Either fucking way…
From the moment our eyes met, all thatI don’t care if we find a mate or notshit was done.
Ours!!!
My bear roared inside me, even as I stood there, frozen, while the woman I already knew would become our wife walked toward me in what felt like slow motion.
She had long, curly hair and skin just a smidge darker than the local wildflower honey Cody insisted on using exclusively,even though it cost five times what we could get wholesale from Barrington’s.
She wasn’t just pretty. She was the prettiest little thing that had ever walked the Earth. And she wore a Tegan and Sara portrait tee under her yellow cardigan.
Suddenly, I remembered life before JTBF.
Hating my brother’s stupid vintage hair metal obsession… Drowning it out with angsty indie artists like Feist, Bright Eyes, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs—and my favorite duo of all time, Tegan and her identical twin Sara. They always seemed to understand heartbreak and relationship doom in a way I never could.
That not-afraid-to-feel boy had disappeared by my third black-ops mission.
But somehow he was back now, staring open-mouthed at the human who smelled like honey.
“Hi,” she said, like she was just a normal person walking in off the street. “I’m Lark. Lark Bird.”
I stared at her. I couldn’t stop.
“I think Sarah Baerlow said she’d leave a note for you about possibly getting me a room? Please…?”
She trailed off and averted her eyes. Probably because I was ogling her like a fucking creep who’d never seen a woman before.
But that’s what it felt like.
Like I’d been blind to every other female. Like I hadn’t seen a single curve, or a pair of full lips, or big, brown doe eyes behind glasses… until this perfect woman walked through the door.
My head suddenly snapped up.New scents!
On the other side of the lobby, a few lodgers were heading toward the exterior doors. My fists clenched at my sides when I saw it was a group of guys. Probably in their early twenties. The Christmas Festival had gained a reputation as wholesome fun for families—and a hookup fest for everybody else.
Probably because there was absolutely nothing to do in Bear Mountain at night but drink at the town’s only bar, unless you wanted to get eaten alive by mosquitoes after dusk.
The guys were probably headed to the bar. Not a threat to our mate.
But I stayed on alert until they were fully out the door. Protecting Lark—that was my job now. And I wouldn’t let myself fuck it up.
“I’m not sure how to address the fact that you’re not answering me,” our mate mumbled, bringing my attention back to her. “But I don’t want to assume anything. Is… everything alright?”
A wary look had entered her expression. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want her to be scared of me.
The hard-on I hadn’t experienced in years throbbed as I scrambled to put on my Callum mask.
“Hey, sorry,” I said, like he would if he’d been called out. “Let me check on that room.”
And by check, I meant grab the long-winded Post-it Sarah had left about needing a room for the guest who’d done Wabby a solid… and toss it where it belonged.
In the waste can. I would have swallowed it if she wasn’t watching.
I wanted to swallow the paper to risk her ever finding out. But I wanted to swallow her more.
So, instead of letting on that I was a psycho, I clacked on the keyboard and pretended to check on the room.
“Sorry,” I said in my friendly Cal voice. “There’s nothing available. Everybody’s all checked in, and we’re at capacity.”
