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Bearly Icy

Page 7

by Loni Ree

“Don’t get an attitude with me, young man.” Fuck. I feel like a ten-year-old all over again. “I’ll let you go, but I expect a call from you tomorrow. And I want you to bring your mate to dinner at our house once you get your relationship squared away.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Glancing at the clock, I will it to move faster, but the fucker ignores my commands. I mutter a few choice curses under my breath as I pace my living room, impatiently waiting for her.

When I hear the sound of tires crunching on gravel outside, my heart kicks up a beat. There’s a light knock and I swing the door open to find my mate standing on my doorstep wrapped in a long-quilted coat.

She steps in and slips the coat from her shoulders. I hang it up on the coat rack before turning back to her. She looks effortlessly stunning in a fitted light pink sweater and black yoga pants. The outfit clings to her curves in a way that makes my fucking brain short-circuit as I drink in the sight of her.

“Hey,” she greets, a touch of uncertainty in her voice. “I hope my outfit is okay. I haven’t really finished unpacking yet, so I’m stuck with what I have.”

I run my gaze up and down her body, relishing the way her cheeks flush slightly under my scrutiny. “You’d look fucking gorgeous wearing a potato sack.”

Louisa smiles, and the way her presence instantly lights up the room hits me like a freight train. As I step aside and usher her inside, the air crackles with the chemistry flowing between us.

“Welcome to my den,” I say, leaning against the doorframe with what I hope is my most disarming grin.

She laughs lightly, and it’s music to my ears. “It’s awesome! Cozy, rugged… not at all what I was expecting,” she replies, her gaze holding mine.

Staring down into her eyes, I can’t resist the impulse any longer. It’s like a magnetic pull draws me in closer until I’m kissing her soft lips and losing myself in the moment. The world around us fades away, and all I can focus on is Louisa and the way she melts against me. Her thoughts on my house, the dinner plans, everything slips from my mind. It’s all about showing her how much she means to me and how deep this connection runs.

As I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers, savoring the closeness. “What were you expecting, sweetheart?” I ask, my voice low and teasing.

“A bachelor pad,” she replies, stepping back and scanning my living room, her expression morphing from surprise to genuine admiration. “But this is beautiful. I love the way you decorated it.”

“I can’t take all the credit for the decor,” I say, leaning casually against the counter, trying to project that charming nonchalance I do so well. “My mother and sister are the ones who went all out.” They’ve lined the walls with framed wildlife photos that encapsulate the wild spirit of Glacier Pass and even hung up a couple of vintage snowshoes behind my sofa—adding an oddly fitting old-school flair that gives the place character.

The exposed wood beams running along the ceiling give the open floor plan a rugged charm that I really dig. It’s cozy, inviting—a perfect reflection of who I am and everything I hold dear. I glance around, feeling a swell of pride for what I’ve created despite the chaos of my life. The slightly worn but comfortable brown leather couch across from the fireplace is exactly where I can picture chilling out after a long day or curling up with someone special, and I can’t shake the urge to have Louisa with me.

“Sister?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder, and I catch the way her lip bites down just slightly, a playful gesture that makes my heart twist. “Are there any more Bearlys around?”

“There are four of us,” I respond, allowing an arrogant smirk to creep onto my lips. “I’m the oldest and unquestionably the best looking.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes the way only she can, and it’s a sound that tumbles through my chest like music. If I could bottle that laughter, I’d be rich. “Oh, really? You?”

“Damn right,” I continue, leaning back as if I’m straight-up royalty. “Then comes Grant. He’s almost as good looking as me.”

Louisa snorts at that, amusement lighting her features, and I relish in it. “And let’s not forget about my sister Gianna—she’s like an explosion of energy and sass. Finally, we have Dillon, the youngest and the biggest pain in the ass.”

“Wow,” she blows out, her eyes wide as she processes this. “Your parents must’ve been really busy with four rambunctious polar bear shifters running around the house.”

“Actually, there are three polar bear shifters and one grizzly shifter.” I want her to know everything about my family.

She blinks several times. “How did that happen?”

“Our family is a mixed shifter family. When my dad, a grizzly shifter from Honey Pot Hollow, came to town years ago for work, he met our polar bear shifter mother and fell head over heels. Or in shifter talk, his inner bear roared “mine” and it was a done deal. Since polar bear DNA is stronger than grizzly DNA, there’s a greater chance of having polar bear cubs. My parents ended up with three male polar bear cubs and one female grizzly cub.”

Her mouth falls open and I can see the wheels turning in her mind as she absorbs the information. “Oh. I had no idea that could happen.” She smiles at me. “I can see I have a lot to learn about shifters.”

I stroll over and wrap my arm around her shoulders, feeling that familiar surge of warmth flood through me. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” I give my eyebrows a playful wiggle, and she can’t help but chuckle, a sound that sends a flush of happiness through my soul.

With a teasing grin, I stare down into her eyes, “Now, tell me about your family.” I want to know everything about my mate.

She shrugs, a hint of uncertainty flashing across her features. “There isn’t much to tell. Just me and my plain, boring, human parents.”

“There isn’t anything plain or boring about you, sweetheart,” I respond in all seriousness. The urge to pull her closer, to bridge any distance between us, takes over, and I lean in, pressing a soft kiss against her lips. It’s a gentle but electric spark that ignites something deep inside me.

When I pull back, I can’t help but smirk at the way her eyes dance with surprise and delight, and it lights me up even more.