“Woman, will you let me finish,” he growled, “I know I am not the best when it comes to expressing myself, but you are anything but fat-”
“I know what magazines, television, and the internet consider beautiful in today’s world, but I have learned to be happy with myself,” she said quietly and dried the plate in her hands with a washcloth.
He loved the way she was so careful and meticulous no matter what she did. As if the task at hand was worth all her attention, and that of course, made him think how mindful she would be in other activities.
Grrr. He turned his mismatched eyes on her, raking them slowly up from her sock-covered feet to her pretty blonde hair. He noted the slight tremble of her hands by the time he reached her eyes and satisfaction pulsed through him along with the usual, heady dose of desire that he felt whenever she was close.
“Society can go fuck itself,” his gravelly voice sounded loud in the small space of his kitchen, “You’re so beautiful, Maya. Don’t you know that? Soft and rounded in all the right places,” he said eyes resting briefly on her abundant breasts.
His sensitive ears caught the hitch in her breath and Tonic became very aware of the lovely creature in front of him. She tempted him like no other. Teased his senses with promises of paradise by simply being.
The soft swells that shown above the scoop neck sweater she wore rose and fell with every breath she took, and he was mesmerized by the tiny shiver that seemed to dance across her exposed skin. Beneath her magnificent bosoms, her waist tapered inwards only to flare out once more over a sublime set of hips. Hips his fingers itched to hold.
Mine.
“Tonic,” she whispered his name and he could tell from the way she watched him, that she was unused to such blunt talk.
“I know I’m rough around the edges, Maya, but for you, I wish I was a poet. I wish I knew the right words to tell you how fucking gorgeous you are. Shit, maybe I’ll just show you,” he opened his mouth and narrowed his eyes, walking around the table until he stood beside her.
Tonic took her hand and tugged her away from the sink until she was directly in front of him. She was a solid foot shorter than him. Petite and feminine, everything he never knew he always wanted in a mate. That fragrant rose petal scent was all her, he realized with a deep rumble in his chest. The intoxicating aroma grew stronger the closer he got. He noticed her tremble again and frowned, wondering if it was fear or anticipation.
“I’d never hurt you, Maya,” he said.
It was important that she understood that. Tonic would cut off his right arm before he ever raised a hand to hurt any woman, but most especially this woman. His woman.
“I know,” her baby blue eyes glanced up, delving into his and Tonic had to stop himself from roaring aloud at the wonder he saw in them.
Could it be? Did she know even now what was running through his brain? And was it possible, even just a little bit, that she felt the same way?
“You’re not fat, or plump, or chubby,” he growled and this time instead of fighting the urge, he reached out with steady hands and put them on either side of her hips, tracing the curves he found with his fingertips while maintaining his hold.
He felt like a cowboy trying to hold onto a wild young filly, he mused. She tried to get her breathing under control, but Maya was shivering like mad. So was he, he realized as his ears picked up the sound of her heart beating furiously inside her chest. She was nervous, he realized, and jumpy, a wild thing about to bolt, but Tonic wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet.
The soft denim of her jeans was sculpted to her curves and he was hard pressed not to groan out loud at the chaste contact. He needed her to know, wanted her to understand just how perfect she was.
“Fine,” she said in a husky little voice, “I’m not fat, or plump, or chubby, but I’m a big girl-”
“Compared to me, you’re tiny. A sweet, supple little tidbit,” he said and inched her close until her front was pressed right up against him, “but you fit me, aippak. You fit me perfectly.”
The Inuit word for mate, aippak, slipped from his tongue, but it felt so right. He knew the second he’d said it that she was his aippak. The precious female in his arms was his mate whether she knew it yet or not.
So, no, he did not correct himself. In fact, Tonic pulled her closer, holding her to him one moment longer than was sane. He felt her soft curves against the hard planes of his body and groaned at the pleasure before stepping back and taking the now dry plate from her hands.
Maya turned around to face the sink. She was no longer trembling, but from what he could make out judging by her scent, she seemed confused. His Bear chuffed, as if the animal was in agreement. Tonic understood the feeling all too well.
“I’ll wash the rest of the dishes, you finish getting dressed and I’ll drive you over to Marcus’ when you’re done,” he said and began to pile the dishes in the sink whistling as he worked.
For the first time in several months, the Polar Bear Shifter felt something akin to hope regarding the problem of his reluctant mate. Hope was a fragile thing, but once felt, it was hard to get rid of it.
Maybe there was hope for the two of them after all. Maybe it was like he’d learned in science when he was a kid. Even though he and Maya were very different, sometimes polar compounds came together and stayed that way through their bonds often for the better.
Like hydrogen and oxygen coming together to make water. And what was stronger than water? Not much, he thought idly and grinned at the idea.
“Something wrong?” Maya asked before she left the room.
“Nope. Nothing at all.”
Three
“Hello Maya. Before we get into the case at hand, I understand that you have suffered as a youth from some of our Clan members, and I wondered, Ms. Osborn, if Peter Crawford was one of them?”
“Peter was full of himself in school and after, but he was more upset I wouldn’t make out with him behind the bleachers,” she said and ignored the rumble coming from Tonic.
The stubborn Polar Bear had insisted on accompanying her, much to Maya’s frustration. Things over breakfast had been a little too close for comfort, in her opinion. She still couldn’t believe the things he’d said and the way he held her. Heck, she’d thought he was going to kiss her, but no such luck.
She shook her head and tried to focus on her meeting. This was important for her entire future. She had no call daydreaming about Tonic Nanouk when the fate of Flowers by Jill hung in the balance.
“Has anyone been giving you trouble lately?” Marcus Devlin, Alpha of the Barvale Clan asked her from his perch on one of the chairs surrounding the old, scarred wood table in the kitchen, that was the heart, of the Den.
Wolf Shifters had Pack Houses, Tiger and Lion Shifter’s had Pride Houses, but Bears had what was often referred to as the Den. The Alpha couple lived there permanently with their young, as did most of his brothers until they’d mated and left for homes of their own.
The Den sort of had an open door policy for Clan members but seeing as how Maya was not a full Bear Shifter, she did not exactly qualify. Prejudice was not often tolerated in the Shifter community, but it did rear its ugly head now and then.
Since she was unmated and her father had died before he could officially swear her in under his protection, Maya’s status was pretty much fucked. She was grateful the Devlin’s even agreed to meet with her.