Free Gray Back Broken Bear (Gray Back Bears Book 4) by T. S. Joyce

enough dead trees. They have to be dead a long time so the heavy green middles dry out and turn white. Those are the ones that burn the best. I can charge more if I split it for them and deliver it to their cabins.”
    “I thought you worked up in the mountains as a lumberjack.”
    “That’s one of my jobs. I have three. My animal does best if I stay busy. He’s still wild as shit, but a busy mind makes him manageable. Kind of.”
    “Jason helps you now?”
    “He’s my friend. We went in as partners this past fall. I had a lot of wood to unload, we needed to sell closer to town, and I can’t talk to people. I can’t. Jason’s good. He talks. I chop.”
    “I like Jason. It’s a good business you two are doing.”
    He stroked his finger up and down her leg, watching the chills that washed up her soft skin in waves. “Logging is seasonal, so we all work different jobs during fire-season.”
    “What else do you like to do?”
    “Kiss you.” He tossed her a sideways glance and slid out from under her legs. If he kissed her here in his den where she was spreading around her sexy scent—pheromones and vanilla—he would want more. Ana was fragile. Ana couldn’t bed a man like him. Easton stood and held out his hand, palm up. “Do you want to see what else I like to do?”
    Her lips parted slightly, and she blinked slowly as she slid her palm against his and nodded. He liked that he had such an effect on her. She smelled so fucking good he wanted to bury his face between her legs, but he wouldn’t. He liked Ana. He wanted to keep her, not scare her.
    She was wearing a thin, soft, black blouse, and the gooseflesh he’d conjured so easily on her legs bothered him, so he pulled his heavy canvas jacket off the coat rack by the front door. He draped it over her shoulders before he led her out the front door. It was lined with wool and would keep her warm.
    He gave a private smile when he heard her sniff the jacket. Little human knew how to use some of her senses at least.
    “Easton?” Ana asked. Her voice sounded odd as she tugged his hand. The porch light illuminated her troubled eyes, so he drew up closer. Perhaps she was still cold. Or hungry or thirsty or tired or sick. She didn’t smell sick. He didn’t really know how to take care of humans.
    “I want to tell you something.” Ana searched his eyes as she snuggled deeper into his jacket.
    “Okay.” This sounded bad. He was always ready for bad, though.
    She didn’t answer for a long time. Instead, some of the fear smell came back, and she couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. At last, she smiled faintly and whispered, “Thank you for the jacket.”
    That wasn’t what she’d meant to say. It wouldn’t have been so hard for her to thank him. He forgot manners all the time, but Ana wasn’t like him. She was socialized. Or civilized. But there were a million things he wasn’t ready to tell her, too, so he wouldn’t push. That wouldn’t be fair. “It’s okay if you have secrets.”
    Her big blue eyes were rimming with tears. She nodded slowly as her chin quivered from where she was trying to keep her emotions bottled up.
    “Soft and full of tears,” he murmured as he thumbed away the first drop that fell from her eye to her cheek.
    “Do you have secrets, Easton?”
    “Infinite secrets.” More secrets than stars in the sky.
    “If you ever want to tell me, I’ll help you keep them.”
    Easton made a ticking sound behind his teeth and eased away from her. Danger. Scritch scratch. Secrets and memories were the same. They belonged to the dark. He was strong enough to hold them, but Ana was too fragile to shoulder his broken pieces. He would spare her the pain because he liked her. He was the avalanche, and she the hummingbird, and the only real gift he could give her was to not crash down upon her and crush her into oblivion.
    “Come,” he murmured, pulling her toward his workshop. This place was as sacred as his den, but he wanted to share