She didn’t understand. “So that’s why you live way up here in the mountains alone?”
Aux gestured in the direction of the barn. “I’m not alone.”
“Pigs and chickens can’t be your only friends.”
“You’re friends with a blow dryer. You can’t say anything.”
She belted out a laugh and took a bite of beef jerky. “Billie is an amazing listener.”
A deep, reverberating chuckle sounded from him and it warmed her from the inside out.
The fire was mesmerizing. “I don’t know if I want to have kids. I’m supposed to want them, but I’m thirty-three and that urge just never hit me. I’ve been on birth control since I was sixteen,” she admitted. “My friend Tabby says it’s because I just haven’t met the right man yet, but I don’t know.” She let her thoughts on that trail off. “I guess what I’m saying is, whatever reasons you have for not wanting kids, it’s okay. You aren’t alone. People have lots of reasons for those decisions.”
When she looked over at him, Aux was staring at her intently. “You really don’t want cubs?”
Cubs. Sometimes he spoke so strangely. “So far, no. I keep waiting for some huge maternal instinct to consume me, but I’ve held lots of babies and mostly the whole time I’m holding them I think I’m glad I get to do the fun stuff with them and hand them off to the parents to change their diapers and do the sleepless nights. I made straight Cs in school. What am I going to teach a baby?”
A chuckle escaped him. Just a little one as he frowned at her with an unfathomable expression.
“Okay, make fun of me for knowing I will make a bad parent.”
“You make a great mom to the damn baby pig you’ve devoted yourself to bottle feeding. You’re fine.”
“Well Samson just needs food and water and love, not to learn his fuckin’ ABCs.”
Aux belted out another laugh, louder this time.
Ever the smooth conversationalist, she blurted out, “I have a box of letters my ex wrote to me.”
His laugh died off. “You have them here?”
She looked down at the little box she’d brought out and set between their chairs. Currently it was serving as the table for the meat snacks. “They’re mostly from the first couple years I was with him. Before he discovered he got off on sneaking around and making a fool of me. I had this dumb plan to have a few good days at the dude ranch and build my self-esteem back up, and then burn the links to my past.”
She turned to him. He was staring back at her with intensity sparking in his eyes. “You like letters?”
“I like them from people who mean well in my life.”
His attention ghosted to the box, and then back to her. “Burn it.”
“Now?” she asked.
Aux nodded. “Burn the links to your past, Gwen. You aren’t that girl anymore, and you’ll never let a man make a fool out of you again. Swear it.”
And in this moment, she felt strong enough to make that promise. She never wanted to feel less-than again. Aux made her feel like she could do anything. Already she’d learned how to work a chainsaw, drive a side-by-side through the snowy woods, and work with animals…this was her moment. Her life was back on track right now, in this cold snowy evening by a bonfire. Her face was destroyed but she was still kicking because she was a motherfucking rubber band. Pull her back and she was going to snap right into place as soon as the pressure released.
“I swear.”
“Good girl.”
She was practically glowing from those two words he uttered. Aux was a man who liked tough people because he was very tough. She liked when he seemed proud of her. It drove her forward. How long had it been since a man had pushed her ahead instead of pulling her backward?
She grabbed the box, opened the lid, and flung the folded letters onto the pile. She threw the shoe box too, then watched them all catch fire and fade to ashes. With every breath she took there by the fire, a weight on her shoulders she hadn’t realized she carried lifted off of her.
Aux came to stand right beside her, and she slipped her hand into his. He tensed, gripping her hand too tight, but didn’t release her. She was almost too chicken to look up into his face, but she forced herself to because he liked tough. And it turned out she liked tough, too.
His chest rose and fell with his fast breathing, and his eyes were roiling with that strange color as he held her trapped in his gaze. Little by little, his grip on her hand loosened until she thought he would let her go.
Sparks of heat were snapping where their skin touched. Right as she thought he would let go, he did something that shocked her. He rubbed his thumb gently across her hand, drawing little circles.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
She shook her head because she didn’t understand.
He swallowed hard. “Does it hurt when I touch you?”
Gwen whispered, “No. It makes me feel safe.”
His nostrils flared and he brushed her cheek with the tip of his finger. “What about now?”
She shook her head just slightly, so he could still touch her. “It feels good.”
His gaze dipped to her lips. Aux leaned down and just before his lips touched hers, Gwen closed her eyes. His mouth was gentle against hers. He only gave her a peck and held for three seconds before he eased away with a shuddering sigh. “What about now?” he asked, his forehead resting against hers.
“I want more.”
“Shhhhit,” he murmured.
Eyes still closed, reveling in the heat that wafted from him and enveloped her, she asked, “Is that bad?”
“Yes,” he said. The growl was back in his words.
“Why?” She opened her eyes so she could see his face when he answered.
Aux straightened to his full height and pulled her tight against his chest. He swayed her slightly for a few seconds before he said, “Because I wasn’t supposed to find you.”
Chapter Six
The bear wouldn’t leave her.
Not when he knew what was coming.
Aux paced the woods near her window, his huge paws sinking deep into the snow with every step. He growled on every frozen breath, his gaze reaching for her dark window over and over again.
Gwen was his.
Fate had to be so smug right now. Sitting there in front of her crystal ball, laughing that she’d somehow put his mate right into his path.
His touch didn’t hurt her. He didn’t hurt her.
The bear spun and walked the other way, eyes on her window, eyes always on her window.
She was asleep inside. He could hear her steady, deep breathing. Could hear how slow her heart-rate was. She’d been happy tonight. He’d made her happy. She’d let him hug her for so long. Would she ever realize how good it had felt for him to touch another person and not have them flinch away in pain or disgust?
She was bright and light, and happy, and healing, and he was…he was…
The bear let off a growl.
He was a destroyer.
Aux forced himself to turn away from the window and rove deeper into the woods. He needed to hunt. He needed to kill because blood was the only thing that made him feel steady. A good snow hunt would take his mind off the warm, fragile woman who owned him but didn’t know it yet.