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Eventide of the Bear by Cherise Sinclair (24)

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next day, as Ben drove down the small road toward home, he counted off the blessings the Goddess had scattered into his life.

His house was no longer empty…it was a home.

Ryder’s return had healed the soul-deep pain of the damaged littermate bond.

Minette’s silent joy had changed the very air. Fuck, he’d never thought he’d have a child. Her tiny smiles filled his spirit to overflowing.

Then there was Emma. She made him feel so many things—aroused, insane, and just plain happy. Whenever he saw her, his heart glowed, as if lit by a roaring fire.

He needed to discuss her with Ryder. Although Genevieve had burned Ryder badly, Emma was healing his distrust. They’d been together last night, and he’d never seen Ryder look so content.

There was no hurry though. He could wait, rather than pushing ahead, although patience wasn’t a bear’s strength.

As he pulled into the driveway, he saw Emma sitting beside the flower garden that bordered the curb. At one time, the yards had boasted extravagant landscaping, but the place had stood empty for years. Concentrating on repairing the house, Ben hadn’t given the grounds any attention.

After parking in the garage, he walked across the front yard and stopped beside her. “Are you taking care of that leg?” She’d actually danced across the room when Donal announced she didn’t have to wear the brace any longer.

“Yes, Daddy Bear.” She rolled her pretty eyes.

Not nervous with him any longer, was she? Pleased, he stood and enjoyed the view. The sunlight lingered on her as if finding a mate for its glow. Her hair rivaled its rosy shine; her golden skin held the palest of pink flushes.

She’d donned a flannel shirt he’d given her. Despite rolling up the sleeves, she still resembled a cub trying on her father’s garments. With her every movement, the fabric curved around her full breasts.

He remembered the wondrous weight of those lush breasts in his palms…and the feeling of her curvy body in his arms. He’d missed her last night.

“Do you mind me cleaning up the flower beds?” she asked. “The crocus is blooming, but it’s buried by so many weeds, you can’t even see it. And you have daffodils coming up.”

He squatted down beside her. “Have at it, darlin’. Anything would be an improvement.”

“This is true,” she said. “I’m surprised at the mess, actually. You look after everything else so carefully.”

He was warmed by the compliment, since he did try to tend well whatever was entrusted to him. “The landscaping is on my list—but not soon. So, once you finish here, feel free to start in the back gardens.”

She blinked in surprise. “I know the Cosantir pushed you to put me up until I could get around on my own and find a job. But I’m moving all right, and now the mess with Cedrick is over, I can access my bank account.” She smiled slightly. “I guess it’s good that Cosantirs don’t control human banks. Anyway, I should find my own place.”

The thought of her leaving shattered his tranquility. “No.” His voice came out as a growl.

She looked up at him with big eyes, her soft, pink lips slightly parted. The skin above and between her breasts was damp with sweat.

As he caught the light feminine musk of her scent, all the blood in his body went to his cock. His growl deepened. He wanted to lay her back and feel her squirm as he licked the salty sweat away and suckled her rose-tipped nipples. He’d work his way down to every other scent on her body.

“No?” she repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“But…” She stared at her hands, then her shoulders straightened, and she summoned the inner courage that still made his heart skip a beat. “I would like to stay, but there are other people here than just you and me.”

With a grunt of understanding, he lowered himself onto the lush grass, close enough that his shoulder rubbed hers. He took her hand and brushed the dirt from her palm before kissing the warm, soft center. “This is true,” he echoed her from before. “Tell me, honey bear, after last night, how do you feel about my brother?”

An adorable flush pinkened her cheeks. “I—”

Behind them, the front door slammed. Like a woodpecker, Minette’s little feet tapped across the wooden porch, down the steps, and the cub dashed across the lawn toward them.

Ben stood. The discussion of Emma’s staying would have to wait.

He caught Minette up, raspberried her belly, swung her over his head, and let her pull his hair. Cubs. When he set her down, she hugged his leg.

Ryder came out the door and prowled across the lawn, working his arms and shoulders. “Home early, bro? Going to help me with the payroll?”

“Right about the time the dwarves give up mining. That payroll shit’s a major pain in the tail.” Seeing the cub’s mouth go O-shaped, Ben caught what he’d said. Swearing. Bad bear.

Despite a frown of disapproval, Emma laughed.

Hell of a laugh, with the low, husky notes of summer breezes through an ancient forest.

Thankfully, Minette spotted a pixie in the roses lining the side yard and trotted in that direction.

Ben grinned at his brother. “Sorry, bro. Didn’t mean to corrupt your cub.”

Our cub. I daresay she’s heard worse from me.”

Emma turned her frown on him.

Ryder winced. “Guess we both need to watch our language.”

“Undoubtedly,” she said in a dry voice. “Unless you want her first spoken sentence to get her kicked out of kindergarten.”

“That would suck.” Ryder exchanged a rueful glance with Ben.

Ben laughed. Their two months of human kindergarten before Ryder had moved were not exactly a success. Raised by males, he and Ryder lacked anything close to manners.

Minette heard him laughing, ran back, and stopped beside Emma. With not nearly enough care for her wounded leg, Emma pulled the cub down onto her lap.

The child immediately appropriated a loose strand of the golden hair and snuggled closer. Just like a healthy, loving cub. Ryder’s pleased gaze met Ben’s.

Yes, this was a home.

“Hey, Minette, I have to pick up some hardware,” Ben said. “Could be we’ll find ice cream and a playground in town. Want to come?”

She bounced up to take his hand. In many ways, she was a delightfully normal cub, which meant food and fun made excellent bribes.

“Hell, that means I have no excuse to stop doing payroll,” Ryder grumbled.

Ben glanced at Emma. “The poor kitty looks like he got his tail stuck in the door.”

She snickered, earning herself a quick tug of her hair from the cat—followed by a brush of his lips that really did silence her.

The wide-eyed look was a good one for her, Ben decided. He grinned at Ryder and asked Emma, “Want to come with me and Minette?”

“No, thank you.” She yanked a wayward weed. “I’m going to clean this mess up and start supper. Angie gave me a recipe for meat loaf.”

“Whoa, Griz. She stays here,” Ryder said firmly. “I haven’t had meat loaf since…since we spent that winter in Elder Village. Naini knew how to make a hearty meal.”

Ben smiled at her. “See? Ryder agrees that you’ll stay.” Forever.

Shaking her head in exasperation, she threw a clod of dirt at him.

“Time to go, Minette. The honey bear is getting feisty.” Ben swung the cub up onto his shoulders, grinning as he felt her silent, little laugh. She’d obviously inherited her father’s feline sense of humor—which probably meant she’d be a cat-shifter rather than a wolf like her mother.

An hour later, kitchen fittings and door hardware bought and loaded, Ben leaned against a tree in the park behind Thorson’s BOOKS and watched his brother’s cub. No, Ryder was right; she was his cub as well. How could anyone not love such an adorable cub?

Her eyes were as bright as any kitten’s as she led her small pride across the playground. He grinned as she jumped, caught a bar, and swung up into the climbing web with a grace that rivaled her father’s. Her two buddies followed, screaming with glee as they joined her on the top.

Her silence hadn’t prevented her from making friends. Even better, over the weeks, much of her timidity had disappeared, and she was exploring her expanding world with a joyful courage. She was as smart as her sire, which pleased Ben no end.

It was true that her mother wasn’t stupid, but Genevieve’s mind functioned with more cunning than intelligence. She sure knew how to manipulate males to get her own way. Ryder said she’d been at the Gathering, picking up males to mate, and making friends with some younger females. That was worrisome.

Absently, Ben rubbed his shoulders against the tree trunk, probably wearing another hole in his shirt.

Across the park, several humans watched over a group of pre-teens. On a nearby bench, two young shifter mothers smiled at him. He’d seen them in the park before.

“It’s not often we see a male bringing his offspring to play in the park,” one said.

“Now that’s a shame. Watching a cub is far more fun than supervising a construction crew.” He wasn’t going to explain why Minette’s mother wasn’t available.

They laughed—exactly his intent—and went back to dissecting some poor buddy. Females sure got off on gossiping.

By the time, Minette had played on the swings, the climbing web, the two slides, collected a couple of scrapes, and made another three friends, Ben figured it was time to haul her home. After all, they had meat loaf—and hopefully mashed potatoes—for supper. “Minette.”

She ran across the wood shavings-covered playground onto the grass—and stopped so abruptly she stumbled.

“Hey, kitten, be ca—”

“Look who’s guarding the cub.” Hips swinging like a wrecking ball, Genevieve approached from the parking lot.

He frowned. She hadn’t been so…blatant…when he met her five or so years ago, had she? With jeans so tight he could see her private folds, and a tank top lowered to the edge of her nipples, her attire today seemed more desperate than provocative. “Genevieve, what are you doing here?”

“I saw you. I wanted to talk to you.” She gave her cub a disinterested glance. “Go play somewhere.”

Minette’s thumb was in her mouth.

“Minette.” Ben knelt, pleased that she came immediately, as if knowing he’d protect her. “Your mother wants to talk with me. Since grown-ups are boring, why don’t you play with the dump trucks until we’re done?” He pointed to the sandbox, which was safely out of earshot.

She clung for another few seconds, and he ached at the return of her timidity. Finally, she let him go and obeyed. When he noted the wide detour she made around her dam, his lips tightened.

He gave Genevieve his attention. “You have to be the worst mother I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, Ben. That’s a mean thing to say.” She donned a pitiful look in the way he’d pull on a jacket. “That’s because I just don’t know how; I didn’t have a mother.”

No, instead her three doting fathers had pampered her. From what she’d told Ryder, she’d conned them for anything she could get. Her free ride had stopped when they were killed in an avalanche around six years past.

Genevieve was looking for someone to pamper her again, but she’d give nothing in return. Her attempt at looking pitiful moved him not at all. “So, talk.”

“All right then. You’re getting attached to the cub, and from what I’ve heard, so is Ryder.” Genevieve crossed her arms over her chest, pushing up her breasts to emphasize the cleavage.

Ben gave her a cynical stare, hoping her tits didn’t pop out and give the human mothers a shock. “Your point?”

“She’s mine, and every shifter in the world would agree that a cub should live with her mother.”

Unfortunately, she was right. Daonain cubs always lived with their mothers. “They wouldn’t if they’d seen what kind of shit mother you are. Minette will get nowhere near you.”

“You mange-ridden, toothless—” Genevieve’s lips curled back from her teeth, and he wondered if she’d lose control and bite him. She took a step back. “I’m sorry,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I realize Ryder’s turned you against me, but”—she pulled in a shaky breath—“I only want what’s best for my baby.”

Yes, she was a sneaky one. “Then you’ll leave her with me and Ryder.”

“You and Ryder can keep her on one condition.” To his disbelief, she moved close enough to stroke his chest seductively. “If I move in with you. I can be your mate and take care of her.”

“She’d be better off raised by a gnome than a mother like you.” Ryder had been right about her scheme. Ben wanted to spit. “And I’d rather mate with a hellhound.”

She slapped him hard enough for the splatting sound to ring through the park. As his cheek stung, the young mothers heard and turned.

Minette? He checked the sandbox. The cub’s friends surrounded her and insulated her with their happy noise.

The shrew lowered her voice. “You’ll suffer for that insult. When Minette gets handed over to me, you’ll pay and pay to get her back.”

“You’re not gonna get money—or Minette. I’m a cahir, chosen of the God. I own a house, a company. Ryder has money and is employed. You’re an abusive mother who lives off of others. Only a fool would choose you over Ryder and me.” He stepped around her and headed for Minette, adding a final, “Be gone with you.”

Her low growl came from behind him, and he heard her padding away. By the God, he hoped that was the last they’d see of her.

As he picked up Minette, he felt her trembling. He needed to get her home. Knowing the honey bear, she’d find some comforting, diverting activity to soothe the cub.

Genevieve wasn’t the only cub to grow up without a mother. But Emma was showing not only Minette, but also Ben and Ryder, what a mother’s care might have been like.