Page 1 of Saved By the Grizzly Bear

ONE

Morgan

“Isn’t this exciting?” My mom asks me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders.

The motion is stiff, her arm bent at a weird angle, and I force a smile on my lips as I glance at her. I’m just as tense, my back ramrod straight.

“Yeah, exciting,” I agree.

The truth is that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I have been ever since my parents first told me about this spur of the moment trip.

My parents and I aren’t close; we never have been, and that’s why it was so strange when they brought up spending ten days in Alaska. They pretty much ignored me when I was growing up, and when I moved out and went to college four years ago, we drifted even further apart.

When they first brought this trip up, I thought that perhaps having me gone for four years had made them regret how they treated me growing up. I was hopeful that this trip was their way of trying to make it up to me. There’s still a part of me that feels like this is a trap.

“Let’s get checked in,” my dad says as he grabs his bag and my mom’s.

I drag my own suitcase out of the back of the rental car and trudge behind them up to the Aspen Ridge Ski Resort.

I know my guard is still up around my parents, but I’m actually looking forward to trying skiing for the first time. I grew up in southern California, where the temperature never drops below fifty degrees so Alaska sure is a shock to my system. I pull my parka tighter around me as we hurry into the resort.

My dad heads over to check us in, and I look around the place, taking in the giant windows. The resort is made of wood and I’m kind of surprised that my parents picked this place. I’m actually shocked that they picked Alaska at all.

My parents are total snobs. They like the finer things in life, which is fine, but they also look down their nose at literally everyone who isn’t on their social standing. It’s all about looks and appearances with them and always has been. They’ve gone on vacations over the years, a lot of them, but it was always to places like Aruba, Paris, or Greece. Whatever the newest hot spot was to visit, they were there.

Maybe Alaska is the next big vacation spot, I muse, though I doubt that.

Aspen Ridge, Alaska, is a tiny town far from anything. That’s why it doesn’t make sense to me that my parents wanted to come here.

“Here’s your room key, Morgan.”

“Thanks.”

I take the key from my dad and follow them dutifully over to the elevator bank. We step on and ride up to the fourth floor in silence. It’s awkward and tense as I follow them down the hallway to our rooms.

“I’m going to freshen up,” my mother says, and my father nods.

“We have dinner reservations at the restaurant downstairs at seven. Randolph is meeting us.”

That has me freezing in my tracks and I turn to face them.

“Randolph?” I ask, and they share an anxious look.

“Yes,” my mother says, trying to appear unphased. “He’s here on vacation too.”

I don’t like this. Randolph is one of my parents’ stuffy friends. He hits on me every time I see him, and I’ve been trying to ignore him. I mean, he’s old enough to be my father.

“Oh, is that a coincidence?” I ask, my voice tight.

“Yes,” my mother says at the same time that my father says, “no.”

I look between them, and my mother shakes her head at my dad.

“No, it’s not a coincidence,” my dad admits, and my mother sighs.

“Oh,” I say softly, my stomach sinking.

“He’s here for your wedding,” he says, and I gasp.

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