Chapter Seventeen – Christopher
Stay. He’d asked her, and although she had not replied, he thought…he hoped…he’d read her answer in her eyes.
And that answer was yes.
As the moment stretched between them, doubt crept in like a cold draft under a door. Had she only nodded because she was caught in the moment? Would tomorrow bring regrets and a hasty departure?
He didn’t want to think about that. Not now.
He pulled her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair, memorizing the feel of her in his arms.
His bear rumbled contentedly within him. She’ll stay with us, his bear insisted. She belongs here.
Christopher wished he shared his bear’s certainty. The sex had been incredible. Oh, so incredible. But people made promises in the heat of passion; they didn’t always keep them in the cold light of day.
We can’t lose her now, he said, his arms tightening involuntarily around her.
Sorcha stirred against him, her skin warm and soft where it pressed against his. “You’re thinking very hard over there,” she murmured, her voice husky with satisfaction. “I can practically hear the gears turning.”
“Just processing,” he said, brushing his lips against her temple.
“Good processing or bad?” She propped herself up on one elbow, her copper hair tumbling around her shoulders.
He traced a finger along her collarbone, savoring the shiver that ran through her at his touch. “Definitely good.”
His bear nudged at his consciousness. Tell her. Tell her everything. Now.
You mean we tell her now, in bed? Christopher asked.
No, we show her, his bear replied, excitement surging through their shared consciousness. That way, she can’t help but believe.
“Hey,” Sorcha said, poking him gently in the ribs. “You looked miles away. And I am right here.”
Before Christopher could answer, his stomach let out a loud, embarrassing rumble. The tension broke as Sorcha burst into laughter, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Come on,” she said, dropping a quick kiss on his lips. “Let’s eat. That pasta’s probably cold by now, but I’m starving too.”
She slipped from the bed in one fluid movement, leaving him suddenly cold where her body had been pressed against his.
Christopher reached out and caught her hand, tugging her back for another kiss.
Her lips parted beneath his, and he lost himself in the taste of her, his hands sliding down to cup her bottom.
Sorcha melted against him for a long moment before pulling away with obvious reluctance. “Come on,” she said, giving his chest a gentle push. “You need to eat before your shift starts.”
Reality crashed back. His shift. Christopher groaned and closed his eyes. “I should have taken Gretel up on her offer of a night off.”
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and felt his stomach sink. Too late now. His shift started in less than an hour. With a sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and began collecting his scattered clothes from the floor.
Looks like we’ll have to take a rain check on any showing and telling, he told his bear.
In answer, his bear roared mournfully, afraid they had let the perfect time to tell her slip away.
We can’t rush this, Christopher said. If we show her and then have to leave her to start our shift, we risk losing her.
Sorcha grabbed her robe and tied it around her waist, the thin fabric clinging to her curves in a way that made it nearly impossible to focus on getting dressed.
Christopher fumbled with his buttons, distracted by the sway of her hips as she moved around the kitchen, retrieving their abandoned meal.
When he joined her, they worked together to dish up the food and refill their wine glasses. The pasta had congealed slightly, but Christopher hardly noticed, too busy stealing glances at Sorcha across the table.
“So tell me more about your work at the cabins,” she said, twirling pasta around her fork. “What does your typical night shift involve?”
Christopher took a sip of wine, grateful for the easy conversation.
“It varies. I do security rounds every couple of hours. Checking the perimeter, making sure all the outdoor lights are working, that sort of thing. I handle any late-night maintenance emergencies. Guests lock themselves out surprisingly often.”
“I bet they do,” she said with a smile.
“But mostly, I’m there to help people enjoy their stay,” he continued, warming to the subject. “Some families arrive late after long drives. Others need extra firewood at midnight. Sometimes people just want recommendations for the next day’s activities.”
As he spoke about his work, about helping guests appreciate the mountains, the town, the special magic of Bear Creek, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. This was more than just a job. It was a life he’d chosen on purpose, one he was proud of.
“That’s what I love about my job too,” Sorcha said, nodding. “Helping people find the best places to enjoy. Showing them hidden gems they might have missed otherwise.”
The similarities in their work struck Christopher. They both enjoyed helping people to find the good things in life, places to enjoy, and experiences to remember. The difference was that she kept moving, always chasing new horizons, while he had found his place to stand and stay.
All too soon, their plates were empty, and the clock was ticking toward the start of his shift. Christopher pushed back from the table with regret.
“I should get going,” he said, collecting their plates.
“If you wait a couple of minutes, I’ll go get dressed,” Sorcha said, rising from her chair.
Christopher caught her by the waist before she could move away, his hands sliding inside her robe to stroke the warm skin beneath. “Stay like this until I’ve gone,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot below her ear. “So I can picture you like this while I work.”
She made a soft sound in her throat, then her hand found him through his jeans, cupping his hardness with just enough pressure to make his breath catch. “I’m coming with you,” she said simply.
“What?” Christopher pulled back, sure he’d misheard.
Sorcha tilted her head, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You didn’t think you were going to bed me and leave, did you? I’m coming with you.”
Christopher’s brain stuttered to a halt. “You…want to come with me? To work?”
“Why not?” She untied her robe, letting it fall open just enough to make his mouth go dry. “Unless you think I’ll be too distracting?”
His bear practically purred at the challenge in her voice.
“Definitely too distracting,” Christopher managed, his voice rougher than he intended.
“I’ll be good,” she promised with a smile that suggested exactly the opposite. “Besides, I’m curious about what you do. And I’m not ready for this evening to end.”
The simple honesty in those last words sent his soul soaring. She wanted to stay with him, even for something as mundane as his night shift. His bear did a triumphant dance inside him.
“All right,” he said, unable to keep the smile from his face. “But you might get bored. After I’ve done my chores, it’s mostly paperwork and occasional rounds.”
“I’m a writer. I find people interesting.” She tightened her robe and stepped back. “Give me five minutes to get dressed.”
As Sorcha disappeared into the bedroom, Christopher collected their wine glasses and took them to the sink, his mind racing. Having her at the office meant more time together. More chances to show her what life in Bear Creek could be like. More opportunities to tell her the truth about what he was.
His bear nudged him. Tonight. We’ll show her tonight. Somehow, we’ll find the right time. The right place.
Christopher wasn’t sure if that was wise, but the urge to reveal himself was growing stronger by the minute. Now that they’d been intimate, keeping such a significant part of himself hidden felt dishonest.
Sorcha emerged from the bedroom in jeans and a thick sweater, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Even dressed simply, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Ready?” she asked, shrugging into her coat.
Christopher nodded, suddenly nervous about having her in his workspace, seeing him in his element. Would she find it boring? Would she realize how different their lives really were?
They stepped outside into the crisp night air. Stars blazed overhead, impossibly bright against the velvet darkness. Christopher offered his hand, and the warmth of Sorcha’s fingers lacing through his sent a surge of happiness through him so intense it was almost painful.
“It’s beautiful out here,” she said, her breath clouding before her as they walked toward the office. “I’ve been in so many places with light pollution, I forget what real stars look like.”
“Bear Creek has some of the best stargazing in the country,” Christopher said, squeezing her hand. “During the summer, we do midnight hikes to the ridge. The Milky Way looks close enough to touch.”
“I’d like to see that someday,” Sorcha murmured, then seemed to catch herself, glancing away quickly.
Someday. The word hung between them, full of promise and uncertainty. So much about his life with Sorcha was uncertain, and that needed to change.
The office windows glowed warm and inviting as they approached. Through the glass, Christopher could see Gretel gathering her things, preparing to leave. He braced himself for the knowing look he was sure to receive.
Sure enough, when he pushed open the door, the bell jingling above them, Gretel’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of Sorcha beside him.
“Well, well,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Look who’s joined the night shift.”
“Sorcha wanted to see what I do around here,” Christopher explained, feeling heat rise to his cheeks despite his best efforts.
“I’m sure she did,” Gretel replied with a wink that made Sorcha laugh. “Well, it’s all yours. Everything’s been quiet. The Hendersons in Cabin 4 needed extra towels, but that’s been taken care of.”
“Thanks, Gretel,” Christopher said, hanging his coat on the rack by the door.