Tracking the Bear (Blue Ridge Bears Book 1)(26)

“You’ll know it when you see it. Good luck, Lucy Elmsong.”

***

Nearly two weeks out and I still had no clue what Freyr had been talking about. I whacked another low hanging branch out of my way in frustration. Behind me, I heard the branch hit, and then Chance swore loudly. He’d been doing that a lot in the mornings. I couldn’t get consistent sleep and it made me cranky.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Another bad one?” he guessed, coming level with me on the hiking trail.

“Yeah.”

“What’s keeping you up at night?”

What wasn’t keeping me up at night? The strange, impossible mission from Freyr was top priority in my worries, but there were other things I dwelled on, as the trail wound further into the mountains. Chance always knew where we were going next, and wasn’t sharing exactly how he knew that information. He still wouldn’t explain to me what had happened in the forty minutes he’d gone berserk on the freeway, though my conversation with Freyr had conjured up some nasty images to fuel my nightmares.

Add to all of that, the fact that we’d scaled a few of the smaller mountains in an effort to get closer to the goal. My leg had gotten so bad that we were forced to make camp and stay put for a whole day and a half after each jaunt. I was sure my gimpy pace was slowing him down considerably. And on top of it all, I was stealing his clothes.

It had become clear after one night on the mountaintop that I’d packed for the wrong type of weather. Spring was turning slowly to summer in Tennessee, and it was perfectly acceptable to go out in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt on nice days. I’d packed some long sleeves in preparation for slightly colder weather in Ohio, but I hadn’t packed anything close to sufficient for camping on top of a mountain.

So after listening to my teeth chatter for two hours as I clutched the light jacket I’d packed to me desperately, he’d given me one of his thermal shirts, a pair of thick socks and had beckoned me to sleep beside him in his sleeping bag. I hadn’t complained. He was warm, and temptingly close.

Strangely enough, he hadn’t made another move on me. I was beginning to dread that the night in the hotel had been a fluke. He’d said he loved me. He hadn’t even kissed me since we’d arrived.

He reached over and gently smoothed the crease between by brows with his finger. “You’re worrying. Why?”

I decided to give him the simplest and least pressing answer. “If I’m your mate like you say, why aren’t we having sex?”

His head tilted to one side and an easy smile curved his full lips. “That’s what you’ve stayed up worrying about? That I don’t want you?”

I nodded mutely.

“You’re silly,” he said, shaking his head. He offered me a hand as a particularly gnarled root jutted from the ground ahead of us. I was prone to tripping over them if he didn’t assist me, and I knew he couldn’t afford the delay of a broken leg.

“It’s not silly. We’ve been sharing the same sleeping bag for two weeks and you haven’t even tried to kiss me.”

He pecked me quickly on the cheek. The contact sent a shock of sensation through me. It felt like being exposed to a livewire after weeks of no contact. I turned my face eagerly for a proper kiss. He didn’t oblige me though, backing away from me with a laugh when we’d climbed over the root.

“If I kiss you know, we’ll have to make camp, and we can put a few more miles behind us before sundown. Soon, I promise.”

“You’d better,” I grumbled, trudging after him. “So, what was the last topic of conversation we left off with? And was it my turn or yours?”

“Well, I found out you’re a blasphemer. I can’t in good conscience kiss someone who hates Star Wars.”

“I don’t hate Star Wars. I just like Star Trek better.”

“Bah. The pain meds are making you delirious. You’re not talking sense.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure it’s my turn to ask the questions. You said you had sisters. What do they do?”

“Rita and Amber. Rita is a nurse, and Amber is a UFC fighter in their paranormal division.”

“Really? She does mixed-martial arts?”

“She’s the only person I’ve met in the last ten years who can kick my ass,” he confirmed.

I laughed. “I’ll have to get her to give me pointers sometime.”

We settled down to make camp when the sun sank beneath the horizon and we couldn’t move safely forward. It amused me to no end that he hung our food every night to keep it away from bears.

“Afraid you’ll be tempted to grab a midnight snack?” I teased.

“Don’t you ever get tired of all the bear jokes?”

“Never,” I replied solemnly. “Bear puns will follow you for the rest of your days.”

“Ugh. That will be unbearable,” he said, and crawled into the tent, joining me in the sleeping bag.

I beamed. “See, you like it!”

“Barely.”

“Oh, come on. Quit that. You’re going to ace me in the pun department, and I can’t have that.”

“You can’t bear it?” he said, leaning in to kiss me on the lips. I raised a hand to cup the back of his neck. He pressed me down onto the hard packed earth at the mouth of the tent and I giggled despite myself.