Page 13 of Bear’s True Mate

My fingers flew across the keyboard as I typed. This time what came across the page was that he was built like a man who works with his hands for a living. Broad shoulders, a slight scruff along his jaw. Dark hair that fell across his forehead.

My fingers stopped again.

“Damn it,” I whispered.

I knew exactly where the descriptions had come from—the man weed eating in the backyard twenty minutes ago, shirtless and glistening in sweat, ruining my word count, and apparently my ability to write a fictional man who didn’t look exactly like him.

I closed my laptop.

This was not happening. I was not developing a thing for the loud, obnoxious man on the other side of the wall. I was here to write an amazing book for my readers. I was here to heal. I was here to prove that I could leave Evan for real this time.

Nolan Bridges was not about to derail all of that with his perfect abs and handsome good looks.

I made my way into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of red wine I’d brought with me to celebrate with once I was finished writing my story. I poured a glass. Took a sip that was closer to a gulp. Then I headed for the back porch to watch the sunset.

The evening air was thick against my skin when I stepped outside. The ocean stretched out in front of me, the last light of the day turning the water from blue to something darker and deeper in color. I settled into a chair and pulled my knees up before taking another sip from my wine. It was cheap and a little too sweet, but it did its job. The pressure that had been building when I thought of my readers’ expectations had loosened some, and I began to reframe the whole situation in my head.

My readers trusted me based on past books to deliver a story they loved. That meant something. They had faith in me. They believed I could pull this off and that this book would be better than the previous. That all meant something too.

From Nolan’s side of the duplex, I heard a cabinet door slam shut. I took another sip of wine. My gaze remained focused on the sunset, but my mind had dipped back to thoughts of a shirtless Nolan weed eating the yard.

Epic fail.

6

NOLAN

She’d been watching me.

I’d caught her staring at me through the window about three minutes into weed eating. She must have been sitting at Alister’s desk, writing. Her eyes were locked on me like she couldn’t decide whether to yell at me for the noise or keep staring.

She’d chosen to keep staring.

For the record, I’d waited until evening to do the yard. Not because of her, but because it was cooler out. That was the reason. That was the only reason. Apparently, she’d still been writing, and now I was the jerk making too much noise again.

Not that she seemed to mind the view.

And yeah, maybe I’d been shirtless, and maybe I’d flexed a little harder on a few of those passes when I knew she was looking. My bear had rumbled smugly inside me, the bastard.

I was annoyed at him.

Annoyed at myself, too.

This woman had been here days, and I was already flexing for her like an idiot. She didn’t even like me. Every conversation we’d had so far had ended with one of us walking away mad.

Even so, she’d been watching me weed eat, and my bear wasn’t about to let me forget it.

After I put the weed eater away and took a quick shower to wash the grass and sweat off, I grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and headed out to the back porch. Watching the sunset from out there was the one part of my daily routine I never skipped, no matter what kind of day it had been. The view from the back of the duplex faced straight over the water, and most evenings the sky put on a show that made everything else—bad clients, sore muscles, annoying neighbors—feel small.

Rose was out there.

She was in the porch chair on her side, knees pulled up to her chest with a glass of wine in hand. She didn’t look up when I came out, but her posture shifted. I noticed her shoulders tense and her chin dipped slightly.

I dropped into my chair and stretched my legs out in front of me before taking a swig from my beer.

“Evening,” I said.

She glanced over at me, then back at the water. “You’re sitting out here?”