Page 32 of Clumsy in Love

“No!” she said, side-eyeing him before returning her eyes to the road. “It’s not their fault some idiot brings fried chicken or grills hot dogs in the middle of the park. They just want to eat.”

“So, what do you do?”

She pulled into a parking lot where there was only one other car. A family of four stared out from inside the vehicle, eyes glued in awe as a black bear sat hunched over a picnic table, wreaking havoc on a picnic lunch they’d abandoned.

“Watch and learn.”

“Holy crap,” Cole said. “It’s huge.”

“You better stay in the car.”

He watched in horror as she got out, retrieved something from the trunk, and then headedtowardthe bear.

“Go on,” she yelled, waving her arms. “You’ve had enough. Get. Get!”

She was just going to shoo it away? Was she nuts? He got out, slipped his gun from its holster, and held it next to his thigh. Just in case her plan failed and she needed backup.

“Come on, buddy. Time to go.” Holly continued advancing on the bear, who’d looked up to see what all the noise was about but didn’t seem inclined to let a good meal go to waste.

Holly held up a canister and blasted out some warning honks. The noise, combined with Holly’s shrieking and arm waving,finally caused the beast to turn away from the food. None too happy about having its lunch interrupted, he—or she, Cole had no idea how to sex a bear—reared up onto its back legs and in no uncertain terms, told Holly to bugger off.

Its grumbling didn’t seem to faze Holly, but Cole’s pulse went into overdrive.

“Holly,” he yelled. “Why are you antagonizing it?”

She shot him a quick glance. “If you want to help, put your gun away and make some noise.”

He’d been in his fair share of tense situations. Dangerous, even scary-as-hell situations, but watching as a couple hundred pounds of bear came at them was new. And terrifying. Not wanting to look like a pansy, he holstered his gun and copied Holly’s movements, waving his arms and yelling nonsense.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a minute or two, the bear gave up and lumbered off. Not without taking a chicken leg to go. Holly followed it a ways into the woods, blasting the siren a few times for good measure.

She turned and walked back. “I said no shooting the bears.”

He held up his hands. “Just backing you up. In case the peanut butter and jelly was just an appetizer for a pancake-and-omelet-filled park ranger.”

She laughed and waved the family out of the car. “What happened?” she asked the man.

“We were eating lunch and saw it in the bushes. Thought it would be cool to see it up close, so we threw it some french fries. Next thing we know, he’s helping himself to the main course.”

“When we say don’t feed the bears, we mean it,” she said. “When you do, you endanger them.”

“Them? What about us?” the woman demanded.

“When people give them food, they become comfortable around us. It’s when they get too bold and won’t stay away that we have to put them down. For now, get all this cleaned up and leave the area. Otherwise, he’ll come right back.”

Cole and Holly stayed on site while the family packed up what was left of their lunch. Which they did as if it were a hundred-yard sprint. Holly ensured they picked up every last crumb and reiterated her lecture about not feeding the bears.

“Thanks for that,” Cole said as they returned to the car. “I love a good after-breakfast near-death experience. Maybe we can do it again after lunch?”

“Were you scared, Mr. Tough Guy? Afraid the big bad bear was going to eat you?”

He ignored the sarcasm. “At what point do you cut bait and run?”

“Cole.”

When she didn’t go on right away, he stopped rummaging for his seatbelt and looked at her. “What?”

“Do noteverrun from a bear.”

---