Page 41 of Trusting Her Bear

Chapter Nine

Stephanie

Ihop from one foot to the other, my fingers tangled together in the bathroom, looking at the two choices of pajamas I brought in with me. One set is my regular flannel that covers me from neck to feet, or the flannel nightgown that hits my knees. Why is it so hard to decide?

Last night, being covered by Quinn gave me comfort, and by morning I was sweating. I doubt I need the first choice, but the routine of wearing them is hard to break.

I had fun at dinner, but I don’t think Quinn did. He didn’t say much, and I didn’t either. It’s hard to get a word in with that group, but I enjoyed their chatter. I didn’t like knowing he was uneasy. As bears, we are naturally solitary. We aren’t big conversationalists in group settings. I kept my hand on his thigh most of the meal, attempting to calm him. It was the first time I initiated contact without his prompting, and it felt good. Just like everything else, he didn’t make a big deal out of it, even though it was for me.

As much as I like his friends and being with Breeane again, it was a relief to escape back to my apartment. The silence is a blessing.

Quinn had already used the bathroom, and I found him a clean toothbrush. Now he’s waiting in my bedroom, and deciding on pajamas is taking too long. I’m worrying about sleeping in the bed. I doubt Quinn will want to make a bed in the closet again, and he shouldn’t have to. I know the bed would be more comfortable.

I crave being close to him. My brain may be a jumbled mess, filled with fears and insecurities, but I know I need to sleep next to him. Smell his manly scent. Feel his big body covering me, keeping me safe.

I didn’t have to worry about the locks tonight, knowing he was here, and he made sure they were engaged. I already have more faith in him than I thought possible. I know it will keep growing the more time I spend with him.

I roll my eyes at myself, grab the nightgown, and quickly slip it over my head. Once the decision is made, the knot in my stomach unravels. I run through the list of my actions since I came in here. The habit will be difficult to break, and I’m not going to try yet.

I open the door, turn off the light, and look at the bed. No Quinn. I frown, and movement in the closet spreads warmth to my battered heart.

“Come, Little Cub,” he says from the closet. I move quickly to him. He’s so fucking good. “I found more blankets in the closet.” He pulls them back on my side so I can drop to my knees and crawl inside.

He flicks them over me when I settle on my back. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” he replies.

I glance over and see he is shirtless; the blankets pushed down to his jean-covered hips. I bite my lip. He can’t be comfortable. I look at his profile.

“Are you comfortable?” I ask, not able to hold the question back.

“Yes. Why?” He turns to meet my gaze.

I look down and back up. “You're wearing jeans.”

“I’m fine,” he says softly.

I suck my lip in my mouth, unsure if I should go on. “You could take them off,” I suggest. “Wear your boxers.”

“I could if I was wearing any,” he says with a slight grin.

“Oh,” I mumble and then gasp when he reaches over, pulling my lip.

“Don’t do that.”

“Okay,” I say quickly.

I look anywhere but at him. He’s just so fucking handsome. I love his short beard. I like the way it feels when he kisses me. His eyes are hypnotic, not only the unusual color differences, but he sees every emotion and doubt. I haven’t gotten to touch him, and I want to badly. The heat is amping up again, but it’s also because he’s a beautiful man. My hands itch to run over his massive chest. He’s given me so much pleasure, and I want to give him some.

I’ve never been the take-charge kind of girl in a relationship. I like following my partner's lead. It’s natural. It doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want or make me less of an independent woman. I realize I have gravitated to men with the confidence and leadership energy. I just haven’t found one who I want to follow for the long term. Now, the universe gave me a man who is everything I have wished for. I don’t have to know everything about him to know he is the perfect match for me.

“Little Cub,” Quinn hums.

“Huh?” I blink and turn my head. He pushes the covers off him completely, drops back down, and laces his hands behind his head.

“Explore,” he says.

“What?” Did the man crawl into my brain?