Page 37 of On Tap for the Bear
I climb the stairs to my room at the Inn, my hand trailing along the banister. The wood is smooth and cool under my palm. I unlock the door as quietly as possible and slip inside.
The bed looks impossibly inviting. I don't bother changing, just kick off my shoes and collapse onto the mattress fully clothed. The pillow is soft against my cheek. Sleep pulls at me immediately, heavy and irresistible, dragging me down.
Tomorrow, I'll have questions. Doubts. But tonight, I let myself believe in impossible things.
CHAPTER 11
ELI
Istand at the window long after Quinn disappears into the Pinecrest Inn, watching until Evelyn's porch light flicks off and the building goes dark. My bear paces inside me, restless and protective, wanting to follow her upstairs and guard her while she sleeps.
Mine. The word pulses through me with every heartbeat. Mate. Safe. Ours.
I scrub a hand over my face, trying to settle the animal instinct roaring through my blood. The tavern smells like her now—vanilla and wine and sex. The bar top is sticky where we didn't bother to clean up. The broken bottle still glitters near the beer taps where it shattered.
What the hell did I just do?
I showed her the ley lines. Told her about the magic. Had sex with her on the bar like I couldn't control myself for five more minutes to get her somewhere private, somewhere comfortable. My bear had taken over, demanding and possessive, and I'd let it happen.
But she chose this. Chose me. Said the words out loud even when I gave her the chance to walk away.
I grab the broom and dustpan, sweeping up glass and straightening bottles. My hands shake slightly as I work, adrenaline still coursing through my system. The flannel she wore smells like her when I pick it up from behind the bar. I hold it for a moment before folding it carefully and setting it aside.
The drive home feels longer than usual. The compound is quiet when I pull up, most of the lights already off. My brothers' vehicles are scattered across the gravel lot. Everyone's asleep.
I let myself into my A-frame and stand in the dark, listening to the forest settle around me. Owls hoot in the distance. A rabbit or possum rustles through the underbrush. Normal sounds. Safe sounds.
But nothing feels normal anymore.
I strip off my clothes and fall into bed without bothering to shower, too exhausted to care. Quinn's scent clings to my skin—a reminder and a promise and a complication I'm not sure how to handle.
The animal inside me rumbles contentedly as I close my eyes. For the first time since Quinn arrived in Redwood Rise, it isn't fighting for control. Isn't demanding I go to her, claim her, make her understand what she means to me.
The bear is satisfied. We mated. She's ours now, even if she doesn't know it yet.
That should terrify me. Instead, I sink into sleep with her name on my lips.
Sunlight streamsthrough the A-frame windows when I wake, harsh and bright. I squint against it, disoriented for a moment before memory floods back. Quinn. The bar. Her gasping my name as she came apart in my arms.
The bear stirs inside me, pleased and possessive. Mate. Go to her.
I roll out of bed and head for the shower, turning the water as cold as I can stand. It does nothing to calm the animal or the very human need twisting in my gut.
I have to tell her. About shifters. About what I am. About the fact that my bear has decided she's our mate and there's no going back from that.
She'll run. Or worse—she'll look at me with fear instead of desire. She'll pack her car and leave Redwood Rise and I'll spend the rest of my life knowing I found my mate and lost her in the same week.
The water beats down on my shoulders, scalding now that I've adjusted the temperature. I brace my hands against the tile and force myself to think rationally instead of letting instinct drive every decision.
She deserves the choice. To know what I am before this goes any further. To walk away if bear shifters and mate bonds and territorial instincts are more than she can handle.
Even if losing her destroys me.
I dress quickly—jeans, a clean t-shirt, boots. Run a hand through my damp hair and grab my keys. The Bear Claw opens at eleven, which gives me a few hours to figure out what the hell I'm going to say.
The compound is quiet as I head to my truck. A few of my brothers are already up, moving through their morning routines. Calder nods at me from across the lot but doesn't ask questions. Thank god for small mercies.
I head for the tavern without looking back. Quinn has to choose this—choose me—knowing exactly what it means. Anything else is just me forcing my will on her, and I won't do that. Can't do that.
