Husband Fur Hire (Bears Fur Hire Book 1) by T. S. Joyce

fishing poles.
    When Cole had moved in last year, he’d brought a duffle bag with him. That was it.
    Pleasure unfurled in her stomach as she enjoyed the difference of this time with Ian. He was bringing his get-shit-done belongings, as well as clothes. She could already imagine his ax near the chopping block and his tools in the barn. He was about to imprint himself into this place as surely as his ring was imprinting itself onto her finger.
    With an emotional smile, she pulled the hard case of his chainsaw out of the back and hefted it toward the barn. Wait, what if he got mad at her for touching his stuff? Did men get possessive of their tools? Uncle Jim hadn’t, and she’d never seen Cole lift a hand to help so he wasn’t any indicator on normal male behavior. Josiah hadn’t ever minded her touching his stuff, but he was her brother and the patient sort. Maybe she should rush back and put this where she found it.
    Ian strode from the barn and nodded to her. The corner of his lip lifted, and he said, “Thank you,” as he took the burden from her hands.
    As he sauntered off, Elyse froze there with her empty palms out, then turned and went back for another load. And when the tools were all in the barn and she’d settled the ax blade into the chopping block, she rushed inside to do a speed clean while Ian was still busy in the barn. At least she’d found the energy to wash the dishes this morning, but she hadn’t set foot in the guest bedroom in months. She dusted the dresser, swept the rustic wooden floors, and then replaced the bedding with fresh linens. After angling and re-angling the rocking chair in the corner just so, she turned and let off a yelp as Ian stood right behind her with a quirk to his lips.
    Her heart threatened to leap from behind her breastbone. How was a man so big and powerful so silent when he wanted to be? He stepped around her, so close she could smell his piney, masculine scent and feel warmth radiating off his skin.
    Ian set his trash bag luggage on the bed. “This’ll do. I’ll unpack later, but I think you should eat.”
    She thought about her now empty freezer, and shame, not shyness, heated her cheeks.
    Ian narrowed his eyes and cocked his head suspiciously at her hesitation, then turned and strode out of the house, his heavy boots echoing against the floors. The creaking of the freezer sounded a moment later, and a muttered curse directly followed. And now Ian was back in the mouth of the room, his lips pursed in a thin, angry line. “Woman, what did you plan on eating today if I hadn’t a shown up?”
    She ran her tongue over her teeth, stalling and debating whether to lie or not.
    “The truth,” he demanded, as if he could read her mind.
    “I picked some carrots.”
    “Carrots?” The volume of his voice made her hunch her shoulders to her ears. “Why haven’t you been hunting and fishing?”
    Anger snapped through her like a rubber band popped against her skin. “If you must know, I have been hunting and fishing, but I’m pretty shitty at it, so I haven’t got anything. Yet. And when I’m not out in the woods failing epically at hunting, I’m racing daylight running this place. None of this has been easy on me, you judgmental beast.”
    “Judgmental beast, am I?” His animated eyebrows quirked up. “Fine. Since you have me so pegged, you’re too damned skinny.”
    Elyse let off an offended sound. “Well, you’re too muscular and probably require eighteen thousand calories a day. I do not. I’m not skinny. I’m efficient.”
    “Horseshit. I can see your bones poking out through your shirt, and your stomach’s been growling since I got here.”
    She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest like a shield. His words hurt. There. There it was. Him calling her skinny burned her pride. Oh, she knew she’d lost weight. She was the one who saw herself withering away in the mirror, but Cole had taken all of her damned seed potatoes, bartered them for