“Yep.” Percy pointed to his tongue. “It’s warm, but not fire-breathing dragon warm.”
Isla bent down and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for your expert opinion, Mr. Food Critic.”
“I’m just being honest,” Percy replied with such earnestness that Kirk couldn’t help but smile. “Honesty is important in the kitchen. You always say that.”
“That I do,” Isla agreed, ruffling his hair affectionately.
Kirk chuckled as he watched them. Their easy back-and-forth reminded him of the times he and his brothers had spent in the kitchen while their father cooked.
His bear rumbled contentedly but, for once, had nothing to add. Some moments didn’t need commentary.
Isla continued to taste and adjust, adding a pinch of salt here, a sprig of thyme there. She moved through his kitchen with increasing confidence, no longer hesitating before opening drawers or reaching for utensils.
“Mom, look!” Percy called from the table where he’d arranged his sorted berries into a smiley face pattern. “Berry art!”
Isla laughed, and the sound hit him somewhere deep. “Very creative! Maybe we should serve them just like that.”
“I think we should,” Kirk agreed solemnly. “Food should always make you smile.”
Smooth,his bear approved.Very smooth.
I wasn’t trying to be smooth,Kirk protested.
Sure, you weren’t,his bear teased.You’re just naturally charming.
Or our mate just gets me,Kirk replied.
Percy beamed with pride, carefully transferring his berry creation to a serving plate Kirk handed him. “Can I carry this to the table?”
“Absolutely,” Kirk said, clearing a path for the boy. “That’s the most important job of all.”
Isla gave Kirk a grateful look over Percy’s head, and he understood. She appreciated the way he made her son feel included. It was a small thing to him, natural and instinctive, but it clearly mattered to her.
She’s not used to men being kind to her cub,his bear growled softly.Someone hurt them both.
The thought made a protective fury rise in Kirk’s chest, but he pushed it down. Now wasn’t the time. This moment was about joy, nothing more.
Together, they finished preparing a simple meal of wild mushrooms with herbs and nettles, served over the rice Kirk had quickly cooked, with Percy’s berry creation as a colorful dessert. Kirk poured water for Percy and offered Isla wine, which she accepted with a smile.
“To forest treasures,” Kirk said, raising his glass.
“To forest treasures,” Isla echoed, clinking her glass against his.
“And to berry art!” Percy added, raising his water glass high.
They laughed together as they settled around the table, the afternoon sun slanting golden through the windows. Percy immediately launched into an enthusiastic recounting of everything they’d found in the forest, his hands gesturing expressively as he described each discovery.
“And remember when Kirk showed me how to pick the nettle without getting stung? That was so cool! And the mushrooms that looked like little umbrellas? And the stream with the tiny fish?”
Isla smiled at her son’s excitement, occasionally meeting Kirk’s eyes over the table with a look that seemed to say,See what you’ve done?
We did that,his bear said proudly.We made them both happy today.
It’s a good feeling,Kirk admitted.
The meal stretched longer than Kirk had expected, none of them seeming eager to end it. The conversation flowed easily, from Percy’s dinosaurs to Kirk’s chilies to Isla’s early days in culinary school. The shadows lengthened across the floor as afternoon gave way to early evening, and only when Percy’s enthusiastic chatter began to slow did Kirk realize how much time had passed.
“And then...” Percy’s sentence trailed off as he suppressed a yawn. “And then we found the strawberries...”
