The BEAR Gene: A Gripping Paranormal Romance (WereGenes Book 2) Page 8

  And although I supposed I understood it, it seemed absurd to me.

  After I told Polly that I’d keep our conversation just between the two of us, she abruptly changed subjects, asking me if I thought we should serve the kids chocolate milk or hot chocolate at the story hour.

  We soon got everyone organized into groups with different decorating tasks, and later, after chocolate milk and cookies had been served, Polly and I took turns reading spring-themed books to the kids, who seemed to have an endless appetite for stories about baby lambs and fawns.

  Late in the afternoon, after the kids had played a game that Polly called “musical bunny chairs,” their moms began coming to pick them up, along with a few dads. Most of the parents put wads of cash into a tip jar that Polly had on the coffee counter, and I even saw one mom of twins drop in four twenty-dollar bills, clearly grateful for the break in childcare that Polly had provided.

  Once I'd helped Polly clean up, I did some grocery shopping at Somerset’s small, lone grocery store, then drove home, soon receiving a text from Reed.

  Dinner at eight again? I promise not to laugh inappropriately again, which I now fully realize was very rude and probably confusing.

  Leaning over the island, I just looked at the phone screen for a few seconds, thinking, before hitting reply. Okay. See you at eight.

  I wanted to see Reed in order to confirm my thinking about his thinking in regards to Sean’s death, but more than anything, somewhat to my surprise, I just wanted to see him. I even felt like I missed him in a funny sort of way, funny because he’d made me feel irritated and angry almost from the moment we’d met, and I currently had no idea where we stood with each other, so it seemed funny that I should have any feelings of actually missing him. Up to this point in my life, I’d only missed people I’d felt genuine affection for, which definitely wasn’t Reed.

  Of course, after the night we’d spent together, I knew I had feelings of unabashed lust for him, that was for sure. Images of his face and body had appeared in a few of my dreams the previous night, dreams that had definitely been on the steamy side of things. I’d dreamed of being in his arms, naked, while he kissed me with such passion and intensity that I moaned loudly with pleasure. When I’d awoken from this specific dream around four in the morning, I’d been so aroused that I was vaguely embarrassed, and even more so when I heard sounds of someone stirring in the bedroom next to mine, which was Reed’s. First, heavy footsteps thudded across the floor, and then I heard water running briefly. I then more heavy footsteps, followed by the sound of Reed clearing his throat. It had then sounded like he’d left the house, maybe to go out on an early morning patrol around Somerset with his men.

  Staring up at the ceiling in the dark, I’d wondered if maybe he hadn’t meant to wake up quite so early, but had instead awoken because the moaning I’d done in my dream had actually been out loud. I didn’t think it had been, though; I just didn’t get the sense that I’d moaned out loud, not to mention I’d never been told that I made any kind of noises in my sleep, even while dreaming. But just the thought that I could have possibly moaned out loud, waking Reed up, left me horrified. Although at least this feeling had had the effect of tamping down my desire for him, allowing me to fall back asleep.

  However, back in the present, my desire for him returned while I dressed for our dinner. Just thinking about him while I selected a dress made me develop a frustrating ache low in my stomach, an ache that was near-impossible to ignore. I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to fare at dinner, when he was actually right in front of me, in the flesh. No matter what I felt about him, and no matter that I didn’t really know how he felt about me, I wanted to sleep with him again, of that I was certain.

  Initially, I didn’t fare well at all at dinner, which Marie had made once again. While Reed and I ate quietly, making only periodic polite conversation about the food, like we’d done the evening before, I found it difficult to stop taking covert little peeks at him, peeks at his face and body both. I found it difficult to stop picturing what his long, hard body looked like not covered by clothes, and I almost regretted that I knew.

  Judging by a few looks Reed was giving me as well, I guessed that maybe I wasn’t the only one having a few racy thoughts. He even seemed to be chewing with more force than the main course of incredibly tender herb-seasoned salmon required, as if the action wasn’t so much about breaking down the food as it was a foil for him to be able to grind his teeth, like a person might do if they were trying to resist something, or resist having certain thoughts.

  Maybe Reed was a bit on edge because I had chosen a slightly more revealing dress that I’d worn the night before. This dress, which was a vivid red, was scoop-necked like my green dress had been, but it was maybe a little lower of a scoop. It was low enough of a scoop that my full cleavage was definitely visible. This area seemed to be drawing a majority of Reed’s glances. This almost seemed to satisfy me for some reason, and I recalled how much Reed had seemed to enjoy my breasts when we shared a bed together.

  Once we’d both finished eating, he refilled my wine glass before getting up, going over to a small bar on one side of the dining room, and pouring himself a large glass of whiskey.

  He then sat back down and finally started saying something of substance. “I really am sorry about my laughter the other night, and I won’t do it again. For what it’s worth, I really do think your offer to help with the Bloodborn was a very admirable one. Which doesn’t mean I’m going to let you do it, but… it was admirable that you wanted to help.”

  A grandfather clock in an alcove out in the hallway chimed the quarter-hour, and Reed used the interruption to knock back at least a finger of his whiskey at a gulp.

  Not grimacing in the least, he set the glass back on the table before continuing with his icy blue eyes reflecting golden light from the candles in front of us. “And as far as exactly why I won’t let you help, I know I’ve already said it’s too dangerous for you personally, and that’s true… but it’s also because with any luck, you’ll be pregnant soon, and we can’t take the chance of the baby being hurt.”

  I realized I was disappointed by what he’d just said for two reasons. For one, a tiny part of me had been hoping he was going to say that he didn’t want me putting myself in harm’s way because he cared about me. The second reason I was disappointed was because he hadn’t even referred to our possible future baby as “our baby” but instead just as “the baby.”

  However, now knowing what was making Reed hesitant to get close to me, I simply said that I understood, adding that there was no need to explain himself further. “There is one thing I want you to explain to me, though.”

  Reed asked what it was, and I took a deep breath before speaking again.

  “I want you to explain to me why you’re so terrified to fall in love.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Reed lowered his gaze from my face to his whiskey glass, dark brows furrowing, and seemed hesitant to answer my question, to say the least. And when he didn’t after a long moment or two, I spoke again, being careful not to give Polly up as my source of information.

  “Look, Reed… you told me yourself about how Sean died, and I know he was pretty newly-married to Polly when it happened. I’ve been able to gather that they were very much in love. So, just putting two and two together, I’m guessing that you think maybe that the Bloodborn were able to kill Sean because he was so distracted by being head-over-heels in love. I’m also guessing that maybe this is why you seem so hesitant to even enter into a friendship with someone that you’ve already shared a bed with… because you think that developing any sort of feelings could ultimately lead to you getting killed.”

  Reed didn’t answer me, instead continuing to stare into his whiskey glass. However, that was all the answer I needed. Not expecting anything more, I was almost startled when he spoke.

  “There was a prophecy about Sean’s death, you know.”

  “A… a what?”

&nb
sp; Swirling the remaining whiskey in his glass, Reed sat back in his chair with a deep sigh. “One of the great-grandmothers of one of the Bloodborn bears… she was supposedly a witch of some sort, and her name was Raven. A few years ago, just as the Bloodborn were trying to invade us here in Somerset, she told them that she’d cursed us Somerset bears. She’d cast a spell on us that would lead to us losing one of our own before the year was up, she said. The Bloodborn sent a message to me, telling me about this prophecy, and saying that it could all be avoided if I’d just cede my land to them. Obviously, I didn’t. And a few months later, Sean was killed.”

  I thought for a few moments before responding. “Well… that might have happened anyway. Just because Sean died, it doesn’t mean that there was any kind of an actual prophecy or a curse involved.”

  Surprising me, Reed looked up and actually gave me a little smile. “I know that… and really, I don’t even believe in curses and prophecies. It just makes me feel better to think about sometimes… just to think that maybe it was some curse that took Sean’s life… and not a leader who didn’t make him sit out of combat situations, knowing that Sean had become so distracted that he’d become a liability.”

  “So, you blame yourself for Sean’s death, then?”

  Not looking at me, Reed took a deep breath through his nose, jaw clenched. “In a way, yes. But more than anything, I blame love itself. It made him absentminded. Less sharp. Sometimes I even think it sapped his strength in a way, and actually made him physically weaker. And that’s why I don’t want it for myself. I don’t want to let myself be killed, and I don’t want any more of my fighters to be killed under my watch. So, love is not for me.”

  “And you plan to spend the rest of your entire life without love?”

  A faint wince flickered across Reed’s face.

  “Yes. As long as I’m chief of Somerset, entrusted with keeping everyone safe, I can’t risk taking any chances. I can’t allow myself to become as distracted as Sean was.”

  “And you think that refusing to allow yourself to become ‘distracted’ won’t cause you to become distracted in and of itself?”

  Reed suddenly cleared his throat, seeming as if he was suddenly having difficulty maintaining eye contact with me. “I’m not going to lie and say that you haven’t already begun to distract me a bit, Samantha. I think you're...” He paused for another throat clear. "I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, and I don’t think it would be a very hard task to become closer to you. That being said... I can’t let this happen. Not now, and probably not ever. Not unless…”

  “Not unless what?”

  “Well, not unless all the Bloodborn are wiped out at some point. If they didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have to worry about remaining sharp for battle so much.”

  I took a quick sip of my wine with my mental wheels turning a mile a minute. “Well... how long to you expect it'll take to kill all the Bloodborn?”

  Reed sighed. “I’m afraid I can't even give you a rough estimate. I wish I could. We’ve picked dozens of them off here and there over the years, in the course of defending Somerset and other nearby villages from their murderous attacks. But despite all the battles we’ve fought against them, the majority of them always seem to escape us, including their leader, who’s a Bloodborn named Gerard Blackthorn. He and a few of his men even made an attempt to kidnap some women here in Somerset a few years back, and although they failed, it took every single one of my men to make it so, because we were so incredibly outnumbered. Gerard is well aware of that fact. He’s also well aware of the fact that I'll never attack him and his men in their little village, Blackbrook, because they have women and children there who could be injured. So, like I said, I can't even give you a rough estimate of when I and my men might be able to do away with them all for good. I can see it being months... years, even. So, I’m living my life accordingly.”

  “Your life completely devoid of love?”

  With a little sigh, Reed picked up his whiskey glass and began drinking, seeming like he had no intention of answering me.

  With a little sigh myself, I picked up my wineglass and took a good long drink, one probably far longer than was ladylike, before setting my glass back on the table. "So, to boil it all down, you have no intention of ever opening your heart, indefinitely, until Gerard Blackthorn and all his men are killed, which will be at some indefinite point in time, months or even years away. Do I have all this correct?"

  Wincing slightly, Reed drained the rest of his whiskey in a gulp and set the glass back on the table. "Please believe that I...” He paused, swallowing. “I do want to open my heart, Samantha. I really do.” He sighed once again, pulling his gaze from mine and raking a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I hope you can believe me when I say that. But I know I have to resist opening my heart. I just have to.” He abruptly stood, raking a hand through his hair yet again. “I think I'll probably say goodnight now, hoping that you know that despite all I’ve said, I’m still committed to having a business relationship with you for our mutual gain. To that end, maybe you’ll have dinner with me again tomorrow night.”

  With that, he began striding from the room, leaving me all alone at the long, polished dining table. All alone and entirely frustrated and disappointed. The sight of his tight rear as he walked away was almost more than I could take. Once he’d disappeared from view, I turned back to the table and drained the rest of my wine, thinking that another dinner with him while not knowing if we were even going to sleep together again would be similar to torture.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A whole week went by, and then two. Reed and I didn’t sleep together again, and in fact, he was gone on patrol so much that aside from sharing a few awkward dinners, we barely even saw each other or spoke. I helped Polly in the coffee shop a lot, and I babysat some kids several times, and I had a few nice visits with Marie. I also took many long hikes through the forestland around Somerset, always being mindful to listen for the alarm sirens that indicated Bloodborn in the area. Sometimes, I hiked by myself, and sometimes with Polly or other new friends I’d made. I never went with Reed, although I would have liked to. I would have liked to spend any time at all with him. I’d come to realize that he was a man I could certainly fall in love with, and maybe even very easily.

  I’d also come to realize that I wanted love just as much as Reed had said that he didn’t want it. I also wanted to sleep with him again, to the point that I was having nightly dreams about him, dreams so erotic that I frequently woke up drenched in sweat, and drenched with wetness in places other than my skin, too. Every single time, I'd fight an urge to punch my pillow, knowing that Reed was just next door to my room.

  Every now and again, Marie seemingly tried to encourage me about Reed, saying to just give things time.

  “He’ll come around. And I know this because I know him like a son.”

  I wasn’t at all sure.

  “He’s barely even spoken to me the past couple of weeks.”

  Rolling out some dough for biscuits, Marie glanced over at me with a little smile. “Just keep giving him time. There’s no way to tell when he might come around, but I have no doubt that he will. I think that deep down, he wants love in his life just as badly as you do. And he won’t be able to fight that forever… although I’m sure he might try. So, just sit back. Just sit back and let the biscuits rise in the oven. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

  I wasn’t entirely sure, although I nodded anyway. I was sure about one thing, however, which was that Reed and I needed to start sleeping together again soon in order for me to get pregnant. I highly doubted that I’d happened to become pregnant the first and only time we’d shared a bed, and I was afraid that if we waited much longer to do so again, I may be too late to save my mom’s life. The funny thing was that I knew that Reed was just as eager as I was for me to become pregnant so that the baby we produced could possibly strengthen his shifters. But even with that being the case, I had the feeling that he was
avoiding sex with me because he was afraid that just the act alone would cause him to start feeling closer to me than he wanted.

  Like Marie, Polly also thought that Reed would come around in time. I wasn't exactly sure what I thought. On one hand, I was inclined to agree with Marie and Polly. But on the other, with each day that went by without any physical contact between me and Reed, things started to seem more and more like a lost cause. In the end, though, it really didn’t matter what I thought, because he seemed completely committed to not sleeping with me or spending much time with me at all. Our few-and-far-between dinners, which we’d begun eating in the casual kitchen instead of the formal dining room, had become more awkward and strained than I’d even thought was possible. With our gazes on our food, we barely even spoke, which was maybe because we both seemed intent on not looking at each other for longer than a split second. We’d even mostly stopped making polite comments about the food, except for one of us saying something maybe every third night that we shared dinner together.

  I’d been the one to suggest that we start eating at the small, circular table in the casual kitchen instead of the formal dining room, and I’d made this suggestion because seeing Reed in dress pants and collared shirt every night had begun to almost physically hurt me. The way his tailored shirts highlighted the breadth of his strong shoulders, and the way he always left a collar button or two undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his muscular chest, made me have to exert every ounce of my will not to stare. I thought seeing him in the jeans, t-shirt, and boots he wore when heading out to lead his men on patrol in bear form everyday might be easier for me to take, and I also thought that he might appreciate not having to see me in a form-fitting, cleavage-showing dress every night. However, I was wrong, about it being easier for me to see him in jeans and a t-shirt, anyway. With him looking rugged and sexy as all hell in battered jeans that hung low on his slim hips, and t-shirts that gently hugged the contours of his hard chest and chiseled abs, I quickly realized that I’d made a grave mistake in judgment. The truth was that seeing him in any form of clothing was torture for me, so we may as well have stuck to the dining room and formal dress clothes.