Chapter Twenty-Two – Jay
“I should go.” Jay kissed Alison’s shoulder as she half-opened her eyes. It would be hard to leave her, to walk out of the door when they had spent such an incredible night together. And it had been incredible, and amazing, and more than he could ever have dreamed it could be. But that did not stop it being the right thing to do. “Before Tessa wakes up. I don’t want to confuse her.”
“I don’t want you to,” Alison murmured, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. Her eyes searched his face.
Does she think we are running out on her? his bear asked.
No. At least he hoped she didn’t think that.
What if she thinks we made the whole thing up to get her into bed and now that we’ve gotten what we want, we’re going to cut and run? his bear moaned.
You’re being dramatic. Alison feels the connection we share. And that is something we cannot make up, Jay assured him.
“But you’re right. It’s too soon,” she murmured as she slipped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest.
“You’re not making it easy.” Jay hesitated for a moment, savoring the warmth of her body against his. “But I want to do this right. For you. For Tessa.”
Alison pulled back slightly, her eyes still heavy with sleep but clear with understanding. “I know. And I appreciate that more than you know.” She traced a finger along his collarbone, then slowly moved her hand down toward his chest and stomach. “Most men wouldn’t think twice about what a five-year-old might think.”
A flash of something—pain, guilt, a memory just out of reach—crossed Jay’s mind. He winced, the familiar fog of his amnesia swirling at the edges of his consciousness.
“Jay? Are you okay?” Alison’s nurse instincts kicked in immediately, her hand moving to his forehead.
“Yeah,” he said, the moment passing. “Just...trying to remember something. It’s gone now.”
She nodded, not pushing. That was one of the things he loved about her…
Love. Yeah, he loved her. Without question, without hesitation.
Without even knowing all of himself.
“I’ll call you later,” he whispered, finally extracting himself from her embrace with a reluctance that felt like physical pain as she ran her fingertips along his growing erection.
His bear growled in displeasure, wanting to stay curled around their mate.
“Promise?” Alison’s voice held more than a hint of vulnerability that broke his heart.
“Wild horses couldn’t stop me.” Jay smiled, leaning down for one last kiss before gathering his clothes from where they’d been hastily discarded the night before.
As he dressed quietly in the dim light of early morning, he caught Alison watching him, her hair tousled around her face, eyes filled with a look that made his chest tighten. He almost crawled back into bed right then.
We need to go, his bear said firmly.
I know. He dragged on his jeans and shirt and headed to the bedroom door, but then he hesitated.
With a groan, he turned back to her, and in two swift steps, he was at her side again. He bent down, their lips meeting in a slow, tender kiss. “You’re making this impossible,” he murmured against her lips.
“You’re the one with no willpower,” she teased.
“Really?” He slipped his hand beneath the bedcovers and cupped her breast in his hand, his thumb and forefinger tweaking her hardened nipple, feeling her shiver beneath his touch.
“That’s so not fair,” she murmured, her eyes half-closed as he continued his gentle assault on her senses. Alison arched into his touch, her breath catching in her throat.
“I never claimed to play fair,” Jay whispered, as he pushed the bedcovers down and sucked her nipple into his mouth, taking time to swirl his tongue around it. He enjoyed the soft moan that escaped her lips. Not wanting to leave her…unsatisfied, he slipped his hand over her stomach and lower.
Alison parted her thighs, granting him access to the warmth between them. He slid his fingers through her wetness, finding her already slick with desire. Jay groaned against her breast as he found her swollen nub, rubbing it slowly with his thumb.
“So much for leaving,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as he circled her sensitive flesh with deliberate pressure.
“Five more minutes,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her stomach. “I can be quick.”
Her laugh turned into a gasp as his mouth replaced his fingers. The taste of her arousal was intoxicating to him; Jay relished every lick and suck on the sensitive nub between folds of flesh. Her body tensed and trembled beneath his attentive tongue.
Jay was fully lost in her—his world comprised of her soft sounds and the way her hips lifted to meet his touch. He added gentle pressure, knowing exactly what she needed now. Last night had taught him the language of her body, every sigh and tremble a word in a vocabulary he was eager to master.
As Alison’s breathing quickened, Jay increased his rhythm, his tongue working in perfect harmony with his fingers. Her thighs quivered around his head, and he could feel her approaching the edge.
“Jay,” she whispered, her voice strained with the effort of keeping quiet. “I’m going to…”
He hummed against her, the vibration sending her over the precipice. Her back arched as she came, one hand pressed against her mouth to muffle her cries. Jay continued his gentle torture, drawing out her pleasure until she collapsed back against the pillows, completely sated.
He pressed a last kiss to her inner thigh before crawling up her body, a satisfied smile on his face. “Now I can go,” he murmured, looking down at her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. That was a sight he was going to remember for a long, long time.
“That was...” Alison trailed off, still catching her breath.
“A proper goodbye,” he finished for her as he pulled away from her. “For now.”
With that, Jay left the room, forcing himself not to turn back. Because if he did, he would be lost.
Walking quietly so as not to wake Tessa, Jay made his way down the hallway, pausing briefly at the young girl’s partially open door. She was curled up in her bed, hair splayed across her pillow, with one small hand clutching a stuffed bear. His chest tightened at the sight. Something that felt like belonging and terror all at once.
What if I fail them? Jay asked his bear.
We won’t, his bear answered with such conviction Jay believed him. And believed in them.
No matter their past, they would not let Alison and Tessa down.
He carried on along the hallway and moved on silent feet down the stairs before quietly letting himself out the front door. The cool morning air hit his face, a stark contrast to the warmth of Alison’s bed.
No going back, his bear reminded him.
Oh, but how he wanted to. He forced himself to close the door behind him, careful not to make hardly a sound that might wake Tessa.
As the lock clicked shut, he placed his hand on the wooden door and sighed. If only they were a family, he wouldn’t have to sneak away at the first light of dawn.
But he didn’t want to rush things. He was willing to go at whatever pace Alison thought best. Because this was a huge thing for a young child to comprehend. Not just that her mother was in a new relationship, but that the other person was a bear shifter.
Hopefully, once she meets me, once she sees that I’m like a big cuddly teddy bear, she’ll be okay with it, his bear said hopefully.
But they both knew there were no guarantees.
No guarantees at all.
But that was a problem for another day. For now, Jay needed to get back to the ranch and make a start on his chores.
Jay cast one last glance up at Alison’s bedroom window, the soft glow of early morning light reflecting against the glass. What he wouldn’t give for one last glimpse of her.
His bear chuckled. If you got one last glimpse of her, we would never make it to the end of the driveway, let alone back to the ranch,
His bear knew him too well.
He turned away, acutely aware that each step putting more distance between them. And as he walked, he started to question whether he’d done the right thing to go to her last night.
A delivery truck rumbled past and the driver lifted two fingers from the steering wheel in a casual greeting. Jay nodded back, wondering if this was someone he’d known before. Every face he encountered carried that same question mark—had they been friends? Enemies? Did they know what had happened to him, what he’d done?
He hadn’t meant to get so close to Alison, not with all the broken pieces of himself still scattered and lost. But now it had happened. He hoped she didn’t get hurt in the fallout of his arrival back in town.
He strode on down the quiet street. Bear Creek was still mostly asleep, with most of the houses still in darkness. Jay shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched against the slight chill that clung to these dawnlight hours, wishing he could shift and get out of town.
If only we’d driven the truck, Jay said as he crossed the street, heading for the outskirts of town.
He’d come straight to Alison’s house last night after running with Henry and Klein. He’d run through the streets sticking to the shadows, unheard, unseen. It was easy under the cover of darkness when the streets were relatively empty, and he could use his shifter senses to avoid people. But it was too risky to attempt to remain unseen even in this half-light. All it would take was for the wrong person to be looking out of their window and things could go sideways fast.
It was strange. He might not remember the details of his past life, but one thing he instinctively knew—not everyone in Bear Creek was aware of the existence of shifters. So he’d have to stick to two feet.
Four paws are always faster, his bear said smugly in his mind.
Yeah, but we don’t want to freak people out if they see a bear running down the street, Jay replied as he pushed himself to walk faster.
Soon, the houses grew farther apart, and he reached the edge of the residential area. Fields stretched ahead, leading toward the mountains. The mountains called to him in a way nothing else did.
Except for our mate, his bear reminded him.
Nothing can ever compare to her, Jay agreed.
The houses thinned out completely as he reached the true edge of town. Jay glanced back, taking in the view of Bear Creek spread out below him. Somewhere in that collection of buildings was Alison’s house, where she and Tessa would soon be starting their day.
For a moment, Jay let himself imagine a different life, one where he was part of that morning routine. Coffee brewing, breakfast cooking, simple conversations about the day ahead.
His bear rumbled with approval at the thought. I cannot wait for that day.
But whatever peace that imagined life offered, Jay knew he couldn’t claim it. Not until he remembered what he’d done. Not until he faced the consequences of his actions, whatever they might be.
The need to shift, to run on four paws instead of two feet, was growing stronger with each step away from civilization. His bear wanted to break free and run off the tension that had built inside him ever since he left Alison’s bed.
A few more minutes brought him to the field that would lead to the lower slopes of the mountains. Tall grass swayed in the morning breeze, dotted with wildflowers. Jay scanned his surroundings one last time, making sure no early-morning hikers or tourists were about to witness what came next.
But there was no one around.
He took a deep breath, feeling his bear pushing for freedom, to run wild and free. Sometimes he wondered which was his true form—the man or the bear. Which was the mask he wore, and which the reality?
In moments like this, with the mountains calling and the wild beating in his blood, he thought perhaps the bear was the truth of him after all.
We are equal, his bear said. Two halves of the same whole.
Yes, Jay took a deep breath and let go of the world around him.
The air around him seemed to crackle with energy as his human form faded from the world.
Almost instantly, the bear took his place, his four paws planted firmly on the ground. He shook himself, a low growl rumbled in his chest, and he shook his head, ready to run.
But before he took a step forward, he swung his massive head around and stared back at Bear Creek. He located the house where his mate slept and focused on her presence for a long moment. Then he turned away.
Time to go. Four paws struck the earth, propelling him forward with a speed and grace his human form could never match. Grass whipped past his flanks, occasionally brushing his belly as he thundered through the field.
This was freedom. This was simplicity. Jay’s bear lost himself in the pure physical joy of movement, of strength unleashed.
Jay let his thoughts recede slightly, allowing himself to experience the world through his bear’s senses without the constant filter of his human fears and doubts.
As the bear ran, every rustle in the grass, every shift in the wind, registered immediately in his awareness. Within minutes, he’d built a complete picture of his surroundings that extended far beyond what human senses could perceive.
Soon, they’d crossed the field and leaped a hedge, as grassy meadows gave way to scattered trees and low shrubs. The terrain gradually became steeper, and rockier, but Jay’s bear took it all in his stride, as he climbed higher and higher, cutting through a valley as he headed toward the Thornberg Ranch.
Not once did he stop to question whether he was going the right way. It was as if the location of the ranch was embedded in his DNA.
When a stream appeared, cutting across his path, his bear paused, lowering his massive head to drink. The water was cold and clear, tasting of minerals and the high mountain springs that fed it. He lapped at it noisily, water dripping from his muzzle as he satisfied his thirst. Then he stepped carefully through the shallow water, enjoying the cool sensation against his paw pads.
A flicker of memory surfaced. Water.
But not a stream. No, it was more turbulent than that. And more… He fought to catch a hold of the memory as it flickered out of focus. But it had gone. All he was left with was a feeling. A sense that someone had been with them. Not Henry or Klein, but someone else. Someone important.
But who?