19

Cedric stared down at the stove top, trying to ignore the sound of Bethany crying in the shower. He had gone too far, pushed too hard, confessing things he knew she wasn"t ready to hear, and describing things he was still trying to define. What he felt for her, and what he wanted from her, couldn"t be described in simple terms, whether he was more bear or man. He had never longed for another person the way he longed for her, and the way she had already changed his life so easily and without meaning to was having permanent changes in both the way he saw the world and how he imagined his future.

He wanted everything with her, while she was struggling to imagine even sharing a small piece of herself with him.

How was he still fucking this up worse than Owen? Fucking hell.

Maybe she was right. Maybe they didn"t know enough about each other.

No, she was right. There was still so much he didn"t know. Like, how she took her coffee, or whether or not she would even enjoy the stew he was heating up. He had planned on opening a can of deer meat, but he didn"t know if she would enjoy the gamey taste. He didn"t know if he should add more spices, once he had settled on opening the beef instead. He didn"t know if he should pull out milk or sugar. He didn"t know the little things, the things that impacted each day.

But he could learn that, in time. If things had gone according to his original plan, they could have spent all winter learning the small things about one another, helping to prepare them for a lifetime with one another.

A lifetime that was now feeling impossible.

He could do it. He could have a baby with her, and then stay away, only involved whenever she allowed it. He would miss the fuck out of her, miss the small moments, miss the moments of tenderness and in turn miss so much of their child growing, but in time, perhaps she would learn to trust him again. Perhaps, one day, he would be allowed to stay.

Fuck. He was in love with her, no matter what she thought. He knew enough about her to know that he was in love with her. Nothing else mattered to him beyond that fact. He was in love with her, and if she gave him the chance to prove it, he would show it with his actions before he ever even said it. Clearly, she wouldn"t believe him if he actually said it, but if she would just give him the time to show her that he was a man she could trust, he would never hurt her ever again.

The shower turned off right as he was taking the soup pot off the flame, and he waited for the bathroom door to open, only instead to hear her moving around in the bathroom. He knew it would take a few minutes for her to get dressed, but he had no idea what else she was doing in there, so rather than awkwardly stand there watching the door and being caught snooping on her, he busied himself by pulling out two bowls, spoons, and every container of seasoning and hot sauce he thought she might want. The coffee was still hot, so he poured two cups and set them on the counter, then reached around in his cabinets and ice box for sugar, cinnamon, milk, and the small jar of heavier cream.

Whatever she needed, he didn't want her to ask for it. He would show he was a capable provider, seeing to her every desire before she ever even had to mention it. He wanted to show that he cared, that he would always be able to give her what she needed.

And if she did ask for something else, he would write it to memory and never forget.

The bathroom door opened right as he placed the lid on the pot, and he looked up to see her now dressed and smelling flowery. Her face was damp, like she had put something on it, and her hair was wrapped up in something that looked like a rag on the top of her head. He wanted to question it, to learn more about her, but he figured she would explain eventually.

Learning about her. That was all he aimed to do. Learn about her and see to her needs, so she never felt as though he was lacking.

"Feel any better after your shower?" he asked as she made her way to the kitchen counter, thankfully without any bags in her hands. That meant her shower stuff was all still in the bathroom, where it belonged, sitting beside his own things. He wanted her unpacked, sooner rather than later. It made her stay feel more permanent, and like she wasn"t rushing back to town.

"Yes," she answered, her voice soft as she reached the counter and stared down at the two bowls. "This looks good."

"Beef stew," he supplied, before she could even ask. "Made with vegetables we grew in the garden this summer. We can and preserve most of our own food. Makes it easier to eat good all winter long."

"Beef?" she questioned as she took a seat on one of the bar stools. "Not venison?"

"I have that too, but didn"t know if you had a taste for it. Some people say it"s too gamey."

"I"m a mountain girl, Cedric. I know what venison tastes like. Beef is good too, though."

And there, now he knew something more about her. One small thing to add to the short list of things he knew about the woman he loved.

She picked up her spoon and blew on the steaming broth before she took her first taste, and nodded her head slightly before reaching for all of the containers he had set out for her. She turned a few of them, looking at each one, before settling on one of the sauces he had made himself from peppers he liked to grow. She picked it up and took a sniff, then flipped the bottle over to put some on her finger for a taste.

"It"s pretty hot, but I made that one myself," he pointed out, proud of his work. The blend was one he had worked on for a few years, after Gareth had started making his own and the spice level had made Cedric bathe in the icy cold river. "What do you think?"

She had plopped her finger into her mouth and sucked, making Cedric"s mouth go dry, and nodded her head before adding a few drops to the stew and stirring it around. "I"m impressed."

And now his cock was hard and his heart was racing and he wanted to lick hot sauce from her skin... which was probably a sign he was losing it because that wouldn't end well.

But fuck, she smelled delectable. Even under the soft florals on her skin and hair, he could smell her ovulation, and it made him want to beg.

And he would beg, if only she gave a sign she would be open to it.

"I don"t think we should have sex while I"m ovulating," she announced, making him freeze where he was. "Not this cycle, but not entirely because of our fight."

He didn"t know what other reasons there could be that she would want to wait, but he was open and ready to hear them.

"Whatever you think is best," he offered, forcing himself to move a little while he spoke and reaching for his own bowl.

"When you come off birth control, it can mess with things in your system. Your hormones aren"t optimal, and I wouldn"t want to risk it. Wouldn"t want to risk losing the pregnancy. I would want it out of my system entirely first."

That made sense for humans, but he was positive his bear sperm and pheromones were strong enough to push through whatever effects the birth control would have on her. Still, he wouldn"t say that. She hadn"t seemed to like it when he talked about her body earlier, and besides, he was a man. If she said birth control fucked with things, then he could wait. He would wait.

"Makes sense. It also gives me another cycle to earn your trust."

Bethany didn"t say anything, and he watched, waiting for a response or a sign as she continued eating, her gaze focused on her bowl. Did she not want him to earn her trust, or did she no longer think that was possible?

"And after I"m pregnant, what happens next?"

Her words were very quiet, and he thought about it, thought about it hard. He wanted to do right by her, to take care of her, to be by her side always, but he knew that wasn"t what she was ready to hear, nor something she expected of him.

"What happens next is up to you. I"ll follow your lead. You tell me what you want from me, and it"s done."

"And if I never want to see you again?" she asked in a rush, finally looking up at him. "What if I leave and tell you to never come looking for me?"

The very thought killed him.

While he knew there was a possibility that it would be an end to them, he didn"t think she would actually end all communication with him and he would never see her or the cub. Was she prepared to raise a bear shifter child by herself? And how would she avoid him, given that her cousin and closest family member was with his brother. Would they be strangers, then? Would Owen know his child better than he did?

"I don"t think you would ask that of me," Cedric answered with a sigh as he dropped his head, no longer able to look at her.

"If I can"t trust you and I think you"re a danger to me or the baby, I will."

"But I"m not," he pointed out, and shifted along the counter to stand directly across from her. His hands planted on the counter and he forced himself to look up at her. She wasn"t crying, meanwhile, he felt like he wanted to. "And I plan to prove that to you. Prove that you can trust me. Prove that I"m someone you would want to raise a baby with. I"ll follow your lead, but whatever happens, know that I"m willing to give more than you would probably ever ask me for."

"And you"re fine with that? Fine with me raising a baby without you? Fine with..."

"Sunshine, you want a baby, and I don"t think I could stomach it if you had one with anyone else. You aren"t ready to hear all the things I have to say to you, and that"s fine. We got another month until you"re ready to even try, and nine months after that if it even takes. We got time to figure it out."

"Okay then." She was staring back at him, and he took a deep breath before looking away from her and remembering the coffee cups on the counter beside him. He reached for one and set it in front of her, and she took the cup, still black, and took a sip. "Do you have any—"

"Cream, milk, sugar, cinnamon. Whatever you want, I have."

He was trying to not think about the prospect of not being there for her, and instead focused on the present. What he could do now. What he could do to show her he cared.

"Cream and sugar. Thank you."

She prepared her coffee while he picked up his own and sipped it, black. The bitterness felt like ash on his tongue, but he didn"t think he could stand to taste anything sweet that wasn"t her.

A life without Bethany in it.

The very thought killed him.