Chapter 16 New Home
new home
BOONE
Zion had spent half of lunch complaining about having to go back to teach for the rest of the school day “while I’m urgently needed here,” and the other half insisting that I wouldn’t fumble the ball on Operation Sugar Cookie while he was gone.
I know Zion’s a shit-ton smarter than me, but with respect, he was dead wrong about my ability to run this play while Vik did his quiet first maul thing.
I knew I’d fucked up as soon as the words about putting her out left my mouth.
Hurt flashed across Bell’s face.
Only for a few seconds, though. A brittle smile replaced the hurt look in the next instant. “Okay, then.” Underneath my red flannel work shirt, she squared her small shoulders with a tight little nod.
I wanted to kick my own ass.
She’d come out here looking for proof that we were assholes, not bears who’d love her right if she just let us. And, like an idiot, I gave it to her by kidding around about kicking her out, right after she drew her line in the sand.
“Bell…”
“I’ll just…” She looked all around, like some tourist in need of directions. “I’ll just go get my things.”
“Fuck, Bell, that’s not what I meant.”
Didn’t know what I hated more. That I’d hurt her or that she was trying to act like I hadn’t.
Either way, she hopped right off the stool to pull another one of her Bell-running-away specials.
“C’mon, sugar, don’t do that!”
I got in front of her before she could flee again. Hands raised in the air so she knew I wasn’t planning on touching her. But I was using the fact that I was a monster truck to her cute little Mini to keep her where I wanted her, and we both knew it.
Another hurt look flickered in her eyes. She was so much smaller than me, but she had all the power here. Her visible disappointment blasted into my chest like backdraft.
Fuck.
“I get it,” she whispered in a way that felt worse than if she’d shouted at me. “And I’ll figure this out on my own. Just let me pass.” Her face crumpled a little, and she looked down at the ground. “Please.”
“No.”
Bell and I looked up from our standoff to find Vik regarding the two of us like an exasperated father.
He’d returned to his original position behind the counter and was facing us again, but he was still struggling with his bear.
Poor guy. Now that we’d exchanged long-overdue maul bites, I could feel the confusion churning inside of him.
Sure, he’d had access to the memory of her arousal scent going off without Bell necessarily being aware of it. But there wasn’t anything that could have prepared him for it actually going off—while she told us sex was off the table.
She wasn’t a bear yet, but it was like her human was saying no while her animal was telling our bears to come and get it. It was a true mindfuck for someone like Vik, who’d never been sent unintentionally mixed signals.
It’d popped off a wrestling match with his black bear, who didn’t know how to be patient.
At least not when it came to our future mate.
To me, he silently said, “I’ve got my bear under control. Don’t worry.”
But I could tell that control of his was hanging on by a string, with the bear he’d never had to deny before roaring in the background.
“He was only joking,” Vik told Bell through gritted teeth. “Do not run away again. Sit back down so Boone can explain to you what he meant.”
Bell stilled in that wounded-bird way of hers. Her eyes flared wide. I wasn’t inside her head yet, but on a primal level, I could practically feel her vibrating with the need to flee.
“C’mon, you’re brave,” I reminded her. “Bravest girl I know.”
She looked between me and Vik. Once, twice. Then, as if deciding I was the less dangerous option, she turned fully to me to ask, “Why would you joke about something like that?”
Okay, she was staying. Looking real fucking annoyed with me, sure, but not bolting like a scared rabbit.
My chest nearly caved with relief.
Then I lowered my hands to give her the answer that made her eyes flare with surprise, then crinkle into a smile.
bell
As it turned out, the bears weren’t kicking me out but keeping their promise to let me pick a place of my own.
That afternoon, I found myself walking between Boone and Ravik down a bendy road to choose any house I wanted in the ghost town they simply called the Outer Limits. Like the variously sized cabins were on some kind of game show prize carousel.
Was I incredibly grateful for the unexpected gift of privacy while I pulled myself together mentally enough to face my daughters? Absolutely.
Did I know what to do with the jumble of feelings swirling around in my chest that they’d do this for me, even after I’d let them know that sex was completely off the table? Absolutely not!
“Seriously, any house I want?” I asked Boone, barely able to believe the offer.
“As long as it’s between two other houses,” Boone answered. “But if I were you, I’d pick one of the smaller, one-floor ones. Easier to keep heated until Vik can get the boiler and baseboard system back up and running.”
I was grateful for the guidance. Most of the houses were two stories, like the one I’d spent last night in, but I liked having the decision narrowed down for me. I happily explored only the one-floor houses, which were in various states of disrepair.
Some just had a generous coating of dust and stale, cold air. Others had sagging ceilings or soft spots in the floors where leaks and years of freeze-thaw had warped the wood. In a few places, I could see daylight through cracked windowpanes and gaps in the roof.
“Okay, correction,” Boone said the first time we entered one of the more dilapidated houses. “You can have any house you want as long as it’s up to code. It’s our job to keep you safe, and none of us would be able to sleep knowing something could happen to you here.”
Their job?
His declaration made a flower bloom in my chest.
I’d felt so alone during the months before Boone’s rescue. The notion of all three of them actually caring whether I lived or died sped up my heart.
And made my guilt twist deeper. What was I giving them in return for all this care? Nothing but rejection.
But… Delusion. Delusion. Delusion, I reminded myself. It’s just their poly lifestyle delusion, making them think I’m meant to be their mate.
I gripped that reminder with a tight mental hand as I followed Ravik out of the house without any further exploration. They’d figure out I wasn’t worth all of this trouble soon enough.
In any case, they didn’t need to worry about me choosing a house that was too dilapidated or too big.
After nearly two hours of searching, I found a place that was just right.
I knew this would be my pick as soon as I stepped into the weathered and moss-covered A-frame cabin that didn’t quite match the rest of the houses surrounding it.
Dense trees flanked it on both sides. It was much smaller than the other homes I’d toured, all of which possessed at least two bedrooms. This cabin featured a tiny kitchenette tucked under a loft space that held a single mattress.
King-sized, but not gigantic like the one I’d woken up in this morning.
Best of all, the entire back wall of the house was taken up by windows that looked onto a huge lake sparkling under the afternoon sun.
As weird as I still felt about accepting their generosity when I knew I’d never be able to offer them anything in return, my excitement made me shout, “This is the one!” as soon as I came down from the loft ladder.
Thank goodness I’d been climbing up and down ladders at the Minnesota Black Heritage Museum for the last five years. I had no problems with my knees or my balance as I came off the last step.
Boone and Ravik didn’t look nearly as thrilled about me having finally made a choice after nearly two hours of looking.
I found them at ground level, exchanging a troubled look.
“What?” I scrunched up my nose. “Is that moss outside really something gross, like mold?”
“No, it’s just…” Boone rubbed the back of his thick neck. “Uh, this is what the Ayaska used to call a widow’s cottage.”
Ravik shifted uncomfortably beside him while Boone explained, “Basically, when all three of a female’s mates died, the widow used to come down here to one of these cottages to, well… die, too.”
I scanned the A-frame house with new eyes.
One two-seater sofa and a saggy armchair, both upholstered in fading, cracked leather.
A rocking chair and a single set of dresser drawers, on top of which sat an even older console TV than the Sharp/VCR combo at the large four-bedroom cabin I’d come here from.
One sturdy and squat wood stove instead of a hearth with a roaring fire.
So little furniture, yet just enough to live comfortably.
It was freezing right now, but I imagined the tiny house could be heated by the wood stove. A few hours of scrubbing and dusting, and it would be clean and cozy. I could already see myself curled up on the couch until it was time to literally climb into the loft bed.
“So, it’s meant for women who plan to spend the rest of their lives alone?”
Boone grimaced at my question. “You’re going to say it’s perfect, aren’t you?”
I mentally held his delusional hand as I answered, “Only because it is.”