Chapter 9
The four of them took an elevator up to the second floor and found it to be a simple apartment with the blandest furniture Gary could imagine.
“This is the Alpha’s. Simon and Alyssa sleep here,” Vic said, pointing to a master bedroom.
He popped open the door to another chamber that had a large bed and nothing else.
“Guest room here. Pretty simple, I know, but Simon was just setting up after burning all of Nanook’s stuff and Alyssa lost everything in a fire a few days ago.
There hasn’t been time to buy more than the basics.
Though, Alyssa already upgraded her tablet.
Said she needed to be more organized.” He rolled his eyes.
“More? That woman could give lessons to a filing cabinet.”
“Two fires?” Gary asked. “Are bears prone to pyromania? Is Smoky the Bear some kind of inside joke?”
Vic and his father both chuckled then shook their heads no.
“You’re missing a lot,” Vic said, “but that catch-up can wait. For now you need to rest. We’ll talk after.”
Gary would hold the beta to that.
His gaze scanned the apartment. “That the kitchen?” he asked, pointing.
“Yes. And yes, I’ll put the serum there.”
Though unspoken, Gary felt the beta’s warning. “I’m anxious, not reckless,” he said. Then he glanced at Margaret. “And I keep my promises.”
Vic looked amused. “I’m usually reckless and not anxious, so it’s good to have you on board. Now get some rest. We’ll figure out your legs in a bit.”
He turned for the elevator, while Gary’s father flashed his cell phone. “Text me when you wake. I’ll be downstairs.”
“Will do, Dad,” Gary said. Then he and Margaret watched as the two got back in the elevator and left.
They stood there in silence, listening to the rumble of the elevator. Then Margaret turned to him, her shoulders tight and her expression fierce. “All right, give. What do you want from me?”
So damn much.
He didn’t say that. Instead, he took the time to study her. It wasn’t a hardship. Even flushed and frazzled, she was beautiful. Tight, curvy body, muscular legs, and all perfectly packaged in dark jeans and a light pink tee.
“Why are you so afraid?” he asked.
She blew out a breath. “Why aren’t you?”
He shrugged. This was the best chance he’d ever have to get his legs back. He thought about their life together the way it could be, with him a whole man—
She pointed. “Yeah. That’s why I’m tense. Right there.”
He frowned. “What?”
“You’re looking at this like some secret stock-buying opportunity.”
“This is a whole lot different,” he countered. It’s a whole lot better.
“Yeah,” she agreed, not knowing his thoughts. “It is different. Because it’s not just your money on the line. It’s everything.” She stepped forward, her expression firm. “You need to be a lot more careful than you are when you’re trading. You take risks there that would destroy me.”
He touched her hand. “You don’t see it, but I am careful. I research everything. I discard a thousand companies for every one I invest in.”
She sighed and looked at the ground, biting her lower lip. “I know. And yet I can’t help but think this might be the one time you’re wrong. And that would kill me.”
He flashed her a grin. “I changed into a bear, Margaret. And I’ve known you. I’ve already lived more than most people ever can.”
“Gary…” She swallowed, her eyes sheening over. “You have a good life. Why would you risk it?”
He stared at her, not sure how to explain. His final answer was simple: “I need more, Margaret.”
“More?”
“If I can’t have you, then I might as well take the shot at getting my legs back.”
She drew back, her brows tight and her eyes flashing. “The one has nothing to do with the other!”
Really? He wasn’t so sure. Sometimes people weren’t conscious of their prejudices.
Maybe she didn’t realize her problem with him was because he was in a wheelchair and she was too nice to admit it to anyone, including herself.
Maybe this whole non-sexual thing was really that she just couldn’t imagine herself with a paralyzed guy.
Except, she repeated it: “I’m not a sexual person, Gary. That’s my problem, not yours.”
“It’s my problem if it’s stopping you from being with me.”
She blew out a breath, exasperated. “You want sex. I know you do. Even if you didn’t now, you would eventually—especially if you got your legs back.
You want a woman who’ll ooh and ahh in your arms and mean it.
Hell, I would want that if I was normal, but I’m not.
You need someone who can give you what you want. ”
He stared at her, surprised. She had a point.
He did want to do all sorts of naughty things with her, and he wanted her to enjoy them.
But she was wrong, too. He would love her just the same if they never did more than sit on the couch together and watch TV.
As long as he knew that she loved him equally in return.
“Can you tell me how this happened?” he asked.
Her glare was pure annoyance, and she threw up her hands in frustration. “Nothing happened. I was born this way.”
He waited, watching her closely. She said nothing. Pain seemed to radiate out of her so raw that it hurt to see. So he tugged her close, needing to reassure her. Physical comfort had always been okay between them.
She came willingly, and he inhaled her scent deep into his lungs. Since shifting he could scent things better, feel his body more keenly, and he was more aware of the divide between thinking man and feeling animal. Right now, however, that divide was very thin.
“I’m so afraid,” she whispered against his cheek. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” he promised.
“You can’t promise that. You don’t know what’s going to happen.” She started to pull away but he held her tighter. In the end, she dropped to her knees beside him and he cradled her head against his shoulder.
“I know it’ll mean we’re over,” she said, almost too quiet for him to hear. “But I want to see you happy with a woman who loves you like you deserve. You’re perfect the way you are. I don’t want you taking insane risks and dying because of them.”
He frowned and pulled back. “We’re not done,” he said firmly. “We’ll never be done until you say we are—and mean it.”
She could barely look at him. “You’re not going to find another woman with me next door. Which means I have to go. I knew this was coming. I knew it, but I wanted a few more days. I wanted my birthday with you. I wanted—”
“And I’m not going anywhere!”
She didn’t answer, just stared at him as if memorizing his features.
“Margaret, listen to me. I’ll be careful. I’ll rest. I’ll do whatever you want. Just promise you won’t go.”
She nodded, but he could tell she didn’t mean it. In her mind she was too broken to be worthwhile. They were over because she couldn’t give him what he wanted. Which was bullshit.
“Margaret,” he whispered against her forehead. “I need you. I love you.”
She didn’t answer. A moment later, he realized she was crying silent tears. He only knew because his shirt was wet. Then the emotions became too much, she began to gasp and her shoulders shook.
He would have promised anything then. He wanted to tell her he wouldn’t use the serum and that he was happy being just friends with her—but that would be a lie.
He wanted his legs back, and he wanted a romantic relationship with her.
Sex would be great, too, if they could find a way for her to enjoy it.
But neither of them could pretend to be something they weren’t.
Silent, he held her. When she finally quieted enough to breathe, he lifted her face to his.
“Gary—,” she began.
He kissed her. He put his mouth on hers and tasted the wet of her tears.
He felt the catch of her breath and the shocked widening of her mouth.
He wanted to plunge deeper, wanted to take what he’d been dreaming about since the day they first met, but he didn’t.
He pulled back and looked into her eyes.
“Do you feel anything, Margaret? When I kiss you, do you feel anything?”
She sighed, her expression miserable. “Of course I feel something. I love you. I want you to be happy.”
“But what about you? What do you want for you?”
She looked at the ceiling, her expression one of total defeat. “You mean, am I aroused? Are my nipples tight and my toes curling in my shoes? Is everything wet and needy for you?” She shook her head. “No, Gary. I’m broken. You need to accept that.”
“Never. No matter what, I’ll never believe that you’re anything but perfect.”
She exhaled a long sigh, and he was pleased that he didn’t hear any wheezing. He’d been worried about her asthma. Then he touched her face, a slow caress. “Forget the kiss,” he whispered. “Just feel my love.”
He stroked his fingers along her cheek and behind her ear, and when she didn’t say anything more, he eased the tips down her neck.
She tilted her head as if she liked it.
“Margaret?”
“I…I don’t know,” she whispered, and he heard confusion in her voice. And fear.
“You don’t know if this feels good?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course it does. But that doesn’t mean…”
He didn’t reply, just continued to stroke her neck, a long gentle caress while he watched the pulse point. There was a reaction there, a speeding up, he was sure of it.
“Those other guys were wrong,” he said quietly, “to scare you away from simple affection. No offense, Margaret, but you can be damned skittish at times.”
She snorted. “I’m not skittish. Men are just big and aggressive.”
“Exactly. We’re big and scary sometimes. We push too hard and too fast. You need someone who’s looking out for you. For what makes you feel good. No matter what.”
She sat back on her heels, her expression serious. “And if that’s just a simple neck rub?”
He shrugged. “Then that’s what it is. But we won’t know for sure until—”
“I know, Gary!” she huffed. “I don’t want to be broken like this. I want to kiss you and jump you and feel all the things I’ve read about. I just can’t.”