Chapter Four

While Killian held the sleeping cub inches above the mattress, Stewart scrambled to get the flat sheet on and tucked in, careful not to bump the hovering toddler.

After the last corner was secured, Killian gently lowered Ethan. Stewart lay a blanket over him before tucking it around the boy and turning him into a tiny burrito.

“Teamwork,” Stewart whispered triumphantly. They high-fived over Ethan, their hands lingering like neither wanted to be the first to pull away. Killian’s skin tingled, their palms pressed together, momentarily forgetting to breathe.

But he felt the slight tremor in Stewart’s hand and caught the uncertainty in the depths of his green eyes. A vulnerability his mate was afraid to expose.

Killian smiled, pretending everything was perfectly normal. Like there wasn’t a strong attraction between them that Stewart was fighting against and Killian wanted to explore.

Gently, he lay the stuffed bear against Ethan, still shaking his head at the inside joke. The moment felt comfortable and easy, like they’d been a family for years instead of less than a day.

But as much as Stewart smiled and teased, Killian knew his mate was holding something back. He could feel it in the air between them. The secret Ethan had confided in him.

That only made the realization hit Killian harder than ever. If he wanted Stewart to trust him with his secrets, Killian would have to share his own.

He would have to tell Stewart the truth. That he was a bear shifter and the human standing so close to him, making his pulse race, was his mate.

They crept out of Ethan’s room, then made Stewart’s bed next. Killian watched the focused way his mate moved, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the curve of his lips when he muttered under his breath. More than once, their arms brushed as they worked, sending little sparks of awareness shooting between them.

Stewart’s scent, clean and warm, filled Killian’s senses, and the urge to pull him close surged with every breath. But he bit it back. Not yet. Not until he found out what was making his mate so jittery.

After setting up the baby gate, Killian started a fire in the fireplace, feeling Stewart’s eyes on him the entire time.

It was hard to concentrate, though, with the way Stewart kept glancing over at him, as if trying to figure him out.

Satisfied his mate and the cub were warm and safe, Killian reluctantly turned to say goodnight to Stewart. He didn’t want to leave. Every cell in his body yearned to stay close, to bridge the small distance between them. The pull toward Stewart was strong—fierce, even—but Killian could tell the guy was still nervous, still unsure, and he wasn’t going to push his mate.

“Did you make sure the back door was locked?” Killian knew full well Stewart had already checked. He was stalling, trying to think of any excuse to delay leaving. He needed more time, needed to be near Stewart just a little longer.

Something in the man’s body language told Killian that Stewart wasn’t ready for him to leave either.

“I checked it twice, at your insistence.” Stewart smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching in a way that made Killian’s heart beat faster. “Should I try for a third? The deadbolt and lock might have magically disengaged since I last checked it five minutes ago.”

Killian chuckled, but the sound came out rougher than he intended. “You never know. Locks are sneaky like that. They pull all kinds of stunts when you’re not looking.” He moved closer to the fire, needing something to do with his hands, though the house was already warm.

“I’ve heard that about them.”

His gaze flicked to Stewart, noting the nervous way he rubbed his arms, despite the heat from the fire. “You cold?”

“No, no,” Stewart mumbled. “Just…getting used to everything.”

Killian spotted the way Stewart’s eyes flickered over him, as if he, too, felt something brewing between them, something his mate wasn’t quite ready to address.

“I guess you have to leave now,” Stewart added, his voice softer, less sure.

Killian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watched Stewart, really watched him. The guy was wound tight, like any sudden movement might make him jump. Stewart shifted his weight from one foot to the other, avoiding his gaze.

Killian’s gut told him his mate’s nervousness wasn’t just about being in a strange house. It had something to do with what Ethan had mentioned earlier, about the bad man who had hurt his uncle.

The thought of someone laying a hand on Stewart, of Ethan seeing the violence, caused Killian’s jaw to clench tight. He felt protective rage rising his throat. Wanted to act like a caveman pounding his chest and kill anyone who meant them harm.

No one, least of all a kid, should live in fear. But, as badly as Killian wanted to insist on staying, Stewart needed time. He needed space, but he also needed to feel safe—and not just in the house.

“You think, uh, maybe you could stick around a little longer?” There was a crack in Stewart’s voice, an edge that made Killian’s chest ache. His mate’s gaze darted away like he wasn’t sure if he’d made a mistake.

Killian wasn’t going anywhere. “To make sure the locks don’t disengage on their own, of course.”

“Of course.” Tension visibly drained from Stewart’s shoulders, though his eyes still held a flicker of wariness. But Killian saw it, the way his gaze lingered on him just a little too long before flicking away, like he was trying to work out just what kind of man Killian really was. There was still wariness, yes, but also something else. A sparkle of curiosity. Definitely attraction. “You never know with those locks.”

A grin tugged at Killian’s lips. “Told you, they can be sneaky.”

“Since there’s a crackling fire, we need two glasses of apple cider. I’ll be right back,” Stewart said, and Killian swore the guy’s voice had grown a little huskier.

His mate was, without a doubt, throwing off hella mixed signals. Stewart was fighting hard against the pull. Killian wasn’t fighting his attraction, not by a long shot. He had no reason to. Stewart was his mate. That bond was undeniable, and he had all the time in the world to wait for Stewart to figure it out.

As soon as Stewart disappeared into the kitchen, Killian dropped onto the couch, yanking his boots off with a sigh of relief.

Today had started with him spotting his mate on the side of the road, broken down and looking like he was at his wit’s end. He’d seen how Stewart had tucked the toddler into the car with such care, his body braced for some kind of danger from the approaching bikers.

Even before realizing Stewart was his mate, Killian had been drawn to him—his protectiveness, his strength in the face of fear.

Now, as he sat here, the fire crackling in the hearth, the flames casting shadows on the walls, his mind was far from relaxed. It swirled with thoughts of his mate and how much he wanted to reach out, to close the gap between them. To show Stewart just how safe he and Ethan were with him.

The human had no clue just how badly Killian wanted to protect him, but also how much he wanted to feel Stewart’s warmth pressed against his body.

When Stewart returned, he handed Killian one of the mugs, their fingers brushing briefly. It was damn hard to miss the way Stewart’s breath hitched or the way his cheeks flushed.

“Thanks.” Killian took a sip of the hot cider, groaning at how good it tasted.

“You’re welcome.” Stewart sat, deliberately leaving space between them, but it was cool. Killian wasn’t in a rush. For now, just spending time with his mate was enough.

* * * *

Stewart groaned at the warmth surrounding him, a comforting, heavy heat that cocooned him in a haze of contentment. He shifted slightly, realizing his face was pressed into something solid and... breathing? His eyes flicked open, his heart skipping a million beats at the sight before him.

Killian.

The big guy was tucked against the back of the couch, one arm resting along the length of his body, his face relaxed in sleep. Stewart was pressed against Killian’s chest, able to feel the steady rise and fall of the man’s breathing.

They were both still dressed, which meant neither of them had instinctively kicked off clothes in their sleep.

A flush of warmth spread up Stewart’s neck as he became fully aware of their position. Somehow during the night, he’d ended up draped against Killian’s side, practically burrowed into him.

Stewart’s gaze drifted over Killian’s features, taking in his aquiline nose, the strong line of his jaw, and the scruff that had grown darker overnight. He breathed heavily, evenly in his sleep, a peaceful expression on his face.

It was unfair, really—the guy looked annoyingly gorgeous, even when he was unconscious.

But it was more than that. Stewart’s attraction to Killian went deeper. It wasn’t just the muscles or the handsome features. It was how kind Killian had been since meeting him. The way he’d helped without expecting anything in return, as well as the way he’d taken to Ethan, the two of them becoming instant buddies.

Never judge a book by its cover.

Killian had turned out to be the exact opposite of Stewart’s initial impression of him when he’d seen the motorcycles approaching yesterday morning.

They hadn’t been a group of troublemakers. They’d been a group of kindhearted men.

Stewart traced the arch of Killian’s eyebrows with the pad of his finger, jealous of how absurdly long the man’s lashes were, and how his parted lips were so perfectly shaped. Lips he was dying to kiss.

The way Killian had held him all night—like it was instinctive—made something twist inside Stewart’s chest.

He wanted this.

Wanted it so badly it scared him.

The vulnerability of letting someone in again, of laying his trust in someone’s hands, terrified Stewart.

He snatched his hand away when Killian’s eyes slid open, blinking a few times as if to clear away the remnants of sleep. Then his gaze landed on Stewart, and for a brief moment, the world around them seemed to vanish.

“Morning,” Killian said, his voice still husky from sleep, his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled.

“Morning,” Stewart managed to whisper, barely able to keep his voice steady. “You are the most comfortable body pillow.”

“Oh yeah?” Killian smiled roguishly, the arm around Stewart tightening a little. “I’ll add that to my social media profiles.”

After he discovered Clive had been snooping through his accounts, Stewart had deleted them all, pissed that Clive had violated their trust.

“So is this couch. I didn’t think it would be from the way it looked.”

“Right?” Killian’s chuckle was just as husky as his morning voice. “I was stunned last night when the doorbell rang. I thought for sure it didn’t work.”

“I thought the exact same thing,” Stewart confessed. He forced himself not to stare at Killian’s lips, even though he craved to kiss them. It would be so easy to give in to the feelings that seemed to become stronger with every minute he spent around the guy.

But what if Stewart did and ruined their budding friendship? What if he wasn’t ready to dive back into the dating pool, afraid of drowning again instead of finally swimming?

What if he stopped worrying so damn much?

Stewart liked that option a lot better. Before he lost his nerve, he leaned in, brushing his lips over Killian’s, only halfway closing the distance and letting Killian bring it home.

The guy didn’t disappoint. He teased Stewart’s mouth, a quick intake of breath, like he was surprised Stewart had made the first move. Killian’s lips glided over Stewart’s in a slow, deliberate kiss that seemed to melt away every ounce of fear Stewart had been holding on to.

I knew his lips would feel as soft as they looked. I just knew it.

Killian explored Stewart’s mouth hungrily, tasting like the apple cider from the night before.

“Wanted to kiss you so badly.” Killian’s voice was a rumble in his chest. His hand drifted down Stewart’s back, then Killian cupped his ass.

Panic flared, sharp and sudden. Stewart scrambled off the couch, his heart pounding way too fast as he took a few steps back. “I—I’m going to check on Ethan.”

Killian’s gaze searched Stewart’s, but he didn’t say anything. He simply nodded, giving Stewart the space he so clearly needed.

Pivoting, Stewart hurried up the stairs, his thoughts a tangled mess. Despite how drawn he was to Killian, his past still had him in a chokehold, refusing to let go.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Stewart found himself facing the baby gate—the one Killian had put up the night before. He stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out how to open the dang thing. He pushed, pulled, twisted... nothing. The latch remained stubbornly in place. He muttered a curse under his breath, feeling a spike of frustration.

“Oh, come on!” He gave it a harder tug. Still nothing. It was like the gate was mocking him, refusing to let him pass because he’d run from Killian.

With a frustrated sigh, Stewart glanced around then decided screw it. He hiked his leg over the gate, awkwardly climbing over it. Halfway through, he got stuck, his foot catching on the top bar. He wobbled for a moment before he managed to swing the rest of the way over, landing with an undignified thump on the other side.

Brushing himself off with as much dignity as he could muster, Stewart made his way to Ethan’s room. He pushed open the door to find his nephew sitting up in bed, his hair sticking up in all directions, his eyes wide as he stared at Stewart.

“Hey, buddy,” Stewart said, his voice softening as he walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, and then smoothed down Ethan’s hair. “How’d you sleep?”

The toddler stared at him then smiled, his little teeth peeking out. “Good,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

Stewart’s chest ached as he looked at his nephew. He had to protect this little guy, had to make sure he was safe and happy. And that meant being careful about who he let into their lives. But... he was drawn to Killian—to his kindness, his gentleness with Ethan, for staying just because Stewart had asked.

And the amazing way he kisses.

“You know,” Stewart said, his voice barely a whisper, “I really like Killian. But my insides are all jumbled. What do you think I should do?”

A sleepy smile spread across Ethan’s face, his tiny hand reaching out to pat Stewart’s cheek. “Uncuh Stewalulu,” he said, his voice bright and cheerful.

Stewart softly chuckled. God, he loved this kid. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

“Where Uncuh Kill?”

It was clear Stewart wasn’t the only one becoming attached to Killian. “Let’s go see what he’s up to.”

They paused at the top of the stairs, his nephew glancing up at him. This time Stewart decided to tackle the gate properly, so he looked closely at the latch. After a minute of fiddling, he finally managed to get it open, and he let out a triumphant huff.

“Victory!” No damn thick piece of plastic was going to defeat him.

“Vip-oh-me!” Ethan giggled.

Stewart carried the toddler down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, the most incredible aromas hit Stewart’s nose—bacon, eggs, and... was that pancakes? He walked into the kitchen to find Killian at the stove, a spatula in hand as he flipped a pancake with practiced ease.

The sight of Killian seeming so at home made Stewart’s heart do a little flip of its own.

“Uncuh Kill!” Ethan called out, his voice filled with excitement.

Killian turned, a smile spreading across his face. “Well, good morning, cub,” he said, his gaze sliding to Stewart, lingering for a moment.

Yes, I’m a coward. I’m also going to pretend the whole kissing then running thing never happened. “Smells delicious in here.”

Killian nodded toward the table. “Why don’t you guys have a seat? Breakfast is almost ready.”

This was a scenario Stewart could get used to. It felt so domestic, and he loved watching a hunky male cooking at the stove.

Oh, shut up. You ran from the hunky male, remember?

Ignoring his nagging inner voice, Stewart placed Ethan in the booster seat they’d picked up at the store the day before. Then he pulled out a chair and sat, resting his chin on his hand while he watched Killian cook. The muscles in his back and arms shifted with everything he did, muscles Stewart remembered being smashed against on the couch.

There was an ease to the way Killian moved, a confidence that made Stewart’s chest tighten, worried he’d fucked things up between them.

As Killian set a plate of pancakes on the table, his hand brushed against Stewart’s. It was a light touch, barely there, but it sent a shiver through him. He glanced up, meeting Killian’s gaze. There was something in his eyes, something that made Stewart’s breath hitch.

“Thanks,” he said.

Killian smiled, his fingers lingering before he pulled them away. “Anytime.”

The tension between them was almost palpable as they stared at one another, a current that seemed to hum in the air. Stewart’s heart pounded, his body aching to close the distance between them, to feel Killian’s warmth again. But he stayed where he was, his hands resting on the table, his gaze flicking away.

“Eat up, cub.” Killian turned his attention to Ethan, who was already reaching for a pancake with eager fingers. “Got to make sure you grow up big and strong.”

Ethan giggled, his eyes bright as he looked at Killian. “Like Uncuh Kill?”

Killian laughed, ruffling Ethan’s hair. “Exactly like Uncle Kill,” he said, winking at Stewart.

A smile tugged at Stewart’s lips as a warmth spread through him. Maybe, just maybe, letting Killian in wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.