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“Oh, probably half an hour.” I lifted my hand from the water and looked at my pruned skin. “Maybe forty minutes.”
“Good.” He gathered me in his arms and suddenly stood.
“What are you doing?” I gasped.
He reached for the towel that was folded on the toilet and draped it over my shoulders. “We’re continuing this in your bed. You and I in the tub worked out a lot better when it was in my head. I forget how big I am sometimes.”
He lifted me out of the tub and set me on the floor. “Dry off and meet me in the bedroom.”
He reached for another towel and bent over to dry his legs. He stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell to my stomach.
“Fucking hell, mama,” he whispered. He dropped to his knees in front of me and gently pressed a hand to my bruised skin.
“It looks worse than it actually is.” It really did. It still hurt, but it was better than it had been yesterday.
“I don’t even know how you are walking around.” His fingers trailed over my skin, and he tipped his head back. “Mama,” he whispered.
“I’m really okay, Bear. I promise I am.”
His hands spanned my waist and gently tugged me toward him. I shuffled forward ‘til his face was front and center to my stomach, and his lips were a breath away from my skin. “He’s going to pay for this,” he whispered.
“Bear,” I called.
He shook his head and pressed a kiss to my stomach. “He deserves to die for everything he’s done, mama. His days are numbered,” he vowed.
I delved my fingers into his hair and sighed. “I need you to stop being so sweet. Your lumberjack exterior does not really match this sweet man in front of me.”
“I’m not being sweet, mama. I’m telling you I’m going to kill this fucker for ever laying his hands on you.”
“Sweet,” I whispered. “I grew up in an MC. A man vowing to avenge is the ultimate sweet thing.”
He sat back on his heels and chuckled. “I would suppose so.” He looked at the platter by his knees. “You hungry?”
I shrugged. “I ate a hunk of cheese and drank seven wine coolers while you were out hunting for Dr. Douche.” Dinner of crazy women.
“Did you take your pain pills?” he asked.
I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “The wine coolers helped to numb the pain.” And the warm water helped to loosen and relax me.
“Good answer.” He grabbed the shark-coochie and stood. I towel-dried my hair, rubbed the towel over my body, wound it around me, and tucked it under my arms.
I turned to grab my brush and watched Bear in the mirror.
God damn, that man was just perfect. He set the platter on the edge of the vanity and bent over to dry off. The muscles in his back twisted and rippled as he moved. “I like your tattoo,” I blurted.
He lifted his head and smiled at me in the mirror. “Thanks, mama. I’m a fan of the paw print on your hip.”
“Thank you. It’s for Meg’s dog, Red. He was the best dog.” It was crazy how dogs reached in and claimed your heart without warning. Red was that dog for me.
“Is he the reason why you became a vet?” Bear finished drying off and reached for his boxers.
“Yeah, he was.”
Bear pulled on his underwear and grabbed the platter. He reached for my hand, and I dropped my brush. He led me into the bedroom. “Underwear?” he asked.
I nodded to the dresser. “Uh, I can get it. Why don’t you set that on the bed?” I pulled open the top drawer and slipped on a pair of pink underwear.
Bear pulled back the covers of the bed and set the platter down. I dropped the towel and pulled a white long-sleeve shirt on.
“You need me to put more clothes on?” he asked. He stood on the side of the bed with his arms at his sides, wearing only a pair of underwear.
“Uh, no?” I mean, I didn’t mind the view at all. Now that I had at least a shirt and underwear on, I was a little bit more confident. I guess the more clothes I had on connected to how secure I was with myself. It was easy to hide what I didn’t like behind a layer of fabric. I motioned to my legs. “I haven’t shaved in four days. You want me to put some pants on?”
“I haven’t shaved mine in thirty-one years. Get your ass in the bed.”
“You have me beat there,” I giggled. I closed the drawer and climbed on the bed. Bear laid on his side and propped his head up with his hand.
Bear grabbed a grape and popped it into his mouth. “This shit is pretty fancy, mama. How long did it take Meg to make this?”
He took a slice of cheese and laid it on top of a piece of summer sausage.
“She did most of the chopping and I rearranged everything.” I snagged a chocolate-covered peanut. “Though, I’m pretty sure when I was done, she rearranged everything while I was in the bathroom.” That was Meg. Food was her thing, and she kicked ass at it. “So, what were you up to today?”
Bear held up his finger. “Hold on. I need to get some food inside me.” He grabbed three crackers and put three layers of cheese and sausage on them. He shoved it in his mouth and rolled out of bed.
“Where are you going?” I laughed.
“I saw you bought some beer. I need one.” He disappeared out the door and was back in a minute with an open beer.
“How do you move without me hearing you?” I laughed.
He got back into bed and grabbed one of the crackers he assembled. “Years of practice, mama. I can’t exactly be stomping around when I’m trying to sneak up on the bad guys.”
“Well, I have to say that is a talent. I can’t even walk down the hallway without either tripping or stomping my feet.”
“I’ve noticed,” Bear laughed. “If you’re ever on the run, Greta, just try not to move. You’ll give yourself away in an instant if you do.”
I rolled my eyes and lifted my middle finger. “I’ll take your advice, but I have no plans to be on the wrong side of the law or a bounty hunter.”
“Good idea, mama. You’d be caught in one minute.”
“Your lack of faith in me is surprising. I may not be quiet, but I bet I could outsmart you.” I popped the peanut into my mouth. “If anything, I could flash you and take off while you’re too stunned by my bosom to move.”
“Bosom?” Bear chuckled. “I will say you have a very impressive bosom, mama, but I think I can rein in my hormones and handcuff your ass before you could even drop your shirt.”
“I guess we’ll never know because I’m an angel who you’ll never have to hunt for, right?”
“Right.” He shoved one of the crackers he built into his mouth and grabbed a handful of grapes. “Though for the record, don’t flash a cop.”
I ducked my head and stared at my comforter.
“Greta,” Bear moaned. “Do not tell me you have flashed a cop before.”
“No,” I winced. I put my hand over my mouth. “There were four of them,” I whispered.
“You are a handful, mama. I’m surprised you don’t have a rap sheet as long as my arm.”
I waved my hand at him and leaned back on my pillow. “I haven’t done anything that bad. The worst thing I ever did was throw some poop at a guy’s house.”
“You sure about that?” he laughed.
“I mean, there might have been some other things, but I could have blocked them from my memory.” There were, but I wasn’t about to tell Bear. “I’m not like Frost who drove a Jeep Barbie Powerwheel to the gas station to get beer.” I glanced at Bear. “While he was drunk.”
“Not surprised,” he laughed.
