Husband Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire #1)(19)

Ian washed their dishes and turned off the lanterns, and with one final troubled glance at her closed bedroom door, he made his way across the living room to his own bedroom.

The bed was lumpy and the pillows flat, but that wasn’t what kept him awake tonight. It was a small sniffle, just like the one Elyse had given off when he’d talked to her on the phone all those months ago. It gutted him.

Had he caused her tears? Had memories of Cole made her cry like this? The quiet kind where she was trying to hide her heartbreak. Ian made his way silently through the living room and pushed open her door. Illuminated by blue streaks of moonlight that filtered through the window, she lay with her back to him, knees curled up to her chest, her shoulders shaking. He couldn’t stay, but he couldn’t go any farther. Elyse hadn’t asked for his comfort, and he was an intruder on her private moment, but still, he couldn’t force his feet back to his own bedroom.

Trapped, Ian rested his back on the door frame and slid quietly down the wood.

And long after Elyse’s shoulders stopped shaking, he finally, finally fell asleep.





Chapter Eight


Elyse stretched and squinted at the early morning sunlight that was assaulting the room. She rolled over with the intention of snuggling her pillow for a few more minutes before she forced herself up to start the day, but a giant figure on the floor near her open doorway had a screech clawing its way up her throat. Swallowing it back down, she remembered all the events from yesterday and fidgeted with the gold ring around her finger.

Why on earth was Ian curled up in a giant ball sleeping on the floor?

As quietly as she could manage, she slipped out of bed and made her way into the bathroom, careful not to disturb him. Her reflection in the mirror was atrocious, but after she put her hair in a messy bun, brushed her teeth, and washed her face, she didn’t look as rough. That enormous bowl and a half of stew she’d eaten last night had done her some good, even if her eyes were a little puffy from…crying. Crap. Maybe that’s why Ian was on the floor. Maybe she’d been too loud.

Tugging the hem of her sleep shirt lower, she padded across the cold wooden floorboards and shook his waist gently. “Ian,” she whispered. “Ian.”

“Hmm?” he asked sharply, sitting up so fast he nearly bowled her over. “Shit,” he rasped, catching her arms before she put her tailbone through her throat on the floor. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Elyse lowered down to sit by him and pulled her arms gently from his strong grasp. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”

Ian blinked hard at her lap, then ran his hand through his hair as he looked blearily around her bedroom. “You were crying.”

Scrunching up her nose, she said, “I was trying to be quiet about it.”

“I have good hearing. Why?”

“Why was I crying?”

“Yeah, why?”

Elyse shook her head, not ready to admit all her demons. He already thought she was pathetic. Best not go proving he was right.

Ian rolled up much more gracefully than she’d expected and offered her his palm, upturned. “Purple panties,” he rumbled low.

Sliding her hand against his, she allowed him to pull her up. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re wearing purple panties.” His gaze dropped to her hips, then back to her face. “When you sat down, I saw them. Just thought we should get that out in the air.”

“Great, anything else?” she asked, mortified.

Ian cleared his throat and nodded once. “I like them. They’re a good color on your skin. And I like the cut. And you smell good. And your hair…it’s…nice. And your eyes.”

“What about them?” She swayed slightly, feeling yet again that she was unbalanced around Ian.

“I like those, too.”

She was fighting a smile now. Damn, sleepy Ian was a flattering little flatterer. “Anything else?”

“Yes.”

“You want to tell me what it is?”

Ian shook his head and stepped around her and into the bathroom. “Your turn,” he said in a sleepy, rumbling voice as he squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

“Okay. You’re tall and strong, and I like watching your pec muscles move under that undone button of the sweater you wore yesterday, and your eyes are also very nice, and twice I noticed you had a boner, and I was intimidated because it looks huge all pressed up against your jeans, but I like it.” There. Honesty for honesty, but now Ian was staring at her in the mirror as if she’d lost her mind. “What?” she asked with a frown.

“I wasn’t asking you to compliment me, woman. I meant why were you crying?”

“Oh.” God, this was embarrassing. “If you could just wipe that boner comment out of your mind, that would be great.”

“Hell no. That was my favorite part.” Now Ian was smiling behind his toothbrush as he scrubbed, and her cheeks were so hot that she pressed her palms against her face just to cool them down.

“I was crying over Cole,” she blurted out, then slapped her hands over her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not right to you.”

Ian’s smile slipped away, and he dragged his bright blue gaze away from hers in the mirror. “You miss him?”