“Probably dead by now. It was in bad shape. You saw it.” He tossed the towel onto the small patch of counter near the sink and held his hand out to Cameo.
When she didn’t pass her coat to him, just hugged it tighter, he crossed the short span of wooden floorboards between them and took it from her. He clutched it in his left hand and lifted his right one, couldn’t stop himself from brushing his fingers across her pale cheek and into the spun silk of her hair. The tips of it were gold, but it faded to honey and then brown at the roots.
“What?” She raised her hand and it brushed his as she reached for her hair, sending a thousand volts shooting up his arm.
“Just… not seen hair like yours before.” He felt like a bit of a dolt having to confess that, and for staring at it so intently.
“Oh.” She fidgeted with a thick strand of it. “I… I don’t normally… It’s usually just brown. I was in Vancouver a few months ago and did it on a whim.”
He smiled at the way she said that, as if doing something on a whim was a terrible thing, but then it was probably very unlike her. He had the feeling that normally a decision like getting her hair done would have involved numerous days of debating styles and colours and doing research.
Lowe hung her coat on a peg and helped her to the navy couch that stood at an angle in the middle of the living space, facing the log burner in the corner of the room. She sank onto it, her breath leaving her on a weary sigh, and leaned forwards, reaching for her boots. He eased to his knees before her and unlaced them, gently slipped them off her feet and stood.
“Better?” He carried the boots to the door and placed them on the mat to the right of it, near the log burner, and removed his own boots and set them next to hers.
Tried not to think about how good they looked together.
Or the fact he had never had female company in his cabin before.
“Much.” That single word held a lot of pain.
Lowe looked over his shoulder at her, turned and frowned when he caught her trying to unzip the leg of her black salopettes. He strode back to her and sank to his knees on the fur rug again.
“Here, let me.” Because just the sound of her in pain was enough to drive him wild with a need to take care of her, to ease her and stop her from hurting.
Something about this female had bewitched him. Maybe she wasn’t human. Witches smelled human. Although, he doubted a witch would be a park ranger. Not glamourous enough for them. Light witches loved nature, but probably not enough to work in the parks, taking care of the land. All the witches he had met had preferred living on their own patch of land and making money off spells and elixirs made from the flowers, herbs and plants they grew.
There was a witch near Golden who had been slowly expanding her property with the income she made from selling love potions and other tonics and now owned acres in the valley, including a large area of forest.
Going to see her hadn’t been Lowe’s finest hour but he had managed to stop himself from buying a potion that would make the object of his affection at the time love him back.
He focused back on the female who was with him now, bringing himself back to the present as he unzipped the leg of Cameo’s pants and eased the material up. He grimaced as he saw her ankle was swollen now.
“That’s not a good look.” She peered at her leg. “Oh my God. It’s twice the size of my other leg!”
“It’ll be fine. Just needs to be elevated.” He gripped her shoulders and eased her onto her back, froze as he found himself leaning over her and her eyes locked with his. The urge to kiss her hit him again, and this time it was harder to deny it.
Because she looked as if she wanted to kiss him too.
He sucked down a breath and forced his eyes away from her, did his best to be a gentleman and not the sort of wild, uncivilised man she probably thought he was because he lived in the middle of nowhere in a basic cabin, with only other men like him in the vicinity. He grabbed the cushions from the worn grey armchair that stood at a ninety-degree angle to the couch near the wall and placed them under her left leg, elevating it until it was above her head. He was probably being harsh on himself, and on her. Maybe it was fear talking—fear that she would take one look at his home, with no running water and only solar power, and think he was a male who wasn’t worth anything.
He wasn’t sure when he had started wanting her to think he was worth something. He amended that thought. It wasn’t being worth something that mattered to him. It was being worthy of something, and he was treading a dangerous path, heading for heartbreak again if he thought she was going to view him as worthy of her heart.
She was human. Nothing could happen between them. Relationships with humans never worked out. Humans were fragile, their lifespan a mere blip compared with his, and they aged fast because of it. He didn’t age quickly at all. He was going to look this way, or close to it, for another few hundred years at least. In a matter of years, she would know something was different about him and then what?
He knew the answer to that question.
She would leave. She would realise he was different to her and she would leave, and she would probably take his heart with her and he would spend the next few hundred years feeling like a hollow shell of a male.
Even if he somehow kept his true nature hidden from her, he would have to leave Black Ridge. He would have to leave his brother behind. He would have to leave his pride. He would be a bear alone in a human world.
Just the thought of that made him restless, agitated the more animal part of him, and had him wanting to see his brother, needing to see him and know that they wouldn’t be parted.
“Lowe?” Cameo whispered, her soft voice black magic, trying to tempt him to her side. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head and swallowed hard, avoided her gaze as he checked her ankle. “Nothing. Just tired.”
He stood, a little too sharply judging by how Cameo tensed. He issued her an apologetic look and then went to the dresser at the far end of the room, below the window. He opened the cupboard, grabbed the med kit he kept there, and pulled himself together as he checked it had everything he needed. He was being foolish. Hoping for something impossible. As soon as Cameo was able to move, he needed to get her out of his life.
His bear side suddenly growled and snarled, clawed at the cage of his human form. He braced himself against the dresser, gripping the wooden top so hard he feared he would snap it in two as he fought with his other side. That part of him was often grouchy, but he couldn’t remember the last time it had been this mad. Fur rippled over his hands and he glared at them, breathed deep and fought the change, unsure why it was coming over him.
It hit him like a thunderbolt.
Both sides of him didn’t want Cameo to leave.
Just the thought of never seeing her again was enough to rouse a feral need to roar and lash out at anything that stood between them, filled him with an urge to stake a claim on her, to keep her here in his cabin forever and never let her go.
Lowe stared at the top of the dresser as he let that sink in, as a strange feeling swept through him, one that had him secretly scenting the air, savouring the soft fragrance of Cameo that laced it.
He needed to talk to Knox.
He turned to storm out the door and find his brother, but his gaze caught on Cameo and the need to stay with her easily overpowered the need to speak with Knox. She stared at him, her blue eyes soft and laced with concern, worry not for herself but for him.