Steal Her Heart (Kaid Ranch Shifters #1)(25)

Deflating, she sighed and shrugged. “It felt like a punishment.”

Bryson ran his hand down his dark beard and kicked at a clump of weeds with the toe of his boot. “It’s protection, not punishment.”

“Protection for me or for you.”

A soft growl rattled his throat. “You’re too direct. You ask too many questions. You see too much. I’m not good under a microscope.”

“Boy, you’re two hundred seventy pounds of Grade-A beefcake. You wouldn’t fit under a microscope.”

The lip-twitch-tiny-smile appeared and disappeared again.

“I’ve read two werebear books now. On my kindle. I’m studying you.”

Now his hidden smile reached his eyes as he stared out at the cows and shook his head.

“They’re very steamy,” she whispered. “I put them on my Kindle. The books were only ninety-nine cents each. I’m telling you this so you can see my effort and the significant amount of money I’ve spent to better understand you.”

“I’m not a werebear.”

“Bear shifter.”

“Maris,” he gritted out, his dark eyebrows arching high under his hat.

She leaned closer and said, “Your secret is safe with me, BearMan. I won’t even tell the cows.”

“Get in the truck,” he muttered.

“Really?” She barely staved off the squeal in her throat.

“Yes, get in. Please for the love of everything holy, stop talking and get in before I change my mind.”

“You can hang my bear picture from the sun visor…”

Bryson put his fist in front of his mouth and huffed a frustrated sigh.

“I’ll get my purse,” she told him and made her way to the house, only turning to give him her most annoying smile twice.

He was standing there looking defeated but fighting a grin, head cocked, watching her,.

Break pony…break.

She’d lied. She wasn’t going in only to get her purse, but definitely headed back in to get cute for a man. A large man with all muscles and tattoos and who growled like a bear.

Ponytail holder removed, textured volume spray applied to her long brunette hair, a black long-sleeved shirt she’d never worn hugging her tits like a second skin, skinny jeans she broke a sweat wrestling herself into, and the only pair of shoes she owned without a speck of mud on them. She’d bought them the day after her divorce was finalized from a company in Portland, Oregon named Wesco. She’d seen an ad for them online, calling the badass ankle boots “Black Widows,” and she’d been in a mood at the time and a bottle of wine in, so she’d charged her credit card and waited two months for them to be custom made and shipped to her. They were black leather with a burgundy colored heel and biker straps and buckles on them. She’d worn them exactly three times around the house, but tonight…these were her werebear-getting shoes.

He’d really sent those pictures and that video to Dallas. She couldn’t stop randomly giggling, which was unfortunate because she was trying to do eyeliner. Dallas had texted her hello? twice, but she’d ignored him and felt superior. Silence was his least favorite game, but she’d gotten real good at it over the past year.

She spritzed some peach spray on her boots, grabbed her purse, and bustled out the door. Her ankle actually felt good and supported in these Black Widows.

When she opened the front door, Bryson said, “It took you seven years to— Holy. Shit.”

He was sitting on the porch swing and had changed his grumpy tune real quick when he saw her come around the corner.

His rum-colored eyes dragged the length of her body and back up, lingered on her tits, and then his smile turned wicked as he locked onto her face. “Take seven years whenever you want, woman. You fix up real nice.” He stood and adjusted himself, and her cheeks heated. She sure did blush around him easy.

“It’s my first date since…you know.”

She thought he would deny it was a date, but he didn’t. Instead, he offered her the crook of his elbow and guided her down the stairs to his truck, then around to the passenger’s side.

His eyes tightened at the corners. “Before you go out with me, I need to clear the air.”

“I already know what you are so—”

“It’s worse than that, Maris.” When he searched her face, such seriousness swam in his eyes. “I told you my wife died? You should know how. You should know what you’re in for if you choose to spend time with me.”

She swallowed hard. “Tell me then.”

“I bit her.”

Her heart drummed against her chest. In a horrified whisper, she asked, “You killed her? Like you did that wolf?”

“No. I bit her on purpose. Just once. I tried to Turn her. People like me aren’t born, Maris. Shifters aren’t part of the natural food chain. We’re made with a bite. Only my maker bit me in the woods one night and left me to die. He didn’t Change me on purpose. He just lost control. So he never explained the rules to me. I had to figure everything out the hard way. Including the rules of Change. Females don’t take the animal well. She asked to be like me so she could understand, so she could be closer to me. She asked and I didn’t say no, and it got her killed. The animal I gave her poisoned her.”

“Oh, my gosh,” she uttered, leaning heavily against the truck. What pain and guilt he must carry. All that weight on his shoulders. All that loss. “Bryson…I’m so sorry.”