Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

ZANE

When brown bears flash an open-mouth grin, it usually means, ‘‘Let’s play!” But if they happen to spot a tasty snack—for example, a camper’s sausage—that playful expression is just as likely to mean, ‘Get in my mouth!’ Bears are ravenous creatures, and their appetites for their favorite treats are never satisfied.

—Bear Facts for Insomniacs, Episode 7

My hands shook as I turned on the water in the sink and attempted to brush my teeth. I was feeling completely topsy-turvy and out of sorts. We’d agreed to hook up for practice . Temporarily. But when I’d lain there with my head on Bear’s chest, enjoying the aftermath of our first practice session, suddenly, a tidal wave of doubts had washed over me.

I’d realized he hadn’t said much about what he wanted and what he was okay with. He’d kissed me after I’d suggested the agreement, but he hadn’t actually said much of anything. What if… what if he hadn’t felt like he was in a position to say no?

I shook my head at myself in the mirror. No. He definitely wanted it. There was no doubt in my mind he’d been turned on and totally down for the hookup… er, practice . He’d said he wanted a repeat. He’d said… he’d said I was beautiful.

And I’d taken those kind words and run with them. I’d erected beautiful imaginary castles in the air in my mind—happily ever afters in which I had a big grumpy bear looking out for me and I was the center of Ryan Galloway’s world. I’d done the stupid thing where I’d jumped from a one-night hookup to… well, everything dreamy and rainbow-colored.

A fairy tale.

But that wasn’t the way the real world was. In the real world, hookups didn’t have to mean anything. Guys fucked, exchanged happy orgasms, and went their separate ways. They didn’t… necessarily… demand cuddles and beg the other guy to stay all night.

Did they?

Certainly not when they’d just agreed to a temporary agreement of sorts.

So I’d been an adult. I’d done the mature, expected thing. “See you in the morning!” I’d chirped while sauntering off to…

I spit out a mouthful of paste in the sink and closed my eyes with a groan.

Second-guess. Perseverate. Worry. Obsess.

No wonder Bear didn’t push back when I ended the night. No wonder he didn’t beg to stay. I was a child. I had no idea what I was doing.

I was the very definition of awkward, acting like I’d never freaking kissed a man before.

But the reality was, when Bear’s lips brushed against mine, I’d felt like maybe I hadn’t ever truly kissed a man before. Because this was different. Ryan Galloway’s kiss put everyone else’s to shame.

I let out an embarrassing sound, something between a whimper and a frustrated sigh. For a man coming out of a very long dry spell, Bear kissed like a master of seduction.

After rinsing my mouth and washing my face, I opened the bathroom door, half hoping—okay, full hoping—he’d still be waiting in my bed, ready to laugh with me about my silly behavior.

He wasn’t.

I crawled onto the bed and hurled the big duvet back up to cover me. The scent of Bear lingered on the sheets, and I inhaled like a dental junkie on laughing gas.

My phone buzzed on the side table, and I rolled over to grab it.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Bear.

Landry

Do I want Don Angie’s Chrysanthemum Salad or the Peanut Chicken Salad from American Bar?

Just get the Pinwheel Lasagne and be done with it. We both know that’s what you really want.

Landry

Can’t. Runway show in Paris next week.

Wait. I thought you were already in Paris?

Landry

No. They changed it again. Fucking assholes. I leave day after tomorrow.

Then those salads aren’t your friend either. Get the Sesame Chicken Salad from Little Beet.

My mouth watered, remembering some of our favorite places in New York. I hated that I’d missed visiting there.

The reminder of the target stamp and subsequent email threat was enough to seriously harsh my post-double-orgasm vibe.

Landry

You slammed with work? You want to meet up for salad? If you get the lasagne, I can have a bite or twelve.

I stared at the screen as I realized I’d never told the guys I was skipping New York.

I’m not in the city. Change of plans. Sorry.

Landry

Are you still in Barlo? Everything okay with Gran?

All is well. I’m in a tiny town in Europe. Long story. But also, I forgot to ask if we’re going to Majestic for Christmas. You still good with that? Dev said we can all stay with them and start settling into our own rooms in his and Tully’s place.

Landry

Europe? How very unspecific. Why?

I’m thinking about getting an extra guitar to leave in Majestic so I can have one there in case I ever visit unannounced.

Landry

Mr. Fine is being Mr. Mysterious. What’s going on?

No mystery. The team is being extra cautious before the next leg of the tour by parking me in the middle of nowhere to rest.

It wasn’t the truth, but it also wasn’t un true.

Landry

Hmm, mysterious vacation with Grumpy Bear in… Europe.

My stomach tightened at the mention of Bear, but I ignored Landry’s reference to him.

I’m working on a new song. Enjoying the peace and quiet. It’s nice.

Or it had been. Until a literal year’s worth of frustrated longing for my bodyguard had exploded into a giant forest fire of need and want… and overthinking.

Landry

Nice.

I closed my eyes and let out a breath. Leave it to fucking Landry to be provoking.

It’s late here. I’m going to sleep. Get the lasagne. You can afford to enjoy yourself, even if you’re a little bloated on the runway.

I still had no idea why Landry killed himself to stay runway ready when he was already a billionaire, but then again, people would say the same about me if they knew about the money I’d made with the brotherhood.

Landry

Kiss that big, beautiful bodyguard for me.

His message was nothing but a tease. He’d have no way of knowing I’d actually done it and that I hoped (and planned and dreamed) of doing it again as soon as possible.

But still, my cheeks lit on fire, and I scrambled to think of a way to respond that wouldn’t tip my hand.

“You can just… not respond,” I warned myself before forcing myself to toss the phone back on the nightstand.

I blew out a breath and tried to calm down, but memories of Bear—of his possessive mouth, his talented tongue, and his gorgeous bear-sized cock—flooded my brain.

The bed was simultaneously too hot and too cold. Too hard and too soft. Too smooth and also itchy. I’d become freaking Goldilocks… except I was actually wishing for a Bear to come and share my bed.

Even after I turned on my podcast, it took forever for sleep to come, but when it did, it was deep and peaceful.

Until I awoke the next morning to the sound of something metal being thrown against the side of the house. I froze in place, suddenly demanding my sleep-fogged brain make sense of the noise. When I heard a muttered curse, I called out.

“B-bear?”

The rule was for me to stay in place or hide if I ever thought I was in danger. Bear or someone else on my team would come. Was that what this was?

“Zane? You awake?”

I moved to the edge of the bed and started to climb out. “Yeah? Did something happen?”

“You okay?” This time, his voice was close, just on the other side of my door. “Can I come in?”

I stood up and opened the door for him. He was dressed in workout clothes, his cheeks pink and his hair wind-blown like he’d just come back from a run. He didn’t look concerned, so I forced myself to chill. “What happened? It sounded like someone threw something at the house.”

The air was cold outside of my duvet cocoon, so I reached for a nearby sweatshirt to pull on over my pajama bottoms.

“No, shit. Sorry. That was me. I dropped a pan on the floor. I was…” He looked a little sheepish. “I was going to cook you that spinach breakfast casserole you like.”

I stared at him. “Gran’s breakfast casserole?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded before looking down at my bare feet. “I read an article last night that said spinach is good for your voice. It’s rich in nutrients like magnesium and potassium, which fosters healthy mucous membranes.”

That was what he’d been doing after he left me last night? My stomach filled with sassy little butterflies. “You worried about my voice, Bear?”

His eyes flicked up to mine and back down to the ground. “Sure. I mean, always. So, anyway, I got out the pan to brown the sausage, but then I remembered I… uh… don’t know how to cook.”

I swallowed the laughter that wanted to come barreling out.

This guy.

He was so freaking nice. He liked to act like a grumpy bear, but he wasn’t. Not at all.

I reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it so he had to stumble closer to me or risk ripping the shirt. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.”

He stumbled toward me and put his hands on my hips to keep from knocking me over. I let out a breath of relief at having his hands on me again. “I didn’t actually do anything, though,” he admitted. “Maybe it’s the thought that counts?”

I nodded and stepped even closer until my chest brushed his. “Definitely. Besides, there’s still time for you to do it. I can show you how.”

His eyes came up to stare at my lips. “How’s your voice today? Sounds… okay?”

I grinned at him, borrowing confidence from the knowledge he would have never offered to make one of my favorite breakfasts if he didn’t still think well of me. “Dunno. Have a look and tell me if you see anything off.” I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, leaning back to expose my throat to him as provocatively as I could.

Just as I noticed his eyes widening in surprise, the horrifying thought occurred to me that, despite a thorough toothbrushing job last night, I might have post-horseradish death mouth.

I snapped my teeth closed without remembering to pull my tongue back in first and then yelped and clapped my hands in front of my face. Tears sprang to my eyes as the pain registered. Poor Bear’s face fell as he realized what had happened.

“Zane! ”

“I’m okay,” I tried to say. “Not that bad.”

He shuffled me into the bathroom and sat me down on the back of the toilet seat while he filled a cup with cold water from the tap. I couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in his running tights since it was right there at eye level.

“Here. Let the cold water sit on your tongue and see if it helps.”

It did. But so did the eye candy. When I finally recovered, I tried to act like the incident was no big deal. “You ready for your cooking lesson?”

Bear tried to hide a smile but failed. “Nice try. Show me your tongue.”

I glared at him. “Unnecessary. I’m fine.”

His eyes narrowed at the word. “ Fine . You? Seems unusual. Tongue. Now.”

I ran my tongue along my teeth to check for tender spots. Thankfully, the damage was minimal, but I wasn’t about to open my mouth at him, just in case I’d also be unleashing morning-after Secret Sauce dragon breath. “Back away,” I said with one hand covering my mouth and the other making a “shoo” motion.

He put his hands up and backed away a few paces. I moved to the sink and brushed my teeth for a solid five minutes before wiping my mouth and presenting him with my tongue. “Fee? Fime,” I said around my tongue.

His eyes twinkled as he peered into my mouth. “Yes. It looks quite fime. Fime indeed.”

Bear shifted his weight, accidentally drawing my attention to the front of his running tights again. I tried not to stare as I cleared my throat. “I should, ah, get dressed. So… so we can eat. Sausage. So we can cook . Sausage. And then, um. Eat it. With the other stuff. Mixed in.”

He tilted his head at me, his lips now smirking to match the twinkle in his eyes. At least one of us was enjoying ourselves.

“What’s happening right now?” he asked.

I want to suck your cock again .

“Nothing,” I said in a high-pitched voice, shaking my head to dispel the intrusive thought. “Nothing at all. I’m fine.”

“Yes. Fine . Excellent,” he said drily. “Then I’ll wait for you in the kitchen while you get dressed. Sorry about the noise earlier.”

“No problem,” I said with excessive cheer as I escorted him out of the room and closed the door behind him.

I turned my back to the door and sank to the floor. “Jesus fuck.”

Maybe the reason I’d never had a boyfriend in all these years wasn’t really because of Noelle’s strictures. Maybe Noelle’s scary advice had actually saved me from making a colossal fool out of myself in front of men.

Because if this was the way I was around men I liked, I was in a heap ton of trouble.

I took my time getting dressed, mostly because halfway through, I gave up the fight and jerked off in the bathroom to images of Bear’s junk crammed in running tights. When I finally emerged from my room, I was much more relaxed and ready to face the day, even though I knew I was sporting a beet-red face.

“So, I chopped everything up,” Bear said as I came into the kitchen. “But I didn’t trust myself to brown the meat without your help.”

The scent of coffee filled the air, and warm sunlight slanted in through the large number of windows in the open space. As I approached the coffee maker, he pointed to a mug already poured and ready for me. “Get a few sips down, but then I need you to help me get this going. It says it has to go in the oven for twenty minutes, and I’m starving.”

I did as he said, secretly giddy that he’d made my coffee exactly the way I liked it. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, but the thrill of being cared for never went away. My life hadn’t been the kind that had included pampering or spoiling of any kind. Yes, my gran loved me, always had. But she’d also worked hard raising or half raising grandkids, supporting her own kids when they went through stages of high need, and holding down various jobs to keep food on the table. There hadn’t been time, money, or energy left at the end of the day to pamper anyone.

Which was why this simple gesture meant the world to me.

I took the first sip as I began talking him through the process of browning the sausage. He’d already preheated the oven and had everything else prepped on the counter.

“How do you know how to do this stuff?” he asked as I moved around him to hand him various spices and instruct him on how much to add.

“Gran made all of us learn. We had to do our share growing up. She was especially diligent with me and JK since she insisted men needed to be helpful to their wives.”

We shared a snicker over that. “Your poor nonexistent wife,” he teased. “Doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

“I would have been a hell of a husband,” I joked. “Always gone.”

“Making millions,” he added.

“Always exhausted.”

“Beloved by the world,” Bear pointed out.

I made a joke to cover my discomfort. “Always dreaming about sucking dick.”

He laughed. “Ah, therein lies the rub.”

“Poor wife.”

“I believe you mean poor Carrie-Beth,” he tossed back with a smirk before adding the drained sausage to the rest of the ingredients.

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

Bear bounced his eyebrows at me. “You touched her boob once. She’s clearly never forgotten. It must have been epic. She’s fantasized about becoming Mrs. Hendley and having mini Hendleys ever since.”

“Barlos, more like,” I tossed out, not really meaning much by it. But the correction erased Bear’s teasing grin.

“Yeah, probably. Sorry. I hate that for you.”

I shrugged. “I’m used to it. It’s fine.”

He slid the casserole dish into the oven and set a timer on his phone before walking up to me and putting his hands on my sides. He lifted me up and set me on the counter before pushing between my legs and wrapping his arms around my back. “Why do you do that?”

Bear was so close. So tempting. I wanted to do so many things. Kiss him wildly. Bury my face in his chest and simply breathe him in. Ask him if we could get naked in bed and spend the rest of the day fucking.

Confess that I had a crush on him and fantasized about him being more than my bodyguard.

“Do what?” I asked nervously. Did any of those thoughts show on my face?

“Say you’re fine all the fucking time,” he growled. “Fucking drives me fucking crazy.”

“That’s a lot of fucks,” I said, hearing the breathy sound in my voice. He was so close. So hot. So incredibly open to kissing and touching me. Why were we talking right now?

His big hand came up to hold my face so he could peer into it. “I said this the other day, but in case you’ve forgotten: I don’t want your fines , Zane. I want your real feelings. But here’s the thing… I don’t think you tell yourself your real feelings. I don’t think you let yourself have any.”

I inhaled a shaky breath. “That’s… a lot for first thing in the morning.”

And it was the opposite of sexy.

Bear studied me for a moment. “Want me to back off?” He started to pull away, but I grabbed his shirt and held him close.

“No.”

He studied me again but didn’t say anything. I smoothed his shirt over his chest and stomach as an excuse to feel the ridges of muscles beneath it.

“I, ah…” I looked down at my hand and the smooth performance fabric. For some reason, a trivia factoid hit my brain. “This fabric is ca lled Elustre. It’s, um. Environmentally friendly or something. I read an article on it once.”

“Zane. If you don’t want to talk about it…”

I kept studying the fabric. “I have to be fine, Bear. A lot of people are counting on me.”

His hand came up to toy with my hair. I loved how obsessed he was with running his fingers through it. “It’s okay to not be fine, Z.”

“But I am fine. I am .”

He stepped closer and kissed the top of my head. “Okay.” He started to turn around as if letting it go, but I realized I didn’t want to.

I grabbed his shirt again. “Wait.”

For as grumpy and commanding as Bear sometimes was, he was also incredibly gentle and patient with me. He exuded a calm I didn’t often feel these days.

He stepped close again and ran his hands up my thighs. “Talk to me… and not like I’m someone with expectations of you.”

“I just…” I took a breath and exhaled. “I just feel like I’ve been given this gift. This chance to help people. Help kids in situations like I was in. Help adults like my parents and my grandmother. Because of this job, I get to employ lots of people. Pay them good wages and offer good benefits. I get to give a ton of money away to charity and…” I let out another breath. “How the hell am I allowed to complain or stress or… or want things to be different… when I have everything?”

My throat tightened in fear that he wouldn’t understand. That he would think I was entitled. That I was making a mountain out of a molehill.

“And really,” I continued nervously, “in the grand scheme of things, I don’t have anything to complain or stress about, and I don’t really want things to be different… much. Saying I’m fine is about keeping things in perspective. No matter how bad things are for me, they’re seriously so much better than they are for almost everyone else in that world. You know?”

He made a sound of disapproval in his throat. “No, I don’t know. You’re allowed to feel sad and scared and upset. You’re allowed to put your own needs first. You’re allowed to admit you’re tired. Remember that you’re a role model to millions, Z. You can show people it’s okay to take a break.”

“I am taking a break!” I squawked. “I’m going to Majestic for Christmas.”

“Good. But it will also be the first vacation you’ve taken in a year, with the exception of a few days here and there.”

“Same with you,” I snapped back like a petulant child. “Your holiday visit to Montana will be your first break since you came to work for me.”

He nodded. “Not quite the same thing, but okay.”

“You work hard, too,” I pointed out.

“I sit around and shoot people evil looks while bossing around a diva celebrity,” he said, a grin teasing the edge of his mouth. “It’s not that hard.”

I knew he didn’t actually believe I was a diva celebrity, but since being perceived as one was a big fear of mine, my face must have fallen.

“Zane, Jesus Christ,” he said, moving a hand up to clasp gently around the front of my throat. Blood shot straight to my dick so fast I almost swooned. “You’re the opposite of a diva. You never make demands.”

My brain went spinning. I want to demand you bend me over and put your cock in me.

“Right,” I breathed. Sexy images flashed through my mind like paparazzi lights.

“Hell, you hardly even make requests.”

I request for you to kiss me. Touch me. Suck me. I request it now. This very minute.

“Uh-huh.”

Bear tilted his head. “What are you thinking?”

I blinked at him and pushed the sexy thoughts away. “I’m thinking I would like to eat that sausage,” I said.

As soon as my own words penetrated, my mouth dropped open, and I began trying to explain.

Mistake. Big mistake.

“Not your sausage,” I clarified. “The casserole sausage.”

Bear’s eyebrows shot up, and I realized that might have sounded offensive.

“I mean, your sausage also. I definitely want to taste that again. Nothing wrong with that sausage. But that’s not the sausage I meant.”

His eyebrows got even higher. Did he still have enough forehead real estate for that?

Can I say sausage more than I already have?

I licked my lips before pressing them closed and wishing with all my might that saliva was, just for this one tiny moment, Super Glue.

“You want to taste my sausage, Zane?” His hand was still around the front of my throat, and I felt every fingertip making contact with my skin.

“I don’t even know why we got on this subject. I’d rather talk about me being a diva.” I locked eyes with him. “About me, uh… giving commands.”

He let out a little laugh. “You want to give commands, Z?”

I shook my head, feeling the press of his warm fingers as they took the opportunity to slide up into my hair. Bear stepped closer until his bulge pressed against mine. “No,” I breathed. “Not really.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He leaned in so slowly I stopped breathing, turning my face slightly so our lips would brush. But he bypassed my lips and moved his mouth to my ear. “Be patient, little one,” he murmured before pressing a kiss under my ear and another behind my ear. “God, you taste so good. Sweet, like honey.”

“B-bears like honey,” I pointed out as he ran more open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck.

“More than you know.”

I swallowed. “I want…”

My thoughts and words scattered as he sucked on a patch of skin at the base of my throat .

“You want…?”

“You’re the worst,” I moaned. I moved my hands into Bear’s dark hair. “I don’t know what I was even saying. You’re distracting me.”

“Want me to stop?” he offered insincerely.

“You fucking crazy?” I asked, voice hoarse.

“We back to our deal, Zane?”

“Deal?” It was impossible to focus when his hands and mouth were on me.

“You and me, practicing in Norway?”

My brain was officially offline. There was no man on Earth who’d be able to focus with this giant, gorgeous man marking a delicious trail along the collar of their shirt. “Uh-huh.”

“Excellent.” Bear pulled away. “But not right now.”

Just as I was about to snap out a curse at him for teasing me with such cruelty, the timer on his phone went off. I shot it a death glare, which only made Bear laugh as he moved away to check the casserole. My only satisfaction was noticing him adjust himself in his running tights.

As soon as he turned away from me to lean over the oven, I drank my fill of his ass.

He started talking to me about nonsense. Another article he’d read on vocal exercises for professional opera singers. A podcast he’d come across on using steam to pamper your vocal cords before demanding performances. These were all things I’d already heard before from my vocal coaches, but I was touched he’d spent so much time going down a rabbit hole with me in mind.

By the time he served the food onto plates and moved us over to the dining table, I’d calmed down a little.

After all, we had time. This Norway trip was scheduled to last another week—seven glorious days and nights of touching and kissing and experimenting with my very own Bear—and maybe for once, I would go all diva. Maybe I’d demand we spend pretty much the entire time naked in bed…

But that wasn’t what happened.