Gray Back Alpha Bear(21)

“You did?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, come on.” Creed led her to his truck, which was parked at an angle in her side yard. Different sizes of lumber hung out across the open tailgate, but that wasn’t what he was after. Two matching rocking chairs sat in the back. He pulled them out, one in each hand, as if they weighed nothing.

“Oh, Creed,” she said on a gasp. She ran her fingers down the distressed, antique white paint. The cushions were a soft gray with darker gray bears printed all over them. “Who made these?”

“Did you meet Cassie, Matt’s sister? And Riley? They make this stuff. Real quality work, so I bought these off of them before they took them to the flea market this weekend. I’ve asked them to make a little rocking chair, too.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with emotion. “For our baby?”

He nodded and kissed her forehead. “They’ll have it done as soon as they track down a kid’s-sized rocker. Come on, Bombshell. Tell me where you want these.”

Bombshell. She’d hated the nickname before now, but when Creed said it, it was with an easy curve to his lips and affection in his warm tone. He didn’t say it to hurt her. He just wanted to call her by a pet name, like Matt did with Willa.

She followed him up the stairs and scooped Peanut Butter Spike into her arms, cuddled him close as he licked under her chin. Standing here in the waning light, the sun sinking behind the breathtaking mountain scenery behind her trailer, happiness washed over her.

Creed talked about his day, about how they’d actually gone without fighting and met their numbers. He seemed happy, relaxed, and looked back at her with an easy smile as he positioned the rocking chairs where she pointed.

He sat in one, and she in the other, hugging her dog and smiling at Creed as he talked about the dinner he was going to make her tonight.

And it struck her that she didn’t want this to be a temporary stop on her way to a life down in Saratoga—dangerous thoughts since Creed hadn’t bonded to her.

In her heart, she secretly wished that someday Creed would see her as more than the easy friendship he was forging with her.





Chapter Eight




The old, warped, brown plastic shower in 1010 didn’t have a plug to the drain, and Gia was desperate for a warm bath to relax the tight muscles in her hips. She’d turned on an old static-laden radio she’d found in the bathroom closet and lit a single candle she’d found, but there would be no bath unless she could figure out how to stop up the dad-gummed drain.

Willa was smart and would probably have something rigged up in no time, but Gia was already undressed, and the prospect of re-dressing to beg for help was unappealing. Maybe if she shoved her shaving cream cap over the hole, the water pressure would hold it down enough to stop up the drain.

The water was loud and already hot as it blasted out of the faucet, and she held the cap over the rim of the drain until the water rose above it. Come on, baby, one time!

She turned the tap off, took her hand away, and waited. She didn’t hear any water draining, and the water line looked like it was holding steady. Even if it was going down a little, it was still a victory. She’d have to be careful not to kick the cap, but she was getting her bath, hooray! She’d even sprung for bubbles at the grocery store. Sure, it was a cheap, cartoon kiddy bubble bath and smelled like cotton candy, but whatever. This right here was about to be a little slice of heaven.

Gia groaned as she slipped into the water and smoothed the thick layer of bubbles over her like a blanket. She never wanted to leave.

A soft knock rapped on her bathroom door, and she jumped, splashing suds out the side of the tub. “Shit,” she muttered. “What?”

“It’s me,” Creed said.

Gia’s eyes flew open, and she rushed to cover back up with bubbles. “Come in.”

“Uh, I can come back later.” A pause and then, “Dangit, um…never mind. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“No! Come in, I mean it. I’m decent.” Or decent enough if the bubbles stayed in place. Plus Creed sounded nervous, and she definitely didn’t want to wait until morning to find out what he wanted.

Creed opened the door and entered, but when he saw her in the bathtub, he jolted to a stop as if he’d been shot. “No,” he said on a raspy breath. He took a step back. “No, no, no.” Horror filled his voice.

Gia looked around in panic for the danger. “What’s wrong?”

Creed was panting, chest heaving, and his eyes had lightened to an inhuman silver color. He bolted from the room, slamming into the washer with his hip as he passed.