Chapter 17
Joy had never felt safer than she did in Bear’s arms.
The fire crackled softly in the cabin’s hearth, casting flickering shadows against the wooden walls. The weight of his arm draped over her waist was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. Her body was still humming, sated and warm, her heart thrumming in her chest. She pressed a lazy kiss to his shoulder, inhaling the familiar, woodsy scent of him.
“Mm,” Bear rumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Why the hell did we wait so long to do that?”
Joy smiled, stretching beneath the blankets like a contented cat. The cotton sheets caressed her bare skin as she moved against him.
“Hey, that’s on you,” she teased. “I tried to talk sense into you five years ago.”
He chuckled, his lips brushing against her hair, the vibration of his laughter rippling through his chest and into hers. “If I’d known it would be like that, I probably would’ve risked the eternal damnation and prison time.”
She slapped playfully at his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath her palm. “I was two whole months from turning eighteen.”
Bear caught her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing them gently. The tenderness of the gesture made her heart flutter.
“I would’ve loved to have been here to help you celebrate that milestone birthday.”
“Yeah, I actually—” The words caught in her throat, and she glanced away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.
“Hey.” He pinched her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, his touch light but insistent as he brought her gaze back to his. The intensity in his brown eyes made her breath catch. “Keep going with that thought.”
Shit. Why had she even brought it up? It was humiliating enough just knowing it had happened, forget actually telling him about it. The memory burned hot in her chest, a secret she’d carried for five years.
“It’s no big deal. That was a long time ago.” She tried to keep her voice casual, but the slight tremor betrayed her.
His eyes darkened with concern. “What happened on your eighteenth birthday? Something bad?”
She let out a sigh, her fingers absently tracing patterns on his chest. “No, nothing like that. I just had hoped you’d be able to be there for my eighteenth. For me, eighteen meant something specific.” She swallowed, shifting beneath the covers as vulnerability washed over her. “It meant you wouldn’t have a reason to push me away anymore.”
“Joy…”
“I know, I know,” she said quickly, waving a hand as if brushing it off would make the feeling less suffocating. The cabin suddenly felt too warm, too intimate for this confession. “It sounds stupid now.”
“No.” His fingers found hers beneath the blankets, warm and steady, anchoring her. “Not stupid.”
The sincerity in his voice gave her the courage to continue.
“I’d convinced myself you’d show up,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “That you’d walk through the door, pull me aside, and tell me it was finally time. That you wanted me.” She swallowed hard, biting her lip. “I even bought… God, this is embarrassing.”
He shifted beside her, his full attention on her face. “What?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head, her dark hair spilling across the pillow. “Forget it.”
“Not a chance.” His grip on her fingers tightened, firm but gentle. “Tell me.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed down the last of her pride. “I bought matching lingerie,” she whispered, barely able to force the words past the mortification clawing at her throat. “A set, just for that night. Something pretty, because…” She took a deep breath. “I wanted to be pretty for you.”
Bear sucked in a sharp breath, his body going completely still beside her.
Her face burned, but now that she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop the words from spilling out. They tumbled forth like a confession she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding on to all these years.
“I spent weeks saving up for it. Went all the way to Reddington City to pick it out because I didn’t want to have anything like that mailed to my house. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted…” She trailed off, her pulse pounding in her ears, unable to finish the thought.
Bear was quiet for a long time. Too long. She could hear the faint ticking of his watch on the nightstand, counting out the seconds of silence. Then he exhaled, long and slow, his breath warm against her skin.
“Bug, if I’d known…”
She let out a small, self-deprecating laugh, shaking her head against the pillow. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”
He turned onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. His gaze was heavy as it traveled over her face, taking in every freckle, every line of tension around her eyes.
“I wanted to be there.”
She swallowed hard, the words settling in her chest like stones.
“I did,” he said again, his voice rough with an emotion she couldn’t quite name. “But I couldn’t get leave. I’d just been home for the Polar Plunge, and I couldn’t swing another trip so soon.”
She nodded, looking away, focusing on the dancing flames in the fireplace. “I figured as much.”
He curled his fingers beneath her chin, turning her face back to his with gentle insistence. “And even if I had, I wouldn’t have done what you were hoping for that night.”
Pain lanced through her, sharp and unexpected, but he shook his head before she could pull away. They’d just had sex, so it wasn’t like she didn’t know he wanted her. She wasn’t sure why the words stung so much.
“Not because I wasn’t interested.” He brushed his thumb over her jaw, his touch featherlight. “Because I was. More than I had any right to be.”
Her breath hitched, caught somewhere between her lungs and her lips.
“You were eighteen,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with remembered restraint. “And I was twenty-six. I needed to be sure, needed to know it wasn’t just me wanting you so damn bad I couldn’t think straight.” His thumb traced the corner of her mouth, sending tiny shivers across her skin. “Needed to know you weren’t just caught up in the idea of us, of me.”
She blinked up at him, her chest tight with a strange mixture of hurt and understanding.
He let out a rough breath. “And maybe that was just an excuse to give myself time, to keep from taking you the second I got the green light.” He huffed a humorless laugh, his eyes never leaving hers. “But I wanted you. Don’t doubt it.”
“Really?” Her voice was smaller than she intended.
He made an almost comical face, his eyebrows shooting toward his hairline. “Woman, trust me, seeing you in lingerie would’ve blown my fucking mind, no doubt. The whole event would’ve been embarrassingly short. It would’ve ruined my chances with you from the beginning since I would’ve lasted all of six seconds. So it’s probably best I wasn’t able to make it.”
She had to laugh at that, the tension breaking like ice on a spring lake. “I doubt it.”
He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a dangerous half smile. “Still have any of that lingerie maybe I can catch a glimpse of sometime?”
The question hung in the air between them, playful on the surface but weighted with possibility underneath. What would he say if she told him her lingerie collection had only grown from there? That her eighteenth birthday had marked the time when she’d started to realize that feminine, beautiful things weren’t as stupid as she’d always assumed they were.
That being beautiful and feminine was what she wanted to be. At least for Bear.
It had led directly to what she had formulated in her mind for Velvet Mornings. Because, yes, her whole life, she’d always been wild and athletic and fierce.
But there was a different part of her too: feminine, soft, tender. She didn’t show that side of herself often, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.
“Yeah, I think I have some things you would like,” she said softly, watching his eyes darken at her words.
His grin lit up his face, transforming it from handsome to breathtaking. “We can leave to go home right now if you want.”
She laughed, the sound rich and full in the quiet cabin. “I’m pretty sure it’ll all still be there when we get home. You’ll just have to tell me what your favorite color is.”
He let out a heartfelt groan that brought an even bigger grin to her face. This was the sort of reaction she’d been hoping for all these years, the validation that this part of herself wasn’t silly or unwanted.
But then her smile faded as reality intruded. She was going to have to clean up her house—literally and figuratively—if she wanted to be able to take these steps forward with Bear. And she did. There was nothing she wanted more than to continue what they’d started here in this cabin, this sanctuary he’d built with his own hands.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He brushed his hand over her hip, his touch warm through the blanket.
She shrugged, trying to play it off. “Nothing, really. I just need to get my shit together. I can’t keep falling apart all the time.”
“Hey.” His voice softened. “Have a little patience with yourself.”
A sigh escaped her before she could stop it, carrying the weight of her frustration. “Sometimes I think all I’ve done is be patient with myself.”
He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow again, his brown eyes flickering with something unreadable. The firelight cast half his face in shadow, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows.
“What?” she asked, tilting her head against the pillow.
“I’ve got something to show you.”
Curiosity bloomed in her chest, pushing aside her melancholy. “Oh?”
He sat up fully, running a hand through his already-mussed hair. The blanket pooled around his waist, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest. “Come on. Before you fall asleep on me. We’ve got to go outside to see it.”
Joy groaned in protest, burrowing deeper into the blankets like a stubborn child. “It’s freezing outside. The only place I want to go is nowhere.”
He winked at her, the gesture so boyish and charming that it made her heart skip. “Trust me, you’ll want to see this.”
That was all it took. Those two words— trust me —from Bear Bollinger had always been enough to get her to follow him anywhere.
She sighed dramatically but sat up, reaching for her sweater that had been discarded on the floor hours earlier. “This better be good.”
He only grinned before pulling on his own clothes, tossing her one of his hoodies before leading her toward the door. The too-large garment enveloped her in his scent, making her feel both tiny and protected all at once.
The second she stepped outside, the cold hit her like a slap, shocking after the warmth of the cabin. “Jesus, why?—”
“Almost there,” Bear said, taking her hand and tugging her along a narrow wooden path she hadn’t noticed earlier. His fingers were warm around hers, his stride purposeful.
“Already?”
“Yep.”
And then she saw it.
Steam rose in delicate tendrils from a natural pool, nestled in a small clearing just a few meters from the cabin. Smooth stones lined the edges, and the water shimmered in the moonlight, the surface rippling with heat. The scent of minerals hung in the air, earthy and primal. Surrounding the pool were solar-powered lights, making everything more inviting.
Joy’s jaw dropped, wonder replacing her earlier reluctance. “No way.”
Bear grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Way.”
“You have a hot spring?”
“Technically, nature does. I just made it easier to get to and fancied it up a little.” He gestured to the wooden path he’d carefully constructed.
Joy let out an incredulous laugh, taking in the thoughtful details—the stone steps leading into the water, the small shelf carved into the rock for towels or clothes. “You knew about this and waited until now to tell me?”
“Got to keep some surprises, Bug.”
Joy didn’t wait for further explanation. She was already peeling off her clothes, eager to sink into the warmth. The night air kissed her skin, raising goose bumps in its wake, but the promise of the spring’s heat made it bearable.
But when she turned to see Bear hesitating at the edge, still fully dressed, her amusement faded. His jaw was tight, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt like he was debating whether to remove it.
“What’s going on?” she said softly, taking a step toward him.
His gaze flickered to hers before he exhaled, shoving a hand through his hair. “It’s not a big deal.”
She stepped closer, the warm steam curling around them, blocking out a little of the cold. “Then why do you look like you’re bracing for impact?”
He let out a short, humorless chuckle, then, with a resigned breath, pulled his shirt over his head.
The scars were the first thing she saw.
Angry, jagged burns stretched across his back and shoulder, twisting his skin in a way that spoke of pain. Old pain. Pain he’d carried for years without telling her.
Joy’s breath hitched, caught somewhere in her chest.
He turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. “IED explosion. Iraq. We were clearing a compound, and the blast knocked me into a wall. Got lucky, all things considered.”
Lucky ? The word seemed absurd in the face of such damage.
Joy swallowed past the tightness in her throat. He thought this was lucky?
Without a word, she reached out, tracing her fingers along the scarred ridges of his shoulder. He tensed beneath her touch, but he didn’t move away. The texture was uneven, a battlefield mapped onto his skin.
“Bear,” she murmured, pressing her palm flat against his back, feeling the warmth of him beneath the damaged tissue.
He let out a slow breath, some of the tension bleeding from his muscles under her gentle touch.
“I haven’t told anyone about them,” he admitted, the words quiet in the night air. “Not even my family.”
Her chest ached with the weight of his confession. “Why?”
He sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Didn’t seem important. Other guys came back worse. Hell, we all know about Derek. He was tortured to within an inch of his life. So this didn’t seem like it really mattered very much overall.”
She frowned, her fingers still gentle on his skin. “We all hurt for what happened to your brother. But that doesn’t mean your pain doesn’t matter.”
He shrugged, the movement lifting her hand slightly. “My dad said something similar not long ago.”
“Your parents wouldn’t want you to keep this from them.” Joy knew that much for certain. Charlie and Finn Bollinger were good people, the kind who faced difficult truths head on. “They’re going to be pissed you didn’t let them know when it happened.”
Bear stared at the water, the steam creating an ethereal halo around him. “It was when Derek’s PTSD was at its worst. It wasn’t the right time.”
Joy raised an eyebrow, her heart aching for the man who always put everyone else first. “Yeah? You try telling Charlie Bollinger that one of her sons was hurt enough to be lucky to survive and she wasn’t notified because said son thought she’d be too busy to care.”
Bear grimaced, acknowledging the truth in Joy’s words. “It seemed like the right choice at the time.”
And maybe it had been, but the problem was, he was still making the same choice a couple years later.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.
“Not anymore.” He shook his head, moonlight glinting off his dark hair. “And honestly, even when it happened, it damaged my nerve endings to the point where the pain was manageable. And like I said, I was one of the lucky ones. Even my rehab wasn’t that bad, comparatively.”
Joy didn’t want to fight with him, but she could feel her teeth grinding. If the roles were reversed and she were the one keeping all this a secret from everyone, Bear wouldn’t stand for it.
“I still think you shouldn’t keep your wounds a secret.”
His jaw flexed, but before she could press further, he spoke again, voice lower now. “Yeah, well, believe it or not, the scars aren’t really my biggest issue.”
She stilled, something in his tone making her heart race. “What do you mean?”
He exhaled through his nose, eyes flickering toward the steaming water before going back to her. “The explosion messed with my hearing. Tinnitus. Constant ringing in my ears ever since.”
Joy felt her stomach twist. All this time, all these years, and she’d never known. “All the time?”
“Not all the time,” he admitted, his voice almost too casual. “But it can be pretty problematic.”
Her throat tightened. “And let me guess, you haven’t told anyone about that either. You just carry it all on your own?”
He didn’t answer, his silence confirmation enough.
Frustration and something deeper—hurt—rippled through her. “Bear, you take care of everyone else. But you won’t let anyone take care of you.”
He looked at her then, something raw flickering behind his eyes. “They don’t need to.”
Joy huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, goose bumps rising on her bare skin in the cold night air. “Yes, they do. Because you’re not some unbreakable machine. You’re human, and you deserve the same support you give.”
The same support he’d given her over the past few weeks when she couldn’t even sleep in her own house.
But he just looked away, jaw tight, the stubborn set of his shoulders too familiar.
Joy softened, stepping closer, laying a hand over his heart. She could feel it beating strong and steady beneath her palm. He’d been so patient with her through everything. She needed to be the same with him.
“Please, just think about telling your family, okay? If you tell them now, they’ll be upset that you didn’t let them know when it first happened, but they’ll understand. But letting them find out about it randomly at some point in the future? That will feel unnecessarily cruel.”
He ran a hand through his hair, considering her words. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”
That was enough—for now.
She squeezed his hand. “C’mon, I’m freezing,” she murmured, her lips grazing his. “We’ve got this beautiful spring. Let’s get warm.”
She forced herself not to look at the scars as they lowered themselves into the steaming water, both letting out sighs of bliss as the heat enveloped them. The tension of the moment dissolved in the mineral-rich water, replaced by a comfortable silence.
“Did you build the cabin because of the spring?” Joy asked when she was soaked up to her neck, leaning back against the naturally smooth walls of the spring.
“I wanted the proximity to the river first and foremost for plumbing for the cabin, but I was actually thinking of a spot a little farther upriver until I found this thing.” He laid his head back against the edge of the pool, his features relaxed in a way she rarely saw.
“Can’t blame you for that.” She closed her eyes, letting the warmth seep into her bones, washing away the last of her tension.
She was just beginning to drift in peaceful contentment when she let out a startled squeal. In one smooth motion, Bear had reached across the spring, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and pulling her against his hard body.
As their skin connected beneath the water, Joy knew with absolute certainty—this was exactly where she wanted to be.