~

 

“Don’t say that,” Bowie growled. “You can’t say that.”

“I can and I did, and I meant it.” Mitzi said.

Mine…

Bowie wasn’t sure which way was up. She’d certainly turned him on his head, or was it his ass?

She wanted him.

His mate wanted him.

How the hell was he supposed to deal with that?

He knew what he wanted to do — he wanted to take her in his arms, kiss her, love her as a mate would. But he wasn’t a mate — not mate material — not the man, or the mate that she needed.

But he wanted to be. He wanted that so much that it hurt.

“Nothing to say?” Mitzi asked.

She wanted to turn in his arms, look up into his eyes, and read him for herself. But Bowie had a lock on her body that prevented her from doing just that.

“What do you want me to say?” Bowie whispered the words. It was hard enough for him to find his voice as it was, he didn’t want her to hear any emotion in it. She couldn’t get the wrong idea about them.

“Something.”

“You deserve better than me.” Bowie growled.

Mitzi heard the words, took a breath in, and was all ready with a denial but he had already released her from his hold, and was gone.

“Oh — the hell — no you don’t,” Mitzi growled out.

If Bowie thought that was the end of the conversation then he was wrong. She started after him, hard on his heels, and she wasn’t going to stop until she gave him a piece of her mind.

“Coward,” Mitzi called after him.

When he entered the darkness of the tree line he disappeared from view for a moment until she reached that darkness and could pick him out in the shadows. She wasn’t about to let him away like that.

Bowie heard her words and kept walking. His beast growled within him at her accusation, and his insides twisted as he longed to deny it.

“You can fight a crazy bear for a challenge — but you run from me,” Mitzi called after him.

Mine…

Bowie couldn’t take it a moment longer. He turned fast and moved on his feet even faster.

One moment Mitzi was stalking after him, and the next she found her back pressed up against the hardness of a tree trunk, with his even harder body pressed up against hers.

There was no fear within her. People might have said that he was a crazy bear, and yet all she saw was her mate.

“Don’t say that,” Bowie growled.

Mine…

“Coward,” Mitzi taunted him.

“I’m not running from you — I’m saving you from me,” Bowie growled.

“Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want saving from you?” Mitzi hissed back in a low whisper of annoyance and frustration that was born from what she saw as the stupidity of the man, the mate — her mate.

“No,” Bowie growled.

Mine…

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” Mitzi demanded.

Bowie couldn’t quite understand what she was asking him. His beast growled at him and clawed to be set free.

Even his damn crazy-ass bear was shamed by her question.

“No — never,” Bowie had a desperate need within his very soul to assure her that the last thing he ever would do was to hurt her.

He guessed that he hadn’t known that truth until the moment that she’d asked the question. He might have been crazy bear, but not with her — never with her — or Joshua.

“Then what’s the problem?” Mitzi demanded.

“I don’t…” Bowie shook his head. His mind was reeling — his emotions were raw — and he couldn’t think straight.

“Let me give you a clue,” Mitzi said.

She pushed up onto her tiptoes, and put her soft, warm lips to his.

Mine…

Nothing that Bowie could have done would have prevented what happened next.

 

~

~

~

 

Maggie placed the cups that she and Roland had been using in the sink, and turned to find Roland practically pressed against her. He had a strange look on his face, almost blissful.

“What are you doing?” Maggie asked with a small chuckle of surprise.

“Nothing.” He’d said it too fast for it to be true.

“Roland?”

Roland pulled his head back on his neck and looked down at his mate. She had that tone of voice — it was a cross between the one that his mother used to use, and one of his homeroom teachers.

That tone of voice made him feel guilty. Of course, at that moment he was guilty.

“Nothing,” he lied again.

“You were doing something,” Maggie said. Now she had that look on her face, a look that said; spill it.

“Bedtime,” Roland shot back.

He went to move away and heard her sigh, and boy, but he hated to hear her sigh because that made him feel guilty too.

“Were you sniffing me?” Maggie asked.

She thought she’d caught him scenting the air quite a few times tonight, but she didn’t call him on it because she couldn’t be sure.

“I…” He stopped to consider his words.

“Oh, my God, you were sniffing me,” she bit out on a small chuckle of disbelief.

“I might have caught a scent on the air or … something,” Roland lied again.

“Yeah — me,” Maggie folded her arms, tipped her head to the left, and raised her eyebrows at him.

“It might have smelt good.” Roland shrugged his broad shoulders and continued to look guilty.

“What girl doesn’t like to hear that she smells good?” Maggie said.

“Oh, you do,” Roland fell right into her trap.

“See — you were sniffing me.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed an accusing finger at him, and Roland could have head-butted the nearest damn wall.

“I…” He thought about trying to deny it once more, “was,” he grumbled. What was the point in continuing to deny what they both knew? He was busted.

“Stop sniffing me,” Maggie grumbled back, frowning at her mate and berating him with a look.

“But, honey … sweetheart, you smell so good.”

Roland offered her a cocky grin, and she tipped her chin down and regarded him from under her long lashes in return. He didn’t need to be a genius to know that his words hadn’t won the day.

“You are not going to go around sniffing me for the next nine months,” Maggie berated him.

“Actually — I think I might.” Roland grinned from ear to ear at the mention of her pregnancy.

The way he saw it; he was already busted, she was already mad, and so he figured he might as well tease the hell out of her.

“Actually — just you try and see what happens,” she berated him again. “You might be this big bear shifter. You might have claws and fangs when you want them,” she wagged her finger at him, “but if I catch you sniffing the air near me like you’re looking for breakfast one more time…”

“One more time, so I can never sniff again?” Roland chuckled. That was never going to happen.

“Fine. Three sniffs a day,” Maggie tossed back.

“Three?” Roland chuckled again, that was definitely never going to happen.

“Fine. Five.”

“Nope.”

“No more than ten.” Maggie scowled at him.

“Nope.”

“The secret to a good relationship is compromise,” Maggie said, and that time she placed her hands on her hips, and Roland considered her stance. She could talk the talk, but she’d already drawn so many lines in the sand that she’d already lost the argument.

“Not over sniffing,” Roland said.

He loved his mate to distraction, and he’d do anything that he could for her, but there was no way in hell that he was going to budge on that one because he knew he’d never be able to do it.

“Seriously?” Maggie felt the need to stomp her foot. She didn’t do it, but that didn’t stop the wanting within her.

“Yep.” Roland folded his arms across his broad chest and raised just his left eyebrow at her.

“That’s…” Maggie sighed.

“Just the way it is, sweetheart. You smell so good that it would kill me not to scent you,” Roland said.

“Well,” Maggie considered it for a long moment. “Can you be a little more stealthy about it? I’m getting a complex, like I want to sniff my armpits or something every time I catch you at it.”

“Coincidence — I want to sniff your armpits…” He teased.

“What?” She balked at the idea.

“Gotcha,” Roland chuckled.

He liked to tease her because she got nice red cheeks when he did. Hell, he could sniff every inch of her over and over again. But she was human, and he guessed she didn’t understand that need.

“You really are weird sometimes,” Maggie chuckled.

“But you love me anyway.” Roland growled just a little as he watched her melt on the spot.

“Maybe,” she offered back, and watched that cocky smile dropped from his lips. “Ha! Gotcha.”