Chapter 3
three
CALLIE
“You can’t go through with this,” Wren said, her collarbone-length, dark brown hair a wreck as she ran her hand through the top of it again.
“It’s going to be good.” I leaned back in my porch swing, my socked feet braced on the railing. Though I would be enjoying Cub Lake for the entire foreseeable future, I couldn’t resist the urge to sit outside and take in the view. “I’ll have my baby. Our boys will be friends. I don’t need a partner.”
“You’re going to get to know him, though. It’s going to hurt.”
“I’m a tough cookie.”
“Do you remember that time you found an injured feral cat behind our dorm?” she asked.
“Not this again.”
“Do you, Callie? Because you fed that cat until it was healed, and when it left without coming back, you were crushed. You were sad about it for months . And that was a cat you barely knew.”
“I’m going to keep and raise my baby,” I protested. “You know I’ll love him more than anything. I?—”
“I’m not talking about the baby. The baby will be loved and spoiled. I’m talking about you . Because the guy who breeds you isn’t going to stay. You’re going to have his baby, and he’s going to become a permanent fixture in your life. Permanently floating in and out. Mostly out. And nothing you can do will change that.” I could hear the pain in her voice.
Though she hadn’t seen her mate since he knocked her up, she had been really damn in love with him. She didn’t say she missed him, but I could tell she did every time the topic came up.
“I know, Wren. But this is the only option that makes sense. My baby will have a good childhood, and I’ll get to watch him grow up. That has to be enough. You were strong enough to survive this—I will be too, because I have to be.”
Wren didn’t say anything for a moment, then finally said, “Shifter pregnancies are a bitch. You’ll have all of the worst symptoms the humans have. You’ll puke through the whole pregnancy, your heartburn will be so bad you feel like your chest and throat are on fire… not to mention the gestational diabetes. It’s a cluster. You’re lucky you’ll have me there to hold your hand.”
My lips curved upward. “I know. I’m a lucky bitch.”
I heard the humor in her voice when she said, “You have to promise me that you’re going to date through the pregnancy and afterward. You hate being alone. You can’t spend your life alone.”
I nodded, eyes stinging behind my eyelids. “Alright. Fine.” She was right—I knew she was right. “You have to start dating too, though. I can’t do it alone.
“Alright, deal. Now is when we act cheerful, isn’t it?” she asked, lifting her voice a little.
A soft laugh escaped me. “Yep.”
“You’re going to fuck a bear shifter. Your whole world will be rocked, because nothing even comes close to comparing.”
“I can’t say I’m disappointed about that. It’s been years since I was with anyone.”
“Which is why you’re going to have to be really, really careful not to catch feelings.”
“That’s fair.” I leaned back in my chair. “Do I need to be worried about anything?”
“Not as far as the sex goes. It’s just otherworldly-good,” she said.
“Fingers crossed that my shifter is as good in bed as yours. I?—”
A low, angry growl rolled in from the forest in front of me, and I cut myself off.
“Was that a bear?” Wren asked.
“It sounded like…” The bear stepped out from behind a few trees, and I recognized him immediately. “Yeah, it’s just Hudson. I’ll call you back.”
Hudson walked up to the porch, his steps heavy and his anger not fading. I ended the call, and he climbed right up the porch’s steps. They’d been replaced during my teenage years after he broke one in his bear form, but that was ten years earlier. The wood creaked and dipped beneath him, and I grimaced.
“Careful. I don’t have the money to replace those,” I warned.
He plodded up and came over to me without pause, ignoring the warning. Lowering himself to the porch, he rested his gigantic head on my lap like he had when we were kids.
I scratched his head lightly, the way I always had, and he made a noise of contentment. “Not yet, anyway,” I revised.
He growled at me again.
I gave him a small smile, though he didn’t see it. “Your dad probably told you I signed the contract, huh?”
He made an angry noise.
That was a yes.
“Not everyone has a clan to fall back on when money gets tight,” I said. “This isn’t what I planned, but I’m looking forward to becoming a mom. I know everything will work out. And I’m sure your clan will pick a good guy to be my mate.” I bit my lip, fighting my emotions again.
Hudson’s lips lifted in a snarl, his chest vibrating with the sound.
“It’s been a long time since we talked. I hope things are still going well for you and the other guys who joined the security team. Is Reed still your closest friend?”
Reed was the father of Wren’s toddler, not that he’d shown any interest in coming back to Cub Lake to raise the perfect little squirt. I’d never commented on Hudson’s shitty choice in friends, because I didn’t want to say something I’d regret.
And because Wren had never actually come out and told him he got her pregnant.
Which was morally questionable, but… well, I understood. He’d bitten her and screwed her without protection, and bear shifters almost always knocked their mates up the first time they were together without birth control. He should’ve assumed that she got pregnant, or at least texted her to ask.
But she hadn’t heard a peep from him since he ditched her while she was in the shower.
So I didn’t blame her for staying quiet about her son.
Hudson ignored my question about Reed, which reminded me of high school so much I had to smile. He had always ignored questions he didn’t want to answer when he was in his bear form. The animalistic instincts and behaviors grew stronger when he wore his fur. I was pretty sure the same thing was true for all bear shifters, but I wasn’t positive.
“I wanted to invite you to the funeral,” I said. “But I didn’t know what to say or how to tell you. You’re always so busy. And I thought your mom would let you know. It was nice, though. He kept his gambling addiction hidden, so no one talked about that. They spoke about how good he was at his job. How everyone loved to spend time with him. How he always ordered the same exact meal from the diner for breakfast every morning.”
I told him about the burial, the lunch that followed it, and the way I’d visited his and my mom’s graves every day for the rest of the week. She had passed on when I was a toddler. From cancer, too.
I told him how I’d gone through my dad’s things.
How I lost my shitty executive assistant job because my boss wouldn’t give me a week off to say goodbye to my father and figure out everything else that needed to be done.
How I’d flown back to New York and packed all my things, then driven back to Cub Lake alone in a moving truck.
How I’d gotten the bills I’d shown him, and hoped they were a scam. How my heart had dropped into my stomach when the lawyers confirmed they were real.
By the time I stopped talking, the sun had set.
When I wished him goodnight and went inside to make beans and rice to appease my growling stomach, he stayed on the porch.
I peeked out the window after my dinner and a shower, and found him still sitting there in his fur. Though it looked like he was sleeping, I recognized the position well enough to know he was guarding me.
My teenage self would’ve wondered if that meant he had feelings for me.
It would’ve made me want him more.
But my adult self was smart enough to realize that he must’ve taken over for the bear shifter who had followed me home… because he wasn’t there romantically.
He never was.
And that had to be okay.