Bearing the Late Thaw (Ice Bear Shifters Book 5) Read online

  Christine sighed. “He’s made it pretty clear he’s not interested in me, so I don’t think asking him to come out for a beer will work. I have to use other tactics. Besides, despite what you seem to think about this situation, I’m not getting a tattoo to try to win him over or impress him. I’ve been thinking about getting one for a long time. It’ll be fun to do it in Alaska. It’s like a permanent memory of my adventure here.”

  “I’m not sure I’d exactly call this an adventure,” Jill said, eyeing the grimy boxes stacked haphazardly all over the large warehouse.

  “Well, whatever. It’s something different than ordinary life. It’s been an interesting experience, at least.”

  “That’s true. I have to admit, driving around a snowmobile instead of a car is kind of fun. But I could do without the complete lack of cell service. And more reliable internet would be nice, too.”

  “I guess,” Christine said. “Although sometimes it’s kind of nice to be a little bit disconnected. I like having a break from the constant barrage of emails.”

  Christine glanced at her watch. It was already 5:15, and she wanted to swing by her apartment to shower and change before heading to Neal’s shop. As she started closing the box of documents she had been reviewing, Jill raised an eyebrow at her.

  “You’re leaving before six again?”

  “I’ve been here since 5 a.m. I’ve already put in more than twelve hours today, so I think I deserve a break. Besides, like I said, what are they going to do? Fire me? They need us to get this project done, so they won’t get rid of me at least until it’s over. And once I’m done here, I’m done with firm life anyways. As soon as that check is signed for that last payment on my student loans, I’m out the door.”

  “I’m so jealous,” Jill said. “I can’t wait to be done with this crap.”

  “Crap is right,” Christine said. “I’m looking forward to doing work that actually matters to someone besides a hoity toity CEO of a multimillion dollar company.”

  Christine brushed her dusty hands off on her jeans and turned to head toward the exit, giving Jill a quick goodbye wave. A few minutes later, she was on her snowmobile and speeding toward her small apartment. Once home, she took a quick shower and reapplied her makeup, then put on a lavender colored v-neck sweater and a fresh pair of jeans. She dried her hair and let it hang around her shoulders in long, sleek waves. A quick glance at her watch told her it was fifteen minutes until 6 p.m. Christine grabbed the large, insulated picnic basket she had prepared this morning, and then rushed out the door. After securing the basket in the storage area of her snowmobile, she took off at a breakneck speed toward Neal’s shop.

  As she had hoped, no other snowmobiles were parked out front. Christine would be the only client in the parlor this evening. She hopped off the snowmobile and grabbed the basket, then trudged through the snow to the front door. As she opened it, she felt the same nervous uncertainty she had felt when she saw Neal at the pub a few nights ago. His gorgeous, violet eyes unsettled her. She almost turned around and left. Glacier Point might be a small town, but it did have other men. Men who would probably be happy for a chance to spend some time with Christine. Why did she have to torture herself by going after the one single man who had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her? Especially when she was heading back to Texas in a few months, anyways.

  Christine already knew the answer to that question. She wanted to go after Neal because he had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her. She liked to prove to herself how irresistible she could be. Christine took a deep breath and smiled as she set the picnic basket up on the counter in front of Neal.

  Time to turn up the charm.

  * * *

  Neal eyed Christine suspiciously as she smiled up at him. Despite her cool, collected exterior, she was giving off an even stronger scent of arousal than she had yesterday. She smelled like a mixture of pheromones, roses, and cedarwood. He worked to keep his own arousal in check as she casually pushed back a strand of her long dark hair. His bear clawed at him from the inside, and, honestly, he couldn’t blame it. Neal couldn’t deny that Christine was exquisite. If the first thirty seconds of her being in his store were any indication of how things were going to go, he would be spending a good portion of his evening fighting off the little waves of passion that kept washing over him at the sight of her. It was going to be a long night.

  “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to the basket she had just set on the counter, even though he already knew the basket contained an assortment of food. His sensitive nose was picking up aromas of grapes, cheese, bread and red wine.

  “This, my friend, is dinner,” Christine said proudly, opening the lid of the insulated basket and confirming what Neal’s nose had already told him. “I heard you mentioning the other day at the pub how hungry you were after work. So I thought you might appreciate some food. No breaking open the wine until after you’re finished with my tattoo, though. I don’t want to be permanently marked up by a drunk guy.”

  Neal’s stomach growled at the sight and smell of food, and he realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. But he didn’t want to admit to Christine that he was touched by her gesture.

  “Let’s get down to business,” he said abruptly. “If we have time later I might consider a snack.”

  He turned away and started walking toward the tattoo chairs, mostly to avoid the disappointed look on Christine’s face. He knew he was acting harshly, but it was for her own good. She had no idea who she was chasing after. If she did, she’d probably be running in the other direction.

  Christine recovered quickly, though, closing the lid of the basket and following Neal to the chairs with a bright smile on her face.

  “Sounds good,” she said, then started digging in a small black satchel she was carrying. “I brought a picture of the tattoo I want. Do you think you can replicate this drawing on the inside of my wrist?”

  Neal took the paper that she handed to him. On it was a delicately drawn, 3D rendition of the North Star. The drawing was simple, but obviously done by someone with artistic talent. It had an understated beauty to it.

  “Who drew this?” Neal asked, admiring the artwork.

  “I did,” Christine said. Her cheeks started turning pink.

  “You drew this? I thought you said you were an attorney, not an artist.”

  Christine shrugged. “It’s just a hobby. Do you think it’s awful? Tell me if you do. I don’t want to get a tattoo of an awful drawing.”

  “I think it’s beautiful,” Neal said. When he looked up from the drawing and into Christine’s eyes, he felt a fresh wave of passionate heat wash over him. The usual, brazen confidence in her eyes had softened into a hopeful, vulnerable look. It set off his protective alpha instincts, and he had to resist the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her close.

  Christine seemed uncomfortable with the silence that hung between them, and she started talking a mile a minute. “I’ve always wanted to get this tattoo. I’ve been reworking the drawing for a few years, but it’s always been essentially the same. I’ve taken a lot of detours in my life away from what I really wanted to do. I wanted to get a North Star to remind me to never lose myself to the chaos of life. To always find my way back.”

  “I think that’s really special,” Neal said sincerely. He could see the pain in her eyes, and he felt badly for being so standoffish to her. He knew Glacier Point could be a lonely place for outsiders. Maybe all Christine really needed was for someone to be her friend while she was here. He could offer that, at least. He just had to be careful to keep his feelings from spilling over into more dangerous territory.

  “I’m going to get some supplies together and prep everything. Why don’t you go ahead and open that bottle of wine? Get yourself a glass and relax. Wine is expensive here, so you should definitely put that bottle to good use. Oh, and there’s a stack of waivers on the counter. I’ll need you to sign one for me before I start the tattoo. Since you’re an attorne
y, I bet you’re going to be the first person to actually read the damn thing.”

  Christine smiled. “I actually never read waivers. Waste of time, because none of them are perfect. You can always find something to argue over in court.”

  “Great, well, good to know my waiver means nothing to you. Sign it anyways, just to make me feel better, would you?”

  Christine grinned and went to open the wine. She sipped at a glass until Neal was ready and called her over.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded, and he started working on her wrist. She didn’t say much at first, and only winced now and then. Neal found himself overcome by her closeness and the scent of roses and cedarwood that she was giving off. It must have been her perfume.

  Halfway through the job, she suddenly drew in a sharp breath of pain.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. It just stung really badly for a second.”

  “We can take a break if you need to,” Neal said.

  “No, no. I’m okay. It just hit a particularly sensitive spot.”

  Neal continued working, but decided to talk a little more with her to try to take her mind off of the pain.

  “So, how did a fancy attorney like you end up in Glacier Point?” he asked.

  Christine sighed. “One of my firm’s clients got sued over some oil drilling that occurred decades ago. As part of preparing for the lawsuit, we have to exchange relevant documents and information with the other side. It’s a legally required process called ‘discovery,’ and it’s a pain in the butt. But we only have to turn over certain documents, and, of course, the client wants to protect as much business information as possible. Which means me and the other two attorneys here have to read through thousands of pages of documents to see if they’re the kind of information that has to be given to the other side or not. Usually we review these documents on a computer screen, inside a comfy office. But the oil drilling for this case happened so long ago that computers weren’t being used yet. The documents are all up here in a warehouse in hard copy, and someone has to review them. My firm offered a bonus to anyone willing to come work on it, and I jumped at the chance to make some extra money.”

  Neal glanced up at Christine, his eyes glazing over a bit. “That sounds painfully boring.”

  Christine laughed. “Oh, it is. But, like I said, I got a bonus for agreeing to come out here. And I’d never been to Alaska. I thought it would be a nice change of pace from Texas.”

  Neal raised an eyebrow. “Texas? That’s pretty far away from here.”

  “Yeah. I miss it a lot less than I thought I would, though. I’m actually enjoying being a little less connected out here. It’s a slower, more sane pace of life. And I love riding around on a snowmobile. Those things are freaking awesome.”

  “If you like snowmobiles, you should try taking yours for a spin out on the open tundra. There are some great, wide open spots near here where you can really have some fun.”

  “That sounds so awesome!” Christine said. “Can you show me where?”

  Neal hesitated as he looked up at Christine’s dark brown eyes. He knew agreeing to spend time with her out on the tundra was dangerous. The sight of her made his insides tighten up with desire, and being alone with her out there would tempt him to think of her in ways he knew he shouldn’t think of her. But, as he looked into her sparkling eyes, he found himself unable to bear the thought of disappointing her. He opted for a vague, noncommittal answer.

  “I’m pretty busy right now, so I probably can’t anytime soon. But I can give you directions to some good spots.”

  Christine narrowed her eyes at him and then looked around the empty shop. “You’re busy?” she said, her tone accusing.

  “I have some other stuff I’m working on at home,” Neal said, going back to working on the tattoo and refusing to look up and meet Christine’s eyes again. She sighed loudly, but didn’t say anything else for several minutes. Just when Neal thought she had given up on talking to him altogether, she spoke again, her voice holding no trace of annoyance or sarcasm. She seemed determined to not let his aloof attitude bother her.

  “So, have you been in Glacier Point your whole life?” she asked.

  “No, actually. I’ve lived in the Arctic my whole life, but I’ve only been here for a little under two years.”

  “How’d you end up here, then?”

  Neal grimaced. She asked a lot of questions. Questions that, in all fairness, were just normal small talk for most new acquaintances. But for him, they were questions he couldn’t answer directly. He couldn’t exactly tell her that his clan of bear shifters had been forced from their old town by humans who discovered their existence and started an all out bear hunt. Or that after his clan had been almost wiped out entirely in a poisoning attack by a rival clan, he had decided to settle in the first decent town he came across.

  Neal looked up at her again, and shrugged. “I just needed a place to start over,” he said. Then he went back to concentrating on his work. He finished up the tattoo and gave her instructions for caring for it, then declined to share any of the food or wine she had brought. He tried to beg off as politely as he could, making up some excuse about how he was too exhausted to do anything right now except head straight home. But the hurt look in her eyes made it clear that she knew she was being brushed off.

  She thanked him for his good work on the tattoo and grabbed the picnic basket, walking stiffly through the front door. She left the bottle of half-drunk wine sitting on the front counter. Neal eyed it sadly and went to get a paper cup from the water cooler. He poured a generous helping of wine into the cup, and slowly started to sip the deep red liquid.

  His bear struggled within him, demanding to be heard. But Neal refused to listen. It had taken less than an hour of sitting next to Christine, holding her hand while he tattooed it, for him to realize that he would never be able to keep her in the friend zone. In another lifetime, maybe he could have risked mating with a human. But his clan was too fragile right now for him to risk exposing it to another human. Sure, he had made exceptions for his bears, letting them take human mates. But he was alpha. He needed to hold himself to a higher standard.

  Besides, even if Christine had been a bear shifter, the constant threat of the Blizzards took up all his energy these days. He had been scouting the area with his clan members, trying to find their hideout. He knew they were close, and hiding in a network of underground caverns. His clan member, Alan, had been trapped down there and narrowly escaped with his life. But the Blizzards had abandoned the entrance Alan had escaped from, demolishing it with what appeared to be powerful explosives, so the Northern Lights Clan had to find another entrance to the caverns. So far, the Blizzards had done a good job of keeping the locations of the other entrances hidden, and searching in the middle of the winter wasn’t easy. The Northern Lights bears had to deal with freezing temperatures and a complete lack of daylight. At least the calendar was nearing the end of January, which meant the sun would slowly start returning. Neal and all of his clan members had excellent eyesight, and they used powerful flashlights when they went out scouting. But the darkness still complicated things, and Neal felt antsy. He had put a great deal of pressure on himself to find the Blizzards and end their reign of terror on the Northern Arctic.

  Neal chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip as he poured another serving of wine into the paper cup. Another clan member, Tyler, thought he had seen bear tracks near one of the open tundra spaces they hadn’t yet scouted. Tyler couldn’t tell if they were Blizzard tracks, because they weren’t super fresh and the scent had faded. But as far as Neal knew, there were no other clans in the area at the moment. The tracks could have been from a real bear, but since most real bears were sheltered down for the winter, odds were good that the Northern Lights Clan was closing in on the Blizzards. Neal certainly hoped so. He was ready for this long nightmare to be over, and for his clan to be able to live in peace again.

  Of
course, if Christine had any idea who Neal truly was, and why he was acting so detached, she would probably freak out. Neal couldn’t tell her anything. Humans tended to fear what they didn’t understand, and most humans didn’t understand bear shifters at all. Maybe Christine was one of those rare humans who would accept the fact that shifters existed, but Neal couldn’t take chances right now. As beautiful and friendly as Christine was, she wasn’t worth taking risks. She probably thought he was a jerk, and maybe she was right. But his clan came first, and right now they needed him to be on the top of his game.

  Neal took the last swig of wine from his paper cup, then crumpled it in one hand before tossing it into the wastebasket and heading for the door.

  He hopped onto his snowmobile and sped off into the dark night, ignoring the insistent roaring of the bear within him.

  Chapter Three

  Christine held up her wrist in the harsh light of the warehouse. Jill furrowed her brow as she inspected the North Star now permanently etched onto Christine’s skin.

  “I have to say, I was a little skeptical when you showed me that drawing that anyone would be able to replicate it in tattoo form. But Neal did a pretty kickass job of it. It looks fantastic.”

  “Thanks. I’m pretty stoked about it. I’ve been dreaming about doing this for so long, and now I have a fun story to tell when people ask me about it. Getting my North Star tattoo while I’m way up North in Alaska is a nice touch, if you ask me.”

  Jill nodded and laughed, then dissolved into a fit of coughing.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Christine asked. “You’ve been coughing an awful lot today.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just caught some sort of cold bug, I guess. My throat’s killing me.”

  “Why don’t you take a day off? You’ve been working like a maniac. You need to rest every now and then, too.”

  Jill frowned. “Easy for you to say, since you’re planning to leave the firm. I, on the other hand, have to impress my managing partner with how many billable hours I work.”