Boarlander Cursed Bear (Boarlander Bears Book 5) by T. S. Joyce Read Free Book Online Page B

and you know it. Just because I’m not used to seeing dead animals hanging from a man’s bloody hand first thing in the morning doesn’t make me stupid. Take. It. Back.”
    Clinton curled his lips back, exposing his teeth, and his gaze drifted to the woods. God, if she could ignore the carnage of his “present,” he was beautiful here in the early morning light that filtered through the thick pine canopy and speckled his body in gold. His profile was rigid, angry, and his muscles were tensed, his abs flexing with each heaving breath. His tattoos were dark against his skin, and yep, there were those nipple bars on full display. She’d never seen piercings like that in the small town she’d come from, but they were sooo…Clinton. And sexy. She wanted to bite one.
    “You aren’t stupid,” he gritted out.
    Okay, she was a little surprised that being direct had actually worked. “Good monster. Now dispose of that,” she said, waving her hand in the direction of the coyote, “and then come in for breakfast.”
    “What if I don’t want—”
    “ And then , we’re gonna do something fun because I hate that every encounter with you leaves this uncomfortable pit in my stomach. I’m one foot out the door at this point, and I have one day left here before I go back to my life, so why don’t you shock the shit out of me and show me you aren’t actually the incessant ass-hat you pretend to be.”
    “You cuss a lot. That’s not sexy on a lady.” But the fire in his eyes had dimmed, and the hint of a smile showed through his beard.
    She sighed loudly. “Are you done?”
    He gestured to her jeans. “At least you have actual clothes on today.”
    Alyssa arched her eyebrows and waited for him to wear himself out.
    “And your glasses make you look like a nerd.” He cast her a quick glance, then away again. “Now I’m done.”
    “Great. I’ll start making breakfast and see you when you’re cleaned up.”
    “Great,” he muttered uncharitably, then strode off down the road again, his back muscles flexing with a sexy undulation with every powerful stride away from her.
    Alyssa watched him until he disappeared around a curve behind thick brush. There was a ninety-eight percent chance he would disappear, and she’d be left with a huge breakfast-for-one, but this was his shot to push her away completely or step up. So against her better judgement, Alyssa made her way back to the cabin and started yanking groceries out of the fridge in a big enough quantity to feed a small army or, as the research she’d done online had turned up, one hungry werebear.
    The rumble of a truck sounded against the quiet of the cabin, and mildly shocked that he was actually back, Alyssa brushed aside the earthy green curtains on the window above the kitchen sink. Sure enough, Clinton was getting out of his Raptor, with a wad of yellow fabric clinched in his fist. He searched the ground for something, striding through the wild-grass yard until he apparently found what he wanted. Kneeling down, he picked something up and made his way to the front door. And right before he climbed the trio of stairs in front of the porch, he lifted that animal-bright gaze to where she was spying. With a tiny squeak, Alyssa dropped the curtains.
    She’d felt all brave and bold outside when she was angry with him, but now he was here, and she was really going to make him breakfast. She would actually have to attempt to carry on conversation with him, and right about now, she was feeling completely overwhelmed.
    Up until the point where Clinton rudely barged in and the door banked off the wall hard enough to rattle the small cabin.
    Nerves evaporating, she shook her head and went to cutting open the package of pork sausage. Clinton wouldn’t be sweetened easily, but maybe the way to his grumpy-ass heart was through his belly.
    His boots were ridiculously loud on the wooden floors, and as he entered the small kitchen area, she held her breath against the