Her lips trembled into a smile. They were both weakened. "We need sleep and safety." Neither one of them would win a fight at the moment.
Bear nodded. "I want guards on full patrol all night, Lucas. We've had two bounty hunters on the property already today, and that can't happen again."
"Understood." Lucas bent and lifted Angie. "I'll take her to my place above the second garage and keep an eye on her all night."
Bear strode out of the storage area into the now vacated clubhouse. Beer bottles and dirty glasses littered every surface. "Have somebody clean this up by morning. Apparently, we have several prospects now who can be put to work."
Was that irritation in his voice? Nessa looked up at his implacable face. No expression crossed his hard features, but his eyes glittered. "What's wrong with prospective members?" she asked.
"They are human." Bear loped through the shambles to the four-wheeler outside. Cold wind swept against them. "We don't have human members. It's not smart."
Rain slashed down, and Nessa moved closer to Bear as he ignited the engine. "Feels like snow is coming," she murmured.
He tucked an arm around her waist. "I can smell winter. Should snow soon."
Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she tried to hide her face from the wind and rain. They were back at the cabin before she knew it. "I can walk."
"Not in those shoes." He tugged her across his seat and stood, striding up the cabin steps.
Her head lolled, and she rested her cheek against his bare shoulder. "You're stronger already," she said. His chest seemed wider.
"Maybe." He kicked open the door and then shut it behind them.
The fire had died down but still lent a nice warmth to the small space. The scent of pine and male filled the air.
He set her down, his eyes flaring.
She glanced at her wet, white, and now very see-through shirt. Her breasts were clearly outlined and fully on display. "Might I borrow a shirt?" she asked.
"I should say no." He turned and moved for the dinged-up dresser to draw out a green jersey with a porcupine covering the back and a label of PONTSEY PORCUPINES above it. Holding the tee, he stalked toward her. "Take off the wet shirt."
Not a chance. She took the T-shirt from him. "Turn around."
"My shirt is off," he rumbled, his cheek creasing.
No kidding. His broad chest was hard to ignore, as were his ripped abs. But his ribs were still clearly visible, showing he'd lost weight. "Turn around, Bear," she murmured.
He rolled his eyes but did as she'd asked. "Where is your luggage, anyway?" he asked.
"At the Five Winters Hotel in downtown Seattle," she returned, removing her soggy wet shirt and pulling on Bear's T-shirt. The soft material reached her thighs, so she pushed her skirt to the floor as well. With a sigh of pure relief, she kicked off her shoes. Ah. So much better. "What is a Pontsey Porcupine?" she asked.
He turned back around. "It's a local baseball team. Must've picked up the shirt at a game or something." He moved past her to stoke the fire. "You lied to me."
She stiffened. "No, I didn't."
"Yeah, you did." He set the poker back in the metal holder and dusted his hands, pivoting. "Healing people hurts you. Saps your energy."
Oh. That lie. She faced him, searching for the right words. "I never said that healing people didn't take energy. It does. The action takes a lot of energy, just like when somebody runs a marathon. I also said the action hurts."
"You said it barely hurts," he said, standing with only a threadbare rug between them.
The sofa sat to her right, and she fought the urge to move behind it. "So?"
"So? I saw the pain in your eyes when you healed Angie. Felt the hurt in the air." He rubbed the scruff on his jaw.
She sighed. "The pain is temporary and not blinding. I mean, it's not horrible." The rubber band analogy had been fairly accurate. "'Tisn't something you need to concern yourself about."
"I like your brogue," he said abruptly.
She was briefly thrown by the switch in topics. Her abdomen warmed. "Excuse me?"
"Turns me on. All the way."
Her knees weakened. The direct and deliberate Bear was back. "Do most people fall for your simple act?" She tilted her head to the side.
His lips twitched. "My simple act?"
"Aye. The good-ole-boy, cranky, simple guy who uses small sentences. You know, that guy?" She'd been inside his skin, and there were complexities on top of complexities within Bear.