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Flemming
Since they had another full day to wait for his truck to be repaired, Flemming agreed to visit the bear place with Seth the next day to pass the time. They booked an eleven o’clock tour, so they had plenty of time to have a sit-down breakfast at a local restaurant before the bears. She ordered the French toast—challah bread sprinkled with strawberries and blueberries, dusted with the lightest whiff of powdered sugar before being drizzled with the most lovely lavender-infused honey—and blood orange juice. He had a veggie hash and coffee. With their bellies full, they headed back to the house to get ready before the tour—mostly because Seth wanted to grab a shower and shave.
Their rental house came with two bathrooms, so she didn’t worry as she spent extra minutes trying to cover the persistent rash from her unfortunate spell experiment. As she carefully dotted concealer around her face and décolletage, her mind wandered. She knew she shouldn’t compare them, but her heart didn’t care about what she should or shouldn’t do—it compared Seth to Leo.
She planned the first date with Leo, spending days poring over websites before deciding on what would be the most fun for their limited time together. She chose the art museum because it wasn’t stationary, like food right off the bat would be, and it wasn’t too noisy, like a concert would be, so they’d have plenty of time and opportunities to talk. And they did talk—with him effusive in his compliments. It went so well, in fact, it drove him to his knees an hour less than a week later, proposing to spend the rest of their lives together.
She remembered thinking at the time that he came on a little hard. Conversely, Seth seemed more interested in hearing what she had to say about things instead of just telling her how amazing she was in every single way.
Wiping her fingers off on a towel, she then snagged her phone and typed in “man proposes very early on in the relationship narcissist.” It wasn’t like the internet will possibly confirm—
There it is, in simple black and white. Lovebombing, they called it. It was a manipulation, an isolation tactic. In a narcissistic relationship, the narcissist would give their prey whatever they wanted or needed the most to make them feel as if they owed their predator something.
In some cases, that meant things—over the top gifts or gestures. In others, if the prey were particularly needy of verbal approval, it meant the narcissist gave the person words.
“Well, that’s stupid,” Flemming said. “Who would fall for something like that?”
She thought about what Leo gave her in the beginning of the relationship—a promise of happiness and togetherness, a home of sorts. A literal home, because he wanted her to move in with him from the very start. He swore they’d be happy, something her mother would only happen if she rode a set path, and thereby offered her a different option.
Which she wanted so badly at the time.
He told her she was pretty, smart, funny. He said all the things her ego needed to hear and she’d lapped it up like a fool.
Not that Seth and Leo had the same goal, which could also explain the difference in their behaviors. Even she saw the vacillation in that thought, but she entertained it anyway. Leo wanted to date her; Seth just got stuck with her because their parents wanted them to hook up. He wasn’t even there by his own choice.
A gentle knock had her startling out of her reverie.
“Hey, you about ready?” Seth asked through the door.
She opened it, pleased when his face was only inches from hers for a few breathless seconds. She wasn’t sure why she kept testing the water with him, but maybe it was because of the delicious sizzle every time she dipped in a toe.
“Ready,” she said, pleased when he swallowed as his eyes scanned her face. She told herself the way he licked his lips was because he found her attractive...
Mostly because she didn’t want to think about the rash and how silly she likely looked.
Her experience with bears, arguably, wasn’t entirely zero. Growing up in the mountains of West Virginia, it wasn’t unheard of to hear tell about how a neighbor had an American Black Bear tumble into their backyard. She even knew a witch who kept a bear for a familiar, so the general idea of them didn’t freak her out.
Touring the reserve, a sanctuary dedicated to rescue and education about grizzly bears, Flemming listened as the guide explained how, despite their desire to return the beautiful animals to their native habitats, a bear who has been fed by people will return to people for food and teach their cubs to do so as well, thereby making their release impossible. Not that the bears they saw at the nature reserve seemed to mind their captivity overmuch. One lay on its back in the water, splashing around like a toddler in a kiddie pond. It was easy, while watching them bumbling around inside their nature filled enclosures, to see them as nothing more than fuzzy sweeties with boopable noses.
Flemming saw through the façade. She didn’t miss the powerful claws at the end of their furry widdle arms.
Wandering away from the group, she stared at another bear—this one investigating a cardboard box—while she thought about bears. Why could she so easily see through their adorable illusion, yet she fell hook, line, and sinker for Leo’s apparent manipulation?
“I want more grapes,” the bear said, as she continued to stare at it.
For a couple of solid seconds, Flemming just blinked.
“Grapes,” the bear repeated helpfully with a cheerful flick of one ear. “Sweet, juicy, explode in your mouth like bursts of sunshine kind of things? You’ve heard of em?”
“Did you just talk to me?” she asked the bear, before questioning her own sanity for hallucinating a talking bear.
“Yes,” the bear said. “I forgot introductions. Sorry, not many to talk to around here lately. Hello, spicy human, they call me Lucy. There, now that we have that out of the way—”
“I’m talking to a bear,” Flemming said, touching her own forehead as if to verify it, and thereby her brain, were still there. “Wait, what do you mean by spicy human?”
The bear sniffed, making its nostrils wiggle in the cutest way possible. Flemming’s face crumpled into full aw-expression, but she said nothing.
“Magic? Is that what the humans call it? Whatever it is, it makes you smell a bit spicy.”
Flemming smiled to herself. She’d never thought about witches as spicy humans, but she didn’t mind the comparison. “Okay, so you want more grapes?”
“Yes, please.” The bear let out a little roar of sound, spraying spittle and showing off dangerous looking fangs. “I keep trying to tell them, but no one can hear me anymore.”
The bear pawed at the box, and instead of crumpling under the weight of the enormous murder mitt, the impressive claw passed through the object as if it wasn’t tangible. Flemming blinked, first at the box, then at the bear, then at the box again.
“This day just got way more weird.”
Just then, Seth rejoined her from his short trip to the restrooms. “Hey, did I miss anything? Looks like the group is over there.” He gestured in that direction, a single hand resting gently at her waist, before noticing the direction of Flemming’s gaze. “Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
“It is a ghost bear,” Flemming said and pointed.
***
SETH TOOK THE NEWS of a ghost bear remarkably well, although he couldn’t see or hear Lucy at all. Flemming pulled him aside, hopefully out of earshot of the bear. “We can’t just leave the ghost bear trapped in an enclosure. We have to do something.”
He nodded, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear absently while he considered that. Finally, he said, “What do you want to do about the ghost bear only you can see? Like, other than ask them to put out more grapes for it to apparently not be able to eat.”
Flemming scowled at him. “I can’t just leave her. She should be, I don’t know...in the wild or something. We should rescue her. From the rescue. I know that probably sounds crazy.”
“Yes, it sounds crazy.” Seth seemed to try to see logic in her request, but then he shook his head. “Weren’t you paying attention to the guide? Once a bear has been exposed to humans, they can’t be released into the wild.”
Flemming’s eyes rolled so hard, she nearly strained a muscle. “It is a ghost. How much harm can it do?”
“It is a ghost bear,” Seth pointed out. “I’m not sure we want to find out the answer to that question.”
Leo would have blindly agreed with her. The realization struck her like a slap, and she reeled back at the impact. She didn’t have time to read too deeply into the lovebombing thing, but she wondered if part of the manipulation in her case had been having someone—anyone—just do what she asked without questioning her.
She never realized before it was something she wanted and recognizing the weakness didn’t do a lot for her ego.
His fingertips in hers as he caught her hand recaptured her attention. “Hey,” he said. “Looked like you were going a dark place again, so I figured I should remind you that you’re not alone.”
She squeezed his fingers with her own. “Thanks. I can’t leave her, though.”
He sighed. “Can’t you just tell her to, I don’t know, go into the light or something?”
Flemming snapped her fingers, grinning up at him. “That’s it! We’ll call Savannah!”
“Does this Savannah person know how to make bears go into the light?” Seth asked.
With a shrug, Flemming said, “If anyone would know, my money is on Savannah.”
With a cloud of sparkling, cotton candy scented air, a witch appeared in front of them. “Where...are we?” Savannah asked, peering around her in confusion. “And why does it smell like kombucha?”
“That’s the bear scat,” Flemming explained. “Most of the bears waste smells horrible, but if they’re eating primarily fruits and veggies, it can smell fermented.”
“Fascinating. And when did you learn so much about bear doodles?” Savannah asked, looking a little impressed.
“Today,” Flemming replied. “But I can tell you about that later. Right now, we have a problem.”
She led Savannah to Lucy’s enclosure. Well, it wasn’t Lucy’s enclosure anymore, but it was where the bear chose to hang out, apparently, since she still sat considering the same cardboard box.
“Hey,” Flemming said. “I brought an expert in to try to help you.”
“Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to know that there is a box, and you can see the box, but you cannot, no matter how hard you try, open the box? If no one else opens it, you’ll never know what’s in there,” the bear lamented. She glanced around at the other bears in the enclosure. “None of them have even noticed it. Don’t they realize the humans sometimes leave stuff like this for us to find with goodies inside?”
“That does sound frustrating,” Flemming agreed, glancing at Savannah. “Can you see her?”
“The bear with the box?” Savannah asked.
“Yeah, that one.”
“How is it a ghost?” Savannah replied. “It makes no sense. Isn’t there some kind of rule about unfinished business makes souls into ghosts or something? I remember reading it, I know I did...”
“Have you met other ghost animals?” Flemming asked.
Before Savannah could answer, a door at the back of the enclosure slid open because one of the bears wanted to leave. When the door opened, however, a golden retriever bounded into the enclosure and sped to Lucy the ghost bear’s side.
People gasped and the employees of the reserve clearly scrambled around, concocting an on the spot plan to get the dog back out of the enclosure. Flemming stood in between Savannah and Seth, watching the chaos. “The dog can totally see Ghost Bear,” Savannah said, pointing. “Look, they’re touching noses.”
“This is my friend,” Lucy explained. “I have to make sure he’s safe.”
Seth tugged on Flemming’s sleeve. “Unfinished business!”
“Unfinished business?” Flemming repeated.
“Are you worried about the dog?” Savannah asked the bear after considering them both for a few seconds.
“Vice Admiral has been a good friend,” the bear said.
“If I take the dog, do you know how to move on?” Savannah clarified.
The bear looked as sad as a bear can look. “I guess. Perhaps I’ll find more grapes there?”
“Tell your friend to come to me,” Savannah said. “I’ll take good care of him.”
After another gentle nose boop, the dog fled back through the doorway where frantic workers happily closed the enclosure behind him. After only a few moments, a couple of loud clangs and crashes, and what sounded like a scuffle, the golden retriever bounded out to slam to a stop at their feet.
Savannah immediately knelt and hugged the dog. “You’ll have to explain the red-haired hottie later. Toodles!” With those words, Savannah and the dog vanished.
The ghost bear sighed. “Thank you for seeing that my friend will be safe,” the bear said.
“No problem,” Flemming said. In seconds, the image of the bear dissipated to nothing more than a stray sparkle of reflected dust in the sunshine.
***
THE WALK BACK TO THEIR rental house passed in quiet consideration. She didn’t know what Seth thought about, but she remembered the bear’s words.
She stumbled, then smiled up at Seth when he reached out to steady her. Was it weird to be walking with the one man she’d sworn to never enjoy after talking to a ghost bear?
Yeah, but if she focused on the weird and not the important parts, she’d be utterly flustered, so she chose to focus on the things she could control.
“You’ve been a good friend,” Flemming blurted.
Seth glanced at her with a curious smile curving his delicious lips. “I guess it is weird to say it, having only spent a couple of days together, but yeah, I consider you a friend, too, Flemming. Never thought I’d say that.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks as pleasure sizzled down her spine. He considers me a friend, too, she thought blissfully.
Then she thought about his closing line. Never thought I’d say that, he’d said.
He meant because of their mothers’ campaign for them to be together, she knew. It wasn’t something he’d said to make her feel bad.
Although she resisted her parent deciding the rest of her life, and therefore refused to make their dreams come true by marrying the man, she still found herself a little irked that he sounded so shocked that he’d consider her a friend.
“I annoyed you,” Seth said, as usual managing to read her face. “What did I do?”
“How do you always notice what I’m feeling based on my face? Nobody ever reads me like that.” She wasn’t sure if his ability pleased her or annoyed her, honestly.
Seth shrugged. “Because I’m paying attention. And, due to that, I’m also noticing that you haven’t answered, and instead tried to distract me.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed. She smiled, too. Damn the man for being so irresistible. “You didn’t annoy me,” she admitted. “I just got a little butthurt because you sounded as if you thought being my friend might be a fate worse than death.”
He raised a brow at her. “I don’t have a problem with you. If I’m being entirely honest, I like you. That honesty means I have to admit I don’t want to marry you, because it would make my mother too happy. In the spirit of honesty, though, I’d also confess, if I met you under other circumstances, we’d probably be friends, at the very least.”
“At the most?” she teased.
“Lovers,” he answered softly, but without any hesitation.
The pulse of lust caught her by the throat and had her stumbling again.
“Careful,” he said, yet again steadying her, but he said the word in a deep and growly voice very close to her ear. He knew what he was doing, she knew it. He intentionally flirted, no mistaking that.
Her eyes closed and she licked and bit her lip as the pulse of lust turned into a pleasing burn. It was good to feel the motor, so to speak, rev again, especially after...
“We never slept together,” she blurted.
This time, it was Seth who stumbled and nearly wiped out on the driveway of their rental. With a giggle, Flemming caught his arm and steadied him. “Careful,” she purred, gazing at him through her lashes in a clearly flirtatious move.
What are you doing? her brain screamed. This is Seth Taradiddle, the man your mother shoved down your throat since before you were old enough to date. You cannot flirt with him, of all people, and you can’t flirt with anyone a couple of days after being dumped so viciously.
But she could, and although she felt awkward in the role of seductress, it felt good to flex the muscles of her femininity again. It felt, if she were honest, a bit like a triumph over the role she let Leo shove her into.
“Beg your pardon?” Seth asked.
“Leo—he and I never slept together,” she explained. “He said we should wait until marriage.”
Seth leaned closer, catching her elbows in his hands. His skin felt hot against hers, and the little burn of lust again shivered to life. “You’re telling me you were engaged to him for, what?”
“Couple of years,” she admitted.
“You got engaged to him on the first date. You moved across the country to be with him. Did you sleep in the same bed?” he asked, looking genuinely baffled.
She nodded. “For more than a year.”
“And he never...” Again, Seth’s gaze roamed over her, and despite the rash, she could tell he liked what he saw. He shook his head. “Like, how?”
“I want to do it again,” she said quickly, while the boost she felt in her confidence remained.
“Date a man like that?” Seth asked, gently stroking his hands up and down her arms in an unconscious comforting gesture. “You deserve better, honey.”
“No,” she said, catching his shirt in her hand and leaning closer so their noses nearly touched. “I want to do it again. I want to have wild and passionate sex with a man who makes me feel beautiful.”
Seth swallowed, leaning toward her as if enchanted. At the last moment, he stopped himself. “A traumatized brain is not fit to consent.”
She smiled. He amused her in so many different ways. “Consent is about communication. I’m fully in control of my emotions and my mind, so any consent I give is freely given from a sane and rational adult.”
He couldn’t debate her words, because he didn’t say anything, but the stern line between his drawn down brows didn’t smooth.
“You’re still worried, which I find wildly endearing, but you haven’t answered the other important part of that question,” she teased.
His head tilted slightly, but he didn’t move away from her. In fact, he stepped a bit closer. “Whether or not you’re in a mental state to give consent freely is the important part, according to my moral code.”
“But it isn’t,” she disagreed, stroking her nose up his cheek and inhaling his scent. The combination of mint, something citrusy, and apple struck her as so masculine, so delicious, she rubbed her cheek against his. “The important part of the question is whether or not you’d be interested in me sexually?”