7. SEVEN
SEVEN
Vera
Despite my very vivid, very inappropriate dreams—yes, we’re calling them dreams—I get through the next three days with zero groping incidents and without blurting anything embarrassing.
I may or may not spend too long staring at the back of his head or his ass whenever he’s not looking at me, but other than that, Bas is one hundred percent safe from me and my stupid brain.
If only I was safe.
By day three, I resort to packing a change of underwear so I can switch them part way through the day.
I hide the morning’s pair into a zip lock bag to keep the scent contained and lather on extra perfume, and it seems to hold.
It’s just me going quietly crazy while Bas acts like the perfect professional.
He’s warm, but not to the point that it crosses a line.
He’s caring, but he’s also careful not to put his hands on me or touch me in any way.
The weather is icy, and I relish the time we spend out of the office just for the cool, fresh air on my hot cheeks and all the scents of the park that help distract me from the honey-bourbon scent I think I might actually be clinically addicted to.
The park is still closed, and there’s been a severe weather warning since we’re expecting snow, so Bas is understandably annoyed when we arrive that morning to find the gate already open and the chain busted. “Jerks. They couldn’t wait a few days?”
“We definitely locked that last night, right?” I chew my lip trying to remember, but I was pretty distracted. I hope I haven’t done the wrong thing and let him down.
“Yeah, we locked it. You wait. It’ll be tourists trying to camp for free while they think there’s no one here to catch them out. You see it all the time. They’ve probably brought a camper up here. They’re lucky it hasn’t snowed yet. They’ll never get it out.”
I can see why that sort of behavior would piss him off. “How do we find them?”
He shifts uncomfortably. “The easiest way is to shift, but…” He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to.
Obviously I can’t shift, and he knows that.
He’s waiting to see whether I’ll feel uncomfortable if he does.
“Of course. I’ll um… I’ll turn around.” Wishing I didn’t have to, I spin to face the other direction while Bas undresses.
Shifting is done in stages, and depending on the animal, some shifters get a lot bigger real fast. Bas in particular, since his beast is a bear. It tends to be hard on clothes.
If it’s possible to perv with your ears, I perv. I listen until I strain something, imagining each button of his shirt being undone, each inch of solid, hairy flesh being exposed.
I run my tongue over dry lips and shove my hands a little deeper into the pockets of my jacket.
I jump when something nudges my shoulder and spin to find myself looking at a huge dark brown bear. My eyes widen. I haven’t seen Bas in his four-legged form for years. He and Riley stopped shifting around me as much as they could help it when it became clear I wouldn’t make the change.
He’s bigger than I remember, which I guess makes sense since he’s bigger in his human form too.
His bear has filled out in much the same ways.
His shoulders got wider, he’s taller, and his face and chin have grown solid.
On all fours he’s nose to nose with me at five feet, so I get a real good look in those rich brown eyes.
Of course he can’t speak like this, but he twists his head around to point his nose at his back and leans down lower, and you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what he’s asking.
A little spark of excitement skates through me as I move to his side and climb onto his back.
It feels so intimate to wrap my legs around him and cling tight to his shaggy winter fur, but somehow safe, since this form is simpler, more animalistic.
And he can’t talk to ask questions about why my hands might be shaking a little as I cling onto him!
His sense of smell will be even stronger like this, though, a fact I’m acutely conscious of as I swing my leg over him.
He lifts up to his full height again and pauses, checking to see if I’m stable.
I reach forward and pat his shoulder. “I’m good.”
My heart is beating like a maniac, though, as he turns and lowers his nose to the ground then trots up the hill toward the Bailey’s Lookout trail.
His body is warm and strong beneath me, and he moves fast. I never once feel like I’m going to fall off because he somehow makes sure of it.
At the top of the hill, there’s a parking lot with a large gravel area and a lookout over the valley below.
The trail goes down into the valley, but Bas stops in the parking lot and lets me down.
I can’t see any signs of people, although I do see what looks like fresh tire marks.
When I turn back around and find myself looking at an almost seven-foot wall of naked man, I let out a little gasp.
He’s shifted back, presumably so we can talk. He’s standing close to me. So close I can appreciate all the little details, like the way his broad chest is covered in hair and his pecs are so defined and his abs—
OK, keeping my eyes way above his thick abs. Way above.
Bas shifts a little uncomfortably. “Sorry. I can’t talk when I’m a bear.”
“No, I get it. Can you scent anyone?” I’m absolutely not going to let my eyes flick down to where something very large hangs between his thighs. This is normal. I can be normal.
God, why do I feel so hot? The air is icy.
Shifters are naked around each other all the time. I’m the loser for making this something it’s not. But oh, how I wish it was.
“Yeah, but the trail is old. They might have started here, but they didn’t stay long.”
“Should we keep looking?”
He shifts back, and we check two other likely locations but find no one. By this point it’s snowing. It’s light and the snowflakes cling to my cheeks as Bas runs. I’m worried he’ll be cold since they cling to his fur too, but he doesn’t seem to feel it. My fingers feel like icicles.
When he turns back for the truck, he doesn’t have to shift to tell me what he’s thinking. Conditions are going to get dangerous real fast if the campers are unprepared.
“Would they have tried the hot springs?” I have to raise my voice over the wind.
He lets out a huff I think means yes and picks up speed.
The trail to the hot springs still hasn’t been cleared and won’t be until it’s safe to get a team out to do it. They could get trapped there if they’ve been stupid enough to walk around it on foot. Especially if the slide gets worse.
We make it back to the truck quicker than I’m expecting, and I start the engine while Bas shifts and dresses. “Do you think we need to put the chains on?” I ask him.
He squints up at the sky and shakes his head. “No, but we will soon if it gets any heavier.”
I expect him to tell me to get out, but he slides into the passenger side and jerks his head to indicate that I should get going. “You know the way?”
“Yeah.” I have to put the seat all the way forward to reach the steering wheel, but it feels great to drive his big truck. Most guys would be watching closely, not trusting me, but Bas has his eyes focused on the road as he searches for the tourists.
Snow is falling faster now, and the horizon is misty white. I speed up the wipers and lift my foot off the pedal, easing back on the speed on the bumpy road.
We’re almost at the parking lot when we spot a large white camper coming the other way. It’s almost invisible in the snow until it’s right on us, and I nearly run right into them. I flash the lights and slam my hand down over the horn while Bas curses.
Thankfully they pull over, so I stop the truck and we jump out, leaving the engine running.
“Park is closed.” Bas strides over and leans an arm on the top of their van to talk to them through the window. I wonder how his tone is so calm when he was cursing them a moment ago.
I catch a glimpse of a nondescript white woman with a beanie pulled down low on her head and her cheeks flushed from the cold. The man beside her has tanned skin and flecks of gray in his beard. They’re definitely old enough to know better.
“Oh, is it?” Her innocent look isn’t fooling either of us.
“Yeah, maybe you missed the way the gate was padlocked shut,” I snap.
Bas turns back to give me a wry smile and a shake of his head.
I pull myself into line. I’m still mad, but I’ll take his lead on this.
“As I was saying. Park’s closed. Conditions are dangerous. You’re lucky I don’t arrest you. What I am going to do is escort you back to the main road, and I want you to set your vehicle in low gear and take it nice and slow, alright?”
“I don’t need you to tell me—” the male begins, but his partner hushes him.
Her face looks pale, and I wonder if she realizes they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.
He agrees, but as we head back to the truck, the van takes off without waiting for us.
Bas swears and ushers me into the passenger seat before taking off as soon as he has the seat adjusted.
“Yeah don’t listen,” he mutters as he takes a bend with low visibility faster than I would have dared.
Luckily he knows these roads. It’s so bad out there now I can barely see the camper.
“Don’t stop and wait for us to put the chains on.
Fucking fantastic. Should have fucking arrested them.
That’s what I get for giving them the benefit of the doubt. ”
He growls and grumbles all the way along the track until we reach a sharp bend. I trust him, but my knuckles are white where I’m gripping the edge of the seat, and my shoulders are tense. Conditions are terrible and getting worse every second.
As we round the corner, Bas taps his foot on the break, stopping as quickly as he can without sliding us off the road. The camper’s driver was obviously less skilled.
The vehicle is halfway off the road with its tire stuck in a ditch.
“Shit. Do we have a tow rope?”
“I have one, but there’s no time. If we wait much longer, this track is going to be unpassable.” He slips his jacket off his shoulders and starts unbuttoning his shirt, and I realize what he’s planning.
“Bas, you’re not going to try moving it by yourself!”
He stops in the act of opening the door of the truck and a freezing wind gusts in, blowing the tendrils of hair poking out from under my beanie against my cheeks.
“I’ve already put you at risk by staying out here longer than we should have. I’m not wasting any more time.”