Page 29 of A Bear's Journey

Chapter Eight

Craig

“I don’t haveanything but plaid,” Craig said, scowling at his half of the closet. He stood in front of it wearing an undershirt and boxer briefs.

“Bullshit,” said Jasper. “You wore a dress shirt one to that fundraising dinner two months ago. Where is it?”

“Fell into a sinkhole?” asked Craig.

Behind them, Ninety Nine lounged on the floor of their bedroom, watching them as though they were entertainment.

He sneaked a glance at Jasper’s half of the closet, which was considerably neater than his. Not catalog neat — Craig didn’t think he could live with that — but Jasper never seemed to have a problem with finding things to wear to any sort of occasion.

Craig could find an outfit to wear to work on a moment’s notice. Everything else was a little sketchy.

“I’ve seen your workbench out in the garage,” Jasper said. “I know you can organize things when you want to.”

“That’s different.”

“Not really.”

Jasper took a couple steps over, his tie undone and hanging around his neck, and started violently shoving through Craig’s closet, crammed with plaid and flannel.

“You’ve got a sleeping bag in here,” Jasper said.

“And?”

Jasper didn’t answer. He stuck his entire arm into the closet, made a face, and then, with an effort, pulled something out.

It was a dress shirt with very light gray and white stripes.

“There it is,” said Craig.

“You’re welcome,” said Jasper.

He handed his mate a tie.

“Just wear this, I think finding your own might actually be hopeless,” he said.

“You complete me,” Craig said, teasingly. Jasper rolled his eyes, but then Craig grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

“I might have to,” Jasper said quietly when they separated.

Craig frowned.

“Why? We found her,” he said.

“She might not want us,” Jasper said. He turned away and started doing his own tie in the full-length mirror. “Being feral fucks people up, Craig, and you can’t just charm them out of it.”

“That’s not what I was doing,” Craig said. “I know it does.”

“Most people who were feral never mate,” Jasper went on, quietly. “Most of them wind up moving to the middle of nowhere after a few years, and they sort of gradually go back to how they were. It changes your brain, Craig. Forever.”

Craig stepped between Jasper and the mirror, forcing his mate to look at him, wearing a dress shirt and boxers.

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Just for once, don’t do the research and run the numbers. Let’s just feel it out, okay?”

He grabbed Jasper’s hand in his own and looked into his mate’s light brown, nearly-golden eyes.

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