“Starla, is it the blood?” Rachel asked, taking a step closer out of reflex. Starla didn’t do well with blood, not after her husband had come after her with a paring knife six months ago and cut her up before help could arrive. Starla nodded, shutting her eyes tight.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” Grayden told her. His tone was still soft but firm now, leaving no room for argument. “I’m putting pressure to stop the bleeding.” He looked over his shoulder. “Rachel, do you have a first aid kit?”

  “Yes, in the clinic. I’ll run and get it.”

  Grayden grumbled something about having one in every room but she didn’t stay long enough to tell him they only had the 1 kit. She ran into the clinic and yanked the box of supplies off the shelf. Then she ran back to the kitchen.

  Grayden stood closer to Starla now and she was smiling, all the earlier tension gone from her body. She was looking up at Grayden with a clear expression and when he said something to her in a low voice, she laughed.

  Rachel stopped, mid-stride, and stared.

  She’d never once heard Starla laugh in all the months she’d been here. The woman had been through bloody hell, literally. She barely smiled and when she did it never quite reached her rounded gypsy eyes. And here she was laughing. At Grayden. Something dark and hot streaked through Rachel and she bit back the urge to snap at Grayden to get out of her way.

  She walked over and handed him the first aid kit, shoving it at him a little harder than necessary. Grayden looked over at her, one brow raised, but he didn’t comment. He grabbed the necessary items out of the box and began bandaging Starla’s hand.

  Rachel stood in the background, arms crossed, as she watched them.

  “Your people were fortune tellers then?” Grayden was asking her.

  “Mm, yes,” Starla said, her strange accent heavier than usual. It always got that way when she talked about her past. “I was seventeen when I left the business. For Henry. He was a smooth talker,” she said. “Although not as smooth as you.”

  Grayden laughed and the richness of it jolted Rachel. “My mother used to say the same thing,” he said. “She called it a curse and a gift.”

  “Wise woman,” Starla said, nodding. “And which did you use it for?”

  Grayden shook his head. “A little of both,” he said and Starla gave a sad smile.

  “Thank you for helping me,” Starla said.

  “It was my pleasure. I tell you what, you explain to me what all’s going on with this meal and I’ll do the cutting. How does that sound?” Grayden asked.

  Starla smiled, clearly relieved at relinquishing the knife. “That would be wonderful. I’m making vegetable soup. You can finish cutting the celery and beets.” She pointed and Grayden got to work.

  Rachel slipped out after that, heading off to her own list of tasks for the day. She checked on Grayden twice and each time found him and Starla laughing and talking as if they’d been friends forever. The same dark streak of jealousy panged her but underneath that, she marveled at how he’d brought Starla out of her shell. When they’d finished, she found Grayden towel-drying the dishes, the pot on the stove simmering and giving off a delicious aroma. Starla was gone.

  “All done?” she asked.

  “Looks that way,” he said, dropping the towel on the counter as he made his way over.

  “Where’s Starla?”

  “She went to check on her daughter,” Grayden said.

  Rachel nodded. “She’s very protective.”

  “She and Angeline had it rough,” Grayden said and Rachel cocked her head.

  “How do you know so much after forty minutes of food prep?”

  He shrugged. “Starla shared her story.” His expression darkened. “I am glad her husband got what was coming to him in the end. I only wish Starla didn’t have to be the one to do it.”

  “Her husband had already stabbed her six times and was coming after Angeline. She did what was necessary to protect her loved one.”

  Grayden glanced away looking slightly uncomfortable. “I know what it’s like to do bad things for good reasons,” he said finally.

  Rachel stared up at him, wondering what bad thing he’d done for a good reason. Certainly, his reputation as a Bad News Bear wasn’t what he referred to. None of that seemed like a good enough reason to cause the trouble he was known for. Patrice had said there were things in his past, things no one knew. She wondered what it could be that made him able to relate so easily to a woman like Starla.

  “You are good for this place,” she said and he blinked, looking over at her.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You relate to them. You make them feel safe and now that I see how easily you talk to them, I think it will be good for them to see a male around here. A man that isn’t threatening. I was going to make you do errands and outside work that would keep you away from them,” she admitted. “I thought you would scare them but you don’t.”

  Grayden’s eyes darkened and he pinned her with a look that made her want to take a step back. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. Easy. Like coaxing a startled animal. “Is that it then? Do I scare you?”

  “What? No, of course not.” She tried to scoff, to brush it away, but even she could hear the lie in her words. She took a small step back. “I wasn’t talking about me. These women have been through hard things, and I didn’t want to spook them.”

  He took a step toward her. Reflexively, she took another step back. His eyes narrowed, going from curious to suddenly aware. Of what, she didn’t know. And it scared her, whatever he’d so easily seen inside her.

  “I’m not going to hurt you any more than I’d hurt them,” he said quietly.

  “I know that,” she said but he shook his head, stalking closer.

  “No, you don’t. I’m a shifter. Heightened senses,” he explained. “And I can smell the fear rolling off you every time I walk in.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” she began. She’d backed away as far as she could now and her shoulders thudded against the wall.

  “Is it?” Grayden leaned in, his gray eyes stormy and swirling as they bored into hers. “Because even now, I can smell your fear mixed with your desire. I smelled it on you the night you arrested me and all through your little interrogation. You’re drawn to me just as I’m drawn to you. Your scent doesn’t lie but you do. Why are you pretending? And what are you so afraid of?”

  “I …” Rachel trailed off, at a loss. She couldn’t brush it off, she couldn’t lie, and she couldn’t pretend. Not with Grayden, not now. He already knew too much for her to do any of those things. And, truth be told, she was sick of them anyway. “I am not afraid of you, Grayden. I’m afraid of men. Of getting close to them,” she said quietly.

  She stared down at the button on his shirt. Her cheeks were flushed with heat. She’d never admitted that out loud before. Not to her therapist in college, not to anyone. What if he laughed? Or ignored it and did what he wanted with her? She’d heard shifters could be dominant when it came to sex. Not taking no for an answer. Grayden definitely had the brute strength for that. She gulped even as liquid pooled at the idea of him ravaging her that way.

  But Grayden slipped his finger underneath her chin and tilted her head up ever so gently. “I’m not going to ask you to talk about it if you’re not ready,” he said, so close now that his hot breath hit her cheeks. “But I think it’s time we stopped pretending about what’s going on between us. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you, and I think you want me too. But I’m not going to force you. It won’t be easy for me, for my bear, but we can wait.”

  A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Thousands of possible answers. She could deny it—again. Pretend she didn’t feel what he felt. But she was tired of that. And his comment about smelling it on her had zapped what little was left of that lie anyway. Instead, she told the truth. “It could be a while,” she admitted.

  “You’re worth it to me.”

  Rachel blinked, standing straighter and staring at Grayden like she’d never seen him before. The gentle, patient way he’d spoken to her was nothing like she’d expected from him. The softness in him, and the way he looked at her, like she was worth waiting an eternity for, crumbled the last of her defenses against him.

  “It happened in college,” she whispered, surprised at the way the words tumbled right out after being kept in for so long. “He was in my study group, walking me home after a late night of cramming for a test. He’d always been nice. Aloof but nice. He tried to kiss me and I let him for a moment and then ended it. Tried to go inside, but I never made it that far.”

  Her words were barely above a whisper but Grayden wasn’t even breathing as he listened to her talk. She prayed he wouldn’t interrupt. If he did, she’d lose it. And she wouldn’t be able to finish.

  “He dragged me around the side of the building. In the shadows. And he… he raped me,” she finished, her throat raw at the memory. “I pressed charges and he was convicted but he was young, had no priors. He got off with 6 months.” Grayden growled at that and Rachel agreed. “I know, it’s why I became a cop,” she admitted.

  “And why you stay away from men,” he finished.

  She nodded. “I haven’t dated since.”

  A calloused hand came up to brush her cheek and tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. So gentle, again, that it made Rachel shudder. “It’s very brave. Taking a job that will forever put you in danger. Starting this place, surrounding yourself with women who have been hurt in similar ways.”

  “Thank you,” she said. She’d never really seen herself as brave before. She’d become a cop to fight the fear and always felt she was only just keeping it at bay rather than conquering it. But the way Grayden had said it, the way he looked at her now, made her feel brave for the first time in years.

  “I will not hurt you, I swear it,” he said in a low voice that sent tingles through her.

  She finally met his eyes and when she did, she knew in her heart that he was right. Something clicked and she knew instinctively that, as rough and tumble as Grayden Larchmont was, he would never, ever hurt her. He was safe.

  Suddenly, all of her dormant feelings and pent-up desire came rushing to the surface. Like a dam bursting, she couldn’t contain it any longer. She couldn’t fight it, and she didn’t want to.

  Without another word, she reached up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. She’d expected force but what she found was firm intensity and gentleness. His mouth moved only as fast as hers. He was letting her lead, she realized, and the gratitude and relief at that made her braver.

  She deepened the kiss, pressing into him, grabbing a handful of his shirt to steady herself. Still, Grayden never went farther than she invited. When she parted her lips and his tongue brushed hers, she sighed. Grayden growled softly. It was the only indication that he was holding himself back and Rachel felt a rush over the power he was giving her. She gripped him tighter, never wanting this exquisite balance of giving and taking to end.

  A noise in the hall startled her and she yanked away, panting, as footsteps approached. A second later, another of the shelter residents called out and a door closed. They were still alone.

  She found Grayden smiling down at her and offered a wry grin of her own. “Bravery has its limits,” she said and Grayden laughed and led her out.

  CHAPTER TEN

  GRAYDEN

  Hunt was going to kill him. This was nothing compared to the fights. His bear had been pining for Rachel Hawkins for weeks now and after the kiss they’d just shared back there in the kitchen, there would be no chance of walking away. They hadn’t even slept together yet—which was the traditional way a grizzly claimed a mate—and already he knew. He might not have claimed her yet, but, whether she knew it or not, she’d certainly claimed him.

  Grayden Larchmont belonged to a cop. Ryker and the others were never going to let him live this down. Grayden shook his head at that but then let it go as he waited for Rachel to lock her office at the end of the evening. He didn’t give a shit what they said. He didn’t care what anyone said. His bear had made a decision. It was as simple—and complicated—as that.

  “You don’t have to wait for me,” she said, still fumbling with her bag.

  He reached out and took the oversized bag from her shoulder. “I know,” he said simply as he hefted the load onto his shoulder. “Where are you parked?”

  “This way.” Rachel gave him a small smile and his bear did a little happy dance at that. She led the way and he followed, content for a second time with the view from the rear. His woman had a great ass.

  When they got outside, he fell into step beside her

  “What are you doing for dinner?” he asked as they crossed the parking lot.

  “Dinner?” Rachel asked, her face flushing. God, he loved when she did that. So innocent. He knew now it was a product of what had happened to her in college which made him want to beat on something. But he loved the way he could so easily throw her off balance. Like this was her first time at flirting, dating, love—everything.

  It was his too, but he hadn’t told her that yet.

  “Yes, dinner,” he repeated, chuckling. “You know, that meal after lunch but before bed.” He felt his cock stir at the mention of bed. Not yet, he reminded himself. Slow.

  “I, um, don’t have any plans,” Rachel began but then she stopped, midstride.

  Her attention wasn’t on him or the question. She was frowning, her horrified gaze locked on something just ahead. He followed her gaze to a red SUV at the very back of the lot where a broken-down fence bordered the space. The SUV’s windshield had been shattered and the hood spray-painted in black with the words “You’ll Pay.” Underneath it, an address had been carved into the paint probably with a key.

  “Oh my God,” Rachel choked out.

  Grayden’s blood boiled and he dropped the bag at Rachel’s feet, wandering closer to the wrecked car. “What the fucking hell?” he demanded.

  Movement to his left caught his eye. He turned to find a slim figure in a gray hoodie darting away between cars. A can of paint dangled from the person’s hand.

  Grayden took off after him, shockwaves of fury driving him as he sprinted across the asphalt.

  The man zig-zagged right and disappeared through a small hole in the fence. Grayden was about to bust through a few more planks and follow when he heard a scream behind him. He whirled and found a second figure, this one in a black ski mask and black hoodie, with his arm locked around Rachel’s neck. She was pawing at him but he was dragging her toward a van parked at the far end, and her balance was off as she stumbled along, trying to keep up with his speed.

  Grayden roared and before he could make the decision consciously, he shifted. His fur sprouted and the bear ripped its way free. He landed on four paws, barreling toward Rachel’s attacker. The masked man looked up at him and even through the mask, Grayden saw his eyes widen. He released Rachel and she fell, rolling away with a yelp. Grayden opened his jaw, exposing sharp teeth, and ran faster.

  The man turned and sprinted for the van, leaping into the open cargo area as tires squealed and it took off. Grayden reached Rachel as the van disappeared around the corner.

  He roared again at having lost the van but he knew he had to let it go for now. Rachel needed him.

  He shifted back and dropped onto the ground beside where she was still sprawled. She was cradling her wrist and wincing but stopped as she caught sight of Grayden. Her eyes swept the length of him and her jaw fell open.

  Grayden grinned as her cheeks flushed. “Like what you see?” he asked, enjoying the way she was struck speechless at the sight of him naked.

  “I…” Rachel flushed. She tried moving but winced again when her hand landed against the pavement.

  “What is it?” Grayden asked, his teasing falling away as concern struck him like a battering ram. “You’re hurt.”

  “My wrist,” she said, cradling it again. He took it gently in his hands and felt heat pulsing from it. “I think I sprained it. God, I didn’t think… I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  “Me?” He shook his head. “It was you they wanted. You about gave me a heart attack, woman. What kind of crazy shit are you wrapped up in?”

  She began to tremble and he saw her eyes glaze over as shock set in. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened or why…” She trailed off and he saw the tears pooling in the corners of her lids. That did it. He knew he’d promised to take things slow for her but he hadn’t factored attempted kidnapping into the mix.

  “It’s okay,” he said.

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not. I’m a cop. I should have reacted better. I just…I didn’t expect it and I was distracted. God. I don’t even have my weapon on me. I leave it in the car when I come here so I don’t scare the women.” She swallowed hard, blinking furiously.

  “Come on,” he said, scooping her up and heading for his truck.

  She cried out in surprise but he kept walking. “Put me down,” she said.

  “I’m about to just as soon as we reach the truck,” he said, still walking. He hoped none of the residents of the shelter, or any neighboring building, was watching. He could only imagine what it would sound like when it made it back to Hunt: his carrying Rachel to his truck, stark naked.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked as he opened the door and set her carefully inside the cab of his truck.

  “You’re coming home with me,” he said.

  “No way,” she protested but he noticed she didn’t try to escape or fight him as he strapped her in. “I can’t come home with you,” she said.

  “Do you have any idea who just tried to pull you into the back of a creeper van in broad daylight in downtown Timber Falls?” he demanded.

  “Well, no,” she admitted.

  “Or why?” he added.

  “No, but⁠—”

  “Until we do, you’re coming home with me where I can protect you,” he said. Without waiting for an answer, he shut her door and stalked around to the driver’s side and got in. Rachel was already punching numbers into her phone with shaky hands.