Page 8

“Does Clay need a babysitter?” Wilder grumbles. “Last I heard, he’s a grown-ass man. And why don’t you just do it?”

“Look here, asshole, Clay got quite a shock today. I’m pretty sure Mabel’s sister, Bethany, is his mate.” My brother’s indrawn breath tells me he understands the enormity of the situation. “He didn’t take it too well. I just talked to him and he sounded rough. Since you’re closer to him, I thought you might see what you can do.” Clay and Wilder were born eleven months apart and have always behaved like twins.

“Fuck me,” Wilder grumbles. “I’ll check on him tonight when I go check on our parents.”

“Thank you.”

“Both of you assholes owe me.” Wilder blows out his breath. “I’m keeping track of all this shit, and I’m going to call in my favors one day.”

“Fine.” I’d agree to anything right now.

“And I’m not forgetting about your date with a pink polka dot bikini, either.” That doesn’t surprise me in the least.

After I hang up, I pull out my Gramma Bear’s cookbook and get to work planning a dinner worthy of my mate.

The rest of the week moves by at a snail’s pace. Papa Bear is well enough for Momma Bear to return to work on Wednesday, and her first assignment is canceling everything on my schedule for the next two weeks. Optimistically, I’m hoping that’s long enough to woo and mate my sweet girl.

I spend each day from open to close at the bakery, helping Mabel and her sisters. By the end of the week, they’ve built up a steady stream of regulars and see quite a few new customers each day.

My mate begins calling me Bossy Bear when I order the male shifters to hurry along.