid something because it might be unpleasant, no matter how Sandra tried to convince her tolet things goandgo with the floworignore the elephant in the room.
Orson was clambering around the truck when Alex came out, and she was irrationally disappointed to find him fully dressed. He could have left the shirt off now that she’d seen that much.
