The Bear’s Nanny by Erin Havoc

08

ASTRID

MY ARMS STRETCHED way over my head, I let out a long yawn. I slam my eyelids shut as I sway from side to side, trying to shoo sleep away. But I slept terribly last night. The first night of bad dreams ever since I arrived in Shadow Falls, and it wasn’t even because I’ve been thinking of the past.

Owen calls out, and I turn to meet his eyes inside the playpen. He balances himself on the grid and sways from side to side, muttering to me as if we’re holding a deep conversation. Then he loses his balance and drops, but his diaper takes the brunt of the impact, so he merely smiles.

“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” I tease him as I fold his clothes on the bed. The headboard is a massive slab of dark wood, beautifully carved. My fingers run over it without finding a single flaw, a single splinter. Smooth as marble.

I wonder if Kieran’s the one who made it. He told me their families built the house generations ago, and they keep it repaired, so I can only assume the furniture was made by their hands too. There’s something so heartwarming about that. About making your things yourself. About the dedication and the love that goes into every item.

This small-town life sounds better with every passing day. Even if I shouldn’t like it all that much. I’ve always had management jobs, got well paid, and all that. I should feel diminished by a job like babysitter. Even more when my marriage went to shit because of one.

I shake my head. This is stupid; it wasn’t the nanny’s fault, but Pete’s. It’s not like he accidentally got a hard-on, stumbled, and entered her vajayjay. He’s an adult, and I’m not shifting blame here.

My forehead puckers. I can’t help but frown when I remember him and the life I left behind. It wasn’t a good life, to be honest. And Shadow Falls came up at just the right time.

A car crunches the gravel outside, and I jerk up. Quickly folding the rest of the clothes, I pile them up and gather them in my arms. There’s a drawer for Owen in the other room. It could be any of the guys, but I’ve gained a strange instinctive reaction when it’s Kieran. Don’t ask me how. My body just reacts. My blood runs miles per hour in my veins, making me breathless.

I run to the closest bathroom (there are five) and fix my hair in the mirror. The blond strands touch my jaw, and at first, I thought they made my face look even rounder. But I like the practicality and how responsible it makes me look. More than how I feel, for sure.

Because I’ll have to leave, eventually. But I don’t want to.

My heart races when I hear the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs getting closer, even closer. Kieran ambles through his room’s door, his eyes immediately finding mine. It’s like we’re always looking for one another. Like there’s a certain magnetic characteristic to our relationship.

Relationship? No, there’s no relationship.

Attraction? I won’t deny it. He’s so fine to look at. Worlds away from every other man I’ve ever dated. He’s huge, tall, broad, and strong. The dark hair touching his shoulders contrasts with his blue eyes, glimmering with something I can’t quite point out. He’s handsome and serious, and I have had a crush on him from the moment we met at the grocery store.

“Welcome home,” I chime in, putting a smile on my face. Owen sings something too, possibly repeating my words, and I pick him up.

Kieran says nothing. He stops, his hand on the doorknob, and he just stares. He looks at me, then at Owen, and studies the two of us for the longest time. But I’m not afraid. His eyes shift with softness. He likes what he sees.

Kieran clears his throat and shakes his head. Not denying my welcome, but as if he needs to clear his mind. “How was your day?”

“Great,” I answer, taking a step closer so Owen can reach out for him. “Better than my night.”

Kieran picks Owen up, the tiny hands of the baby finding his hair. Owen has something with Kieran’s hair, and I get that. I’d love to run my fingers through it too.

My gaze is lost on Kieran’s bulging biceps for a moment when I notice he’s watching me. He arches an eyebrow. “You had trouble sleeping?”

“It’s silly.” I wave him off, turning on my heels to walk out of the room. “Would you like a piece of cake? I baked a chocolate one.” Then I look over my shoulder at him. “I didn’t know if you liked chocolate, though. Asher said you’d eat anything.”

Kieran makes a face. His nose curls, and his brows crease. I hold my breath. He didn’t like my idea. And here I thought it had been an amazing one.

“I like chocolate,” he grunts, the tone of his voice at odds with his words. “But you didn’t need to ask Asher. You could’ve asked me. You have my number.”

“Oh.” I shrug. “He didn’t seem to mind.” Asher’s an odd figure. He opened his door with a cocked brow and answered my questions in the coolest voice possible, almost like a robot.

“I mind,” Kieran grunts again.

My stomach feels fuzzy. Is he really jealous? He’s looking away, but I think I can read jealousy on his face just fine. I sink my teeth into my lower lip and rush down the stairs. It’s so hard to keep a smile from my face. Kieran’s jealous. And if he’s jealous, it has to mean he’s interested in me too, right?

My hand finds a knife in one of the kitchen drawers, and I cut a piece of cake without noticing my motions. Kieran’s steps enter the kitchen, and I turn to offer him the plate. His face shifts again, and he looks half-guilty as he puts Owen down so he can pick up the cake.

“I mean...” He goes on, looking between me and the sugary dessert. “You can do whatever you want. Of course.”

“Of course.”

“It’s just that...” He sways his head from side to side but doesn’t complete his thought. Kieran takes the fork that looks like a toy between his fingers and takes a bite off the cake. His lids flutter for a moment as he grunts deep in his throat. “Fuck, Astrid. This is amazing.”

I grin. A full-blown grin, holding nothing back. “Really?”

“You kidding?” He wolfs down the cake in a mere moment. I guess a man his size might need more food than this. “Best cake ever.”

I chuckle, shimming my shoulders in pride. “Thank you. So glad you like it.”

He puts the plate down and gives me a once-over. “You were saying. About having a bad night.”

“Oh.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and walk back to the living room, following Owen’s hasty crawl. “It’s not important.”

Kieran’s immediately behind me. I hadn't even noticed his approach. His hand comes up, and he makes to touch my face, but his fingers stop inches from my skin. I shiver, waiting for the contact. It doesn’t come.

“What happened?” He asks, his voice quieter. Blue eyes burn on his face, and I know he’s trying to read me.

I look away. This attraction arcing between us is dangerous. Too dangerous for a girl who wants to leave.

“I know I’m near a forest, so it should be expected. But I heard wolves howling.” I stare up at him with an embarrassed smile. “Creeped me out.”

Kieran’s hand drops. His entire face changes.

It’s so odd. I noticed there are some subjects he doesn’t like to talk about. He locks himself up when I approach them. The bloody shirt in the trash can. Sabrina’s mind powers, which began as a joke and now feel very accurate. He doesn’t talk about why he lives in a clearing in the middle of the woods with a bunch of other men. And I have no right to ask anything of him. But it’s eerily strange.

Kieran’s throat bobbles. “They’re deep in the woods. You don’t need to worry about them hurting you.”

I bite the corner of my lip. As I told him, I feel silly for being afraid. There are animals in a forest, and if I stick to downtown, nothing bad will happen.

“Deep in the woods?” I breathe at him. “Like in here?” I motion my hand to the house.

Kieran runs a hand through his hair. He seems to think about it longer than necessary. “They won’t come here.”

“The wolves?”

He nods.

“How do you know?”

He shrugs. “I just do. No wolves around here.”

This exchange creeps me out almost as much as the wolves howling. Kieran’s hiding something; this is obvious. But I can’t quite understand what or why. I can’t even be creative enough to imagine it.

And not only him. But Shadow Falls seems to have more than I can see. After a week, I expected people to stop gawking at me, but they haven’t. In fact, the gawking changed to something like side-glancing. Like they expect me to do something. I still feel welcome. Comfortable. This place soothes my hurts and makes me forget the problems of the outside world. Of the place I’ll eventually go back to.

Kieran’s fingers brush against my cheek. I meet his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, and he’s closer than I’ve ever expected. His body heat comes off in waves to hit me, to warm me. I soak it up for as long as I can. “I’ll keep you safe,” he promises, in such a low voice I can only tell myself I imagined it. Because he has no reason to make such a promise. Even if that’s what I want to hear the most in the world.