Page 4 of Bear’s True Mate

My jaw tightened.

That son of a bitch.

“Give me a second,” I grumbled.

I turned the music down and grabbed my phone from the kitchen counter. My thumbs flew across the screen as I shot off a text to Alister.

What the fuck? You rented your place out? Without telling me?

The three dots appeared almost immediately, which meant wherever Alister was, he had his phone in hand and had probably been expecting this.

Yeah. Just while I’m gone. Figured you wouldn’t mind.

I do mind. A stranger just showed up on my steps.

She seemed nice in her emails.

That’s not the point.

Relax. It’s four weeks. You won’t even notice she’s there.

What part of “she just showed up on my steps” did you not understand?

The urge to throw my phone into the ocean was real. Alister had a habit of making decisions that affected other people and then acting confused when those people had opinions about it. It was one of his more annoying qualities, and for a guy who never thought the rules applied to him, that was saying something.

I shoved my phone into my pocket, and I looked at the woman who was still standing at my front door. She looked like she hadn’t slept well. There were shadows under her eyes, and the way she held herself was full of tension, almost like she was bracing for something. It was clear that confrontation wasn’t something she generally did.

“So, Alister rented his side out,” I said. “He didn’t tell me.”

“That’s not really my problem.”

My brows furrowed as I held her stare. “Didn’t say it was.”

“Good.”

We stood there for a beat, sizing each other up. My bear shifted inside me, feeling sharp and aware. His attention locked on her in a way that made me uneasy.

Why was he suddenly so focused on her?

I shoved him aside.

“Okay, well. Is there something you needed?” I asked. “Or did you just come over to introduce yourself?”

“What?” Her eyes narrowed. “No. Your music.”

“What about it?”

“It’s too loud.”

“It’s the weekend, and also my day off.”

“I understand that, but I’m trying to work over there on the book I’m on a tight deadline for, and I can hear every word of every song through the wall. Could you maybe turn it down? Even a little?”

She said it like she was trying to be reasonable, but the edge in her voice told me this wasn’t a request. It was a demand wrapped in polite words.

That rubbed me the wrong way.

“This isn’t a library, lady,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “Go be the quiet police librarian somewhere else.”