Chapter Six
George
“George, my honey bear…”
“Did you hear that?” Dougal lifted his head, his grin wide. “Someone’s looking for their honey bear.”
“Wait. What?” George was still nursing his headache, although it was getting better. One of the advantages of sitting with Dougal was the man didn’t need to talk to provide company. “You think someone’s looking for me?”
“Listen for yourself.” Dougal got up. “I’m out of here. Sounds like someone’s cutie demon thinks his honey bear has been taken against his will. I’m not going to try to explain to a bear’s mate that they’re so far off the mark it’s not funny. Later.”
“But I’m not a honey bear. Dougal, where are you going?” George half got up as Dougal disappeared but then sat down with a thunk as a blue demon came running into the clearing.
“Honey bear!” Arms wide open, the demon came crashing over, catching George in a hug that was impossible to get out of. He lifted George effortlessly off his log. “Oh, my goodness. I’ve been so worried, honey bear. Who took you? Why are you here? What are you doing in this place?”
“I’m not a honey bear.” George tried pushing on the light blue shoulders, but the demon was impossible to move. “Scott, are you in there? Can you control your demon, please? You’re squishing the air out of me.”
“Goodness, yes. You’ve been hurt.” Suddenly, the demon was sitting on the same log George had been on, and George was on his lap, being petted, gently, but being petted, nonetheless. “How’s your poor head? Are you feeling okay? Should we go back to the hospital?”
“Scott? Are you in there?” George looked into the demon’s, admittedly beautiful eyes.
“Oh, Scott’s in there, don’t mind him.” The demon waved his hand, rolling his eyes. “He’s twittering on about losing another suit, but what’s a demon to do? You’re our blissful one—so much more important than a suit. Scott’s got a closet full of them.”
George’s heart sank, although his bear was in seventh heaven being coddled by their demon. “I don’t think I own a suit,” he said slowly.
“You don’t need one. Who needs suits? If you want one, we’ll get you one, but you, my lovely honey bear, are just perfect the way you are. Just look at you, with your cute beard and your lovely bushy hair.” Patting hands followed the words on his beard and hair, making George worry about what else his demon might find perfect. “Ooh, I want to squish you so badly, my big honey bear.”
“Are you sure you want to be with someone who looks like me?” George felt as if he was being squished already—between an overly enthusiastic demon and his bear who just wanted to come out and feel all that patting on his fur.
“Did someone make you feel bad about how you look?” The demon looked at him in shock. “How could anyone do that when you’re the sexiest hunk I’ve ever seen? Who was it? Where are they?” The demon was looking around, one side and then the other, as though someone was standing by a tree, pointing and laughing at George.
“Not here,” George said quickly. “No one here has ever said that. It’s just, I know what I look like when I see my reflection in the mirror.”
“Aww, my little honey bear suffers from low self-esteem.” To George’s shock and horror, he now had two demon hands framing his face, and his blue-skinned mate was dropping butterfly kisses all over his face. “I’ll make you feel better about yourself. I’ll tell you and show you how perfect and beautiful you are every day until you believe it.”
“Okay, okay. I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” George wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Scott’s demon was unlike any he’d ever met before. “You’re stunning in either form. I’m just trying to be practical because I know I’m not.”
“Practical, bah.” At least the kissing stopped. Now George had to contend with having his face smushed by the demon’s chest as he got hugged again. “You and Scott will get on fine. That man has turned being organized into a religion. But don’t let him convert you. There’s more to life than calendars and spreadsheets.”
“Do I look very organized to you?” George laughed. “Look at me. My taxi’s wrecked, I’m sitting shirtless in a forest, still wearing trousers covered in road grit and grease.”
“Hmm. Where’s your shirt?” The demon went back to looking around again. “I know you were wearing one at the hospital. Did the person who took you take it off you, ripping it apart at the seams in their mad desire to see your muscles? Who was it? I’ll stamp their faces into the dirt for daring to lust over my blissful one like that.”
“No one took me. I got a ride share to the forest from the hospital. My shirt and shoes are over there.” George waved at a nearby tree. “I take my clothes off before I shift. My bear’s body is so much bigger than mine, and I don’t want to rip anything. It’s typically what shifters do. Probably what demons should do, too?”
He gave a pointed look at his demon, who looked a bit shy, but with a hint of a pout. “You wouldn’t like it if I ran around showing off my dick, would you?” Although, to be fair, George could say hand on heart, he'd never seen a pale blue dick before. It was pretty.
“I was in such a hurry to find you. Scott gets worried about dirt on his shoes and random bushes leaping out and ripping his clothes, but I knew we needed to find you because your honey bear would be missing us. He was missing us, wasn’t he? That’s why you were sitting there all alone, looking so sad.”
How could George resist a face like that—one that looked so hopeful and yet so pleased with himself? It would take a stronger man than George to do it, so he didn’t. “Me and my bear missed you from the moment you left the room at the hospital,” he admitted.
“Then why…” Then the demon shook his head. “No, no. We don’t need to know…”
“Yes, you do.” It was George’s turn to cup his demon’s chin with both hands. “I thought I was doing right by you. I have a rather murky history. I rarely care what I look like, and there’s not a person who’s met me who would deny how grumpy I am on a good day. You’re beautiful. In both forms. I thought… I believed I was doing the right thing by leaving you alone.”
There was a long moment when the demon just looked at him so intently that George wanted to squirm—not something he could do seeing as he was literally sitting against his mate’s dick.
“I get it,” the demon said at last. “You had a head injury. That’s fine, my cute little honey bear. I understand.”
“You do know I’m not a honey bear, don’t you? I’m a grizzly bear.”
“A honey grizzly is still cute. You’re my blissful one. I’ve got a blissful one. I’m so happy about it, I could dance.”
“Not in the forest where anyone can see us. Not without clothes. Let me up a minute.”
“Don’t go far. I can run fast, you know.”
“I’m just going over here.” George went over to where his other clothes were in a pile on the ground. He slipped on his shoes, stuck his wallet in his pants pocket, and took his shirt back over to where the demon was now standing up, watching him. He quickly tied his shirt around the demon’s waist so it covered most of his cute butt and dick. “I know demons can shift with clothes on,” he said, tugging at the shirt until he was as happy as he could be. “Peni had Merihem doing it, so I know you can do it, too.”
“Maybe.” The demon swished his hips around, smiling at how the shirt went with him. “But this is nice. Thank you, my honey bear.”
That’s clearly going to be a work in progress. George caught the demon’s hand, leading him towards the trail. “How did you get here? Do you have a car?”
“Dakata’s driver, he’ll still be waiting. Unless Christa took it…”
But no, as they got closer, George could see a car waiting. “Will Christa need a lift back to town?”
“She can translocate.” The demon dived into the back seat of the car. “We’ll take the car and let’s go back to my place.”
“We’ll go back to mine,” George said firmly, giving his address to the driver, who raised an eyebrow at Scott’s appearance but just nodded when George told him where they wanted to go. “Bears have a need to see their mates in their own den,” he added, answering the question he could see on the demon’s face. And at least I won’t have to worry about messing anything up.