Chapter Ten
I could keep telling myself I wasn’t hiding in the tiny, cozy bedroom in the safehouse.
After all, I was exhausted. My body still ached from shifting into my bear form and walking halfway across the state.
Like Trina had said when I landed at Forever Home, I didn’t have any serious injuries.
But if I had any plans of getting up close and personal with my bear on a regular basis, I needed to get into better shape.
Maybe I should look up trainers that specialized in shifters who neglected their wild instincts.
There’s a bear on the other side of that door that I’m sure would like to help you with that, my bear reminded me.
I swallowed hard, letting fear paralyze me temporarily like it did every time I thought of him being so close.
Every time I caught his scent. That bear smelled like the most remote parts of the forest, the ones that no human could ever touch.
The fresh, sun-warmed pine and clean, cool water that had melted on a mountain peak.
The bear was mesmerizing. He preferred to be outside, sometimes sitting completely still with his eyes closed, his face tipped toward the sun.
I envied that peace. He made frequent use of the grill, and I didn’t mind reaping the rewards.
And sweet moon, it took everything I had to look away when he did his workouts under the morning sun…
After getting unceremoniously dumped when my fiancé and I decided we wanted different things, I’d kept all men at a distance.
I got the message loud and clear. Ellie was not enough.
But Synamon had men eating out of the freaking palm of her hand.
And then when I was done, I could stop the recording.
Always leave them wanting more. I was in control.
So I’d dive headfirst into Synamon mode while I was here.
There was only so much I could do before everything arrived.
Sawtooth Security promised they could get the goods from The Real Werewives’ production warehouse.
I’d believe that when I saw it. But for now, I could post flirty messages letting my viewers know I was okay.
That what they saw during our strip trivia session was just a technical hiccup, and I was waiting on my new equipment before I came back, better than ever.
My new laptop had government-level security which seemed a little much to protect against a guy who wore a bear head as a disguise. I also wasn’t sure how I felt about letting these bears dig around in my files. It felt like I was betraying my most loyal fans—they deserved privacy as much as I did.
But if one of them had tried to unalive me on a live feed…
A knock on the door saved me from going down that nightmare fuel path yet again. My heart pounded because there could only be one bear on the other side.
I didn’t open the door all the way. I needed to protect myself from that delicious scent. But there was nothing I could do about how his gaze warmed my skin like I’d stepped into the sunshine.
His smile quivered, like he wasn’t sure what to expect from me. He’d been keeping to himself mostly since we got here. I appreciated it, to a point.
“Morning, Ellie,” he said.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him not to call me that. Did he see me as Ellie or Synamon? Maybe that was a me problem…because I wasn’t sure how I saw myself.
Maybe they don’t have to be two separate people anymore, my bear suggested.
“Hi,” I said quickly when I realized I’d let enough time pass to make things weird. Weirder. “What’s up?”
“The Real Werewives delivered. Wanna come see your haul?”
“Oh wow. Yeah, I’d love to.” I smoothed my hair and checked my outfit before I headed out. Sawtooth Security provided some basics for me, mostly T-shirts and leggings. They weren’t wardrobe staples for either of my personas, so they felt a little strange.
Maybe you could just be yourself while you’re here. Relax, my bear urged. Stop trying to be something you’re not.
I didn’t have a chance to process that gut punch, because the living room was absolutely full.
Whoa.
There was a professional camera that was probably used to film some of my favorite moments from The Real Werewives. Soft box lighting that wouldn’t fit into my spare bedroom back at home. Microphones. And an actual teleprompter.
“Sweet moon, this is too much.”
Brad furrowed his brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Everything here is top of the line. Not that I’m an expert, but that’s what I was told. Your videos will look amazing.”
“That’s the thing.” I sank into an overstuffed chair. “The charm of Synamon Honey is that it’s all DIY. It’s not supposed to look slick. It's like I’m just filming my everyday life.” I chuckled nervously. “Wearing face paint and pasties.”
He grinned. “Can I tell you something, as a viewer?”
My lips parted, and that fear paralysis coursed through me once again. Brad was the only other person who knew I was Ellie and Synamon, besides Jen. And the Sawtooth Security crew, of course. But they were different than the bear in front of me.
“Sure.” Ugh. I tried to be nonchalant, but it came out snippy. His head jerked back, and his disappointment was palpable. Whoever this character was while I was here with him definitely needed some work. I did my best to soften. “I’d love to hear it.”
“We’re not watching for the production quality.
We’re watching for you.” He came closer but stopped when he hit one of my invisible walls.
“Seriously, the rest of it doesn’t matter.
That probably sounds dismissive. I know you work hard to come up with fun stuff for us.
But you could read your grocery order and ten thousand people would turn up live. ”
“You’re probably right. But my grocery order is real life.” I tipped my chin up with as much defiance as I could muster so close to the bear.
“And this is real life now too. Who knows? Maybe this tricked-out setup will give you inspiration for new skits. Things you couldn’t do with your old equipment.”
Now he was speaking my language. The possibilities were truly endless.
“What if the magic is gone?” My voice cracked as emotion coursed through me. My eyes burned, and I could not break down. Not here, not now, not ever. “What if that bear headed bastard took everything good with him?”
Imaginary walls be damned, Brad knelt beside the chair.
I couldn’t breathe, with the heat rolling off his big, muscular body.
That scent had gone into overdrive, making me feel a whole other set of foreign emotions.
He was tall enough that it put us eye to eye.
Gaze to delicious gaze. Sweet moon, what would it be like to let this bear in…
“We’re not letting the Centerfold Slasher or whoever broke into your house take anything away from you.
” Those words were pure growl, but his smile said something else entirely.
My insides, my defenses, everything inside me melted.
“I have an idea. Why don’t I get all this equipment set up while you pick a new outfit and get ready? Then we can give it all a test run.”
“What do you mean?” I’d filmed hundreds of videos for Only Bears. Once I stopped feeling intimidated by the fancy equipment, it would be like riding a bicycle.
If you can stop thinking about what it would be like to ride this bear…my own animal was ready to let Brad in.
He brightened. “We don’t hit record. You perform just for me.”
“Oh.”
“You hate it.” He pushed back on his heels and stood. “That’s cool. Just throwing it out there. Do whatever feels right.”
“I don’t hate it.” I surprised both of us with my declaration. “I’m wrapping my head around the idea, that’s all. The Stepchild was my first live performance, and that freaked me out too. I’m not used to having people with me while I perform.”
“We don’t have to do it,” he reiterated.
“No, I want to.” I rose from the chair and picked up a box marked makeup and hair before I could change my mind. “You’re right. Things don’t have to stay the same. Synamon’s having a glow up and I think that can be good for all of us.”
He cocked a brow. “Is that what you want?”
It was a simple question, but at the same time… “I want things to go back to the way they were, but I can’t have that. The Werewives were generous enough to loan us all this stuff and I would be ungrateful not to take advantage of it.”
He nodded but the bear was no actor. Apparently, my craft needed work too. He wasn’t buying it.
“I’ll get to work,” he said.
I felt lighter than I had in a long time as I opened the makeup, wig, and costume boxes. It felt like Christmas. Like going back to my very first videos when everything was new and exciting.
Sweet moon, this was all professional quality stuff. Nothing had come from a drug store. Not one thing had a clearance sticker on it. The wigs were made of real hair.
Wow. Not only could Synamon 1.0 not afford any of this stuff, practical-ass Ellie would never let herself splurge on anything like this.
Synamon 2.0 was a whole new ballgame. I tingled with excitement as I drew my signature crescent moon over my left eye. The cream was heavily pigmented and wouldn’t smear all over my face at the slightest hint of sweat. Definite upgrade.
Wonder how well it would stay if your private performance for this gorgeous bear gets up close and personal…
My bear was absolutely insufferable. But could this new version of Synamon let him in?
I kept getting ready, pushing through those doubts. Whoever sent over the boxes of makeup, hair, and wardrobe understood the assignment. I had to wonder if they were Synamon Honey fans.
All you have to worry about is your number one fan outside that door, my bear said.
He’s just doing his job, I reminded her as I pinned my blonde wig into place and tied the hair into ponytails on either side of my head.
If his job is to look at you like he wants to eat you with whipped cream and a cherry on top, he’s excelling. My bear had an answer for everything.
But did I want that? Brad had been in the right place at the right time twice. I wouldn’t go as far as to say he’d saved my life, but I would reluctantly admit I liked having him in it.
I gave my green neon pasties a test run twirl before putting the acid-washed denim cropped jacket over them. A plaid pleated mini, pink fishnets, and stilettos that looked like they were fresh from the Fayva rack. I looked like Punky Brewster had just broken out of reform school.
Perfection.
But performing for this bear’s eyes only would be my most challenging act yet. The muscles between my thighs pulsed at the thought of it.
All I knew was that I didn’t want to live this double life anymore, in the shadows, full of secrets. I wanted to BE Synamon. She was fearless. She got what she wanted.
Why was it so hard to say goodbye to Ellie? Jen had been right when she said it was more of a character than this face paint and pasties…
Then why was this so scary?
The only sound in the cabin besides my thunderous heartbeat was my heels clicking on the wood floor.
I found Brad in the living room, standing in the middle of the set, considering a construction manual.
The soft boxes were set up, and the camera was aimed at a chair he’d taken from the dining room table.
How cute that I had a man looking after me that actually bothered to read instructions.
Of course, Ellie wanted to protest that she didn’t need a man to do anything for her, but that bullshit line of reasoning fell by the wayside when he realized he had company.
Brad’s mouth dropped when his gaze met mine.
Sweet moon, this was intimidating.
Not the bear. Okay, especially the bear.
But the setup. The lights. This was real. Synamon Honey wasn’t some dirty secret filmed on my phone anymore. This was real.
You’re meant to be a superstar, my bear reminded me. Start acting like it.
Taking a deep breath, I strutted over to my audience. The man had more than earned his ticket to this performance, and I was going to give him Synamon Honey—full throttle, over the top, and indulge his every fantasy.
I placed my finger under his chin and pushed his mouth closed. The instruction manual fluttered to the floor.
A bob of his Adam’s apple was his only response. The heat that rolled off his body was enough to melt my makeup and every single one of my defenses.
“It’s showtime.”
Brad simply nodded and hit a button on the remote control. The lights of the soft boxes turned on, and a smoke machine I hadn’t noticed until now hissed into service.
Love me like a bomb…
The first notes of “Pour Some Sugar On Me” started playing and that was all it took to make all my inhibitions melt away.
I let myself get lost in the rhythm. I always chose the outfits and the vibes, but when it came time to perform, I always let Synamon call the shots.
There was no need to script the performance when pure instinct always knew what to do.
The music told me when to tease a little skin. When to actually shed a layer. When to run my hands over my bare, shimmery stomach and let my head fall back.
I’m hot, sticky sweet, from my head to my feet…
But then something stronger than the music compelled me to open my eyes and get pulled into the vortex of my bodyguard bear.