All she could do now was ride this out.
And maybe… just maybe she was ready for a change. When she’d taken to the woods so long ago, she’d had no plan. No time limit for how long she planned on being gone. She’d told her sister not to look for her. Maybe she’d listened, maybe she hadn’t. There was no way of knowing. But she’d had her own family to take care of. A husband and two small children.
Clara let herself wonder about them. As a rule, she didn’t think of her past. It wasn’t welcome in her woods. But technically, she wasn’t there anymore.
Esther would be eight now, and Hillary, eleven. Almost a teen. She would have missed so much of their childhood.
Clara closed her eyes, letting the water hit her face and wash away any tears. She wasn’t sure if they were there or not, and she didn’t want to know.
Better not to know. Feeling was too hard.
At base, she needed to survive. She did not need to feel.
She grabbed the disposable razor she’d found in Eagan’s cabinet. It felt like hitting the jackpot, finding one that he hadn’t used. She didn’t even care that it was a man’s. A razor was a razor was a razor. And this thing had five blades so it was like, the Lamborghini of razors. Who the hell needed five blades?
She looked down, considering her bush, and amended that.
What man needed five blades?
Using Eagan’s spicy smelling conditioner as shave cream, she carefully dragged the razor over her legs. But there was hardly anything to remove after her spa clay treatment.
She shivered. Never again.
She repeated the process with her underarms and tried to figure out what to do with her bikini area. The cavewoman in her said to leave it. The hair was there for a reason. But maybe a little trim would be a good idea. Who knew when she’d find another razor.
Did they offer razors in prison or was that something you had to buy with the three cents you got for making license plates or whatever.
She started at the crease of her thigh and worked inward, but it was less shaving and more hacking away, machete in the brush style. Eagan’s Lamborghini razor wasn’t cutting it.
Clara sighed. A slight culling would have to do.
She turned off the water and dried her body with his too-soft towels. She’d miss sun-drying. Bathing in the hot springs. Even that harsh unscented soap.
Quickly, she dressed in Eagan’s clothes. He was right, the fabric was much softer than her jeans and flannel. At one time she’d have considered it comfortable. But now she was used to rough and tough. She had calluses. Plenty on the outside. And not as many as she’d hoped for on the inside.
In the cabinet, she found mouthwash. She rinsed and gargled. It was the best she could do with her toothbrush being back at camp.
With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped into the main room. Eagan stood at the bed, fluffing a pillow.
“Feel better?” he asked, not looking at her.
“A little. You?”
He found her eyes, smirking. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
She shrugged. “It’s okay, you know. Masturbating is perfectly normal. Functional even.”
His jaw opened in surprise. Why did he always look like that with her? What she’d said wasn’t that weird.
Unless…
“Or maybe cat-men don’t masturbate? I-I don’t know how all that works for you. I just assumed—”
“It works the same,” he blurted.
She shrugged. “Okay then.”
He tossed the fluffed pillow to the bed.
“I didn’t masturbate.”
“Oh. Well. You know… not my business really. You said you needed time so I thought…”
Eagan closed his eyes as if his head hurt. “Dear god, woman. Can we stop with the sex talk?”
She wanted to laugh. He was strong and gorgeous and he probably had women often, but he came off like a prude.
Clara frowned. Did he have women often? The thought bothered her. If she was his mate and all, it seemed like something she should know about him.
“Aren’t you a sexual person, Eagan?”
He froze but then answered her. “More than you know, little woman.”
So he did have sex. He just didn’t like to talk about it.
A kernel of jealousy niggled at her.
“Get in bed,” he commanded.
“We aren’t sleeping together.”
“Oh, yes we are. It’s the only way we’re sleeping. I’m not letting you out of my reach so you can escape me. We have shit to work out in the morning, but for tonight, this is what’s happening.”
Clara eyed him. Something told her she wasn’t getting out of this. She glanced at the bed. The idea of sleeping in a real bed after so long left her uneasy. But after what he’d done in the kitchen to keep her safe…