Page 37 of Beary In Love

The pestle slipped from her fingers, clattering across the floor. "Nope. No. Absolutely not." She jabbed a finger at her reflection in the window. "We are not doing this. We are being professional and practical and?—"

"Talking to yourself again?"

Serena yelped, spinning around to find Logan leaning in the doorway, still shirtless and very sweaty. Her mouth went dry.

"Just... discussing potion theory," she managed, pushing her glasses up. "With myself. Because that's totally normal and not at all crazy."

Logan's mouth quirked up in that half-smile that used to drive her wild. Still did, if she was being completely honest. "Whatever works. Need any help in here?"

"No!" She said too quickly. "I mean, no, thank you. I'm good. Very good. Just... experimenting."

As Serena was driving home for the day, her car hummed along the quiet coastal road, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Her hands gripped the steering wheel as memories of the day replayed in her mind - Logan's special way with the animals, his infectious laugh, the way he smiled at her.

"Stop it," she told herself. "Friends. We agreed on friends."

But the word felt hollow, insufficient for the warmth that spread through her whenever he was near. Her phone chirped with a text notification. At the next red light, she glanced down to see Logan had sent a picture of the fawn curled up asleep.

"Just thought you'd want to see your patient resting comfortably," his message read.

Serena smiled, then immediately caught herself. "This is exactly the problem," she muttered, dropping her phone into thecup holder. "Ten years. I walked away and didn't look back for ten years. I don't get to just... want him again."

The light turned green, and she continued on her route home. "Yes, I still have feelings for him. But that doesn't mean I should act on them. I mean, who leaves someone they love and then expects a second chance a decade later?"

16

LOGAN

Logan paced in his office, phone in hand, staring at the festival flyer pinned to his bulletin board. The setting sun cast long shadows through the window, and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore reminded him of all those nights years ago when he and Serena would sneak away to watch the fireworks.

First things first. He snapped a quick photo of the fawn they helped earlier that morning. The little guy was curled up on a bed of fresh hay, sleeping peacefully after their day of treatment. He typed out a quick message: "Just thought you'd want to see your patient resting comfortably."

Serena's response came almost instantly. "Aww, sweet baby! That potion really helped with the leg pain."

Logan's thumb hovered over the keyboard. The bear inside him growled with impatience, but he forced himself to wait. Ten minutes ticked by as he wrestled with the right words.

"Beach festival tonight. Remember how we used to go?" He finally typed, then added, "Want to check it out? For old times' sake?"

The three dots appeared immediately. His heart hammered against his ribs.

"The Welcoming Spring Festival? I can't believe it's that time already! I've missed it so much. The bonfires, the music, the fireworks..."

"Is that a yes?" he texted back, grinning at her enthusiasm.

"Definitely yes! I just got home, need to change."

Logan's bear practically purred with satisfaction. "I'll pick you up at 8."

He set the phone down, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Working with Serena these past weeks had awakened something he'd thought was asleep forever. Every time she laughed at one of his jokes or got that determined look while brewing her potions, he felt himself falling harder. The way she connected with the animals, her gentle touch, her fierce protectiveness - it all reminded him why he'd fallen for her in the first place.

"Keep it together," he muttered to himself. "It's just the festival. Just two friends hanging out."

But even as he said it, he knew he was lying to himself. Nothing about Serena had ever been "just" anything.

Logan soon pulled up to Serena's house to pick her up for the festival. The bouquet of wildflowers he'd picked up sat hidden under a blanket behind his seat. He'd grabbed them on impulse, then chickened out of actually bringing them to the door. Friends didn't bring friends flowers.

His bear's keen senses picked up her scent before she emerged. When she stepped out onto her porch, his grip tightened on the steering wheel until the leather creaked.

Gone was the messy bun and practical clothes she wore at the sanctuary. Her hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, and she wore a flowing sundress that made his mouth go dry. The sight of her bare shoulders in the porch light sent his bear into a possessive frenzy.

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