Page 12 of Falling for the Bear Dad

Goddess, he was so close. I was sure I was perfuming and that he could scent it, but I couldn’t have covered it up if I wanted to.

“No. Thank you, Greyson, for everything. I’ll think about the nanny thing.”

He nodded. And if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a bit of disappointment in his expression. “Good night, Mya. I’m glad you ran over my mailbox. Didn’t like that thing anyway. We’ve been needing a new one.”

That made me laugh. It was a sound I hadn’t heard much in the past few years.

Jacob laughing at me, yes.

Me laughing? Not so much.

“Good night, Greyson. And let me know if you need me to mail anything else until you can replace it.”

I went in and shut the door and leaned against it. I listened as his door shut as well.

It would be so easy to knock on his door and offer myself to him, but I was still cracked open from Jacob, and the last thing I wanted to do was bring my baggage to Greyson’s door.

He’d gone through so much. Losing his wife, who, clearly, had affected him. He loved her. Anyone could see that when he spoke of her. Then raising Benji on his own.

I took a shower, reveling in the hot water, then poured myself into the bed, exhausted head to toe.

Jacob must’ve been beside himself with anger when he found me gone.

Good. It was his turn.

I thought about Greyson’s offer. To live here. Be a nanny to Benji. That kid had a level of energy I’d never experienced, but he was a sweetheart and was really needing the love of a female in his life. A motherly figure.

There was no downside of the proposition, except for Greyson.

I was attracted to him like I’d never been before, to anyone. Not even Jacob. As soon as I could, I needed to get my hands on scent blockers and also heat suppressants, since mine would run out, but that would be easy.

Before my eyes closed, I had made my decision. We would have to talk terms, and I had some questions, but maybe something bigger than me brought me to this place. With Greyson and Benji.

Suddenly, I believed in Fate and the power of broken mailboxes and cars.

Chapter Eleven

Greyson

Mya was already in the kitchen when I got down there. She stood at the stove, spatula in hand. Her hair was pulled up in a bun, wisps escaping to move in the breeze from the open window over the sink.

“Good morning.” I moved to stand beside her. “You didn’t have to get up and cook.”

“No, I know. But I wanted to thank you for being so nice to me. I didn’t know what to do last night.”

“Where did you find pancake mix? I thought we were out.” On the griddle in front of her was a row of golden hotcakes. “Wow, those look good.”

“You don’t need a box mix for pancakes. They’re so easy from scratch.” She scooped the cakes onto a plate. “If you could take these to the table, you can get started while I cook the rest.”

“Thanks, Mya.” It felt good to walk into a kitchen that smelled like pancakes and coffee and…

“Oh, I almost forgot the warm buttered syrup.”

Setting the plate down, I returned the stove where she was pouring fragrant syrup from a small pot into a little pitcher. I had a pitcher? “Buttered syrup?”

“It’s a family tradition. My mother always heated them together. I hope you like it. If not, I can get out the bottle and the stick for you.”

“The bottle and the stick…that sounds slightly… I’m sure it will be delicious.”