Page 37 of Grin and Bear It

An idea formed in his mind. Small gestures first. Nothing overwhelming or demanding. Show her through actions, not just words, that he noticed her—the real her beneath the tough bounty hunter exterior.

His bear hummed approvingly.Good plan. Patient hunt.

For once, both sides of his nature agreed completely. Thora Halliwell was worth the time and care required to earn her trust.

As he stood to prepare for the day ahead, Artair caught himself smoothing his hair in the same grooming pattern he’d used on her fur during the night. Down the hall, the shower started, and he smiled at the thought of her in his home, using his soap, her scent mingling with his.

The hunt had begun, though not the one she expected. He’d track her heart with the same determination she pursued her bounties.

And Artair Maxen never failed to catch what he pursued.

THIRTY-FIVE

The bell above the door of Sunrise Diner chimed as Thora pushed inside, drawn by the promise of food. Morning sunlight streamed through the wide windows, bathing the checkered floor in golden light. The scent of bacon, pancakes, and fresh coffee wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

She chose a booth in the corner, back to the wall, with clear sightlines to all exits—habits of a lifetime that kept her alive in her profession. A waitress approached with a coffee pot, but before she could order, a familiar voice called across the diner.

“Thora! Over here!”

Bryn Maxen waved enthusiastically from a booth near the window, her honey-blonde hair catching the sunlight. Thora hesitated, instinct urging her to maintain solitude, but Bryn was already sliding out of her seat.

“Cancel that order, Margie,” Bryn told the waitress. “She’s with us.” She hooked her arm through Thora’s, ignoring her stiffness. “Come on, we’ve got room.”

Before Thora could protest, she found herself pulled toward Bryn’s booth where two other women sat. One was Kalyna Foxworthy, the fox shifter who’d tried to break their magicaltether, her copper-red hair piled atop her head in an elegant twist. Beside her sat a petite woman with a bobbed auburn haircut and mischievous hazel eyes.

“Perfect timing,” Bryn declared, pushing Thora into the booth before sliding in beside her, effectively blocking escape. “We’re just ordering breakfast.”

“I didn’t agree to join you,” Thora pointed out.

“Details.” Bryn waved dismissively. “You need breakfast, we need breakfast. Logical solution—group breakfast.” She grinned. “Besides, don’t you want to know what’s in that fancy envelope that came for you?”

Thora narrowed her eyes. “What envelope?”

“We’re being rude,” the woman with the bob cut in, extending her hand across the table. “I’m Lucella Wilmot, Kalyna’s assistant at the library. You must be the famous Thora who tackled Artair Maxen in the town square.”

“Word travels fast,” Thora muttered, reluctantly shaking her hand.

“In Enchanted Falls? Honey, if you sneeze on Main Street, someone on Willow Lane will say ‘bless you.’“ Kalyna smirked, stirring sugar into her tea. “So, how’s freedom treating you? Still finding bear fur on your clothes?”

Heat crept up Thora’s neck. “The tether broke this morning. End of story.”

“Mm-hmm.” Kalyna exchanged a knowing look with Lucella that made Thora’s fingers itch for the knife strapped to her thigh. “That explains why my magical aura detector kit lit up like Yule fireworks when I passed Artair’s cabin this morning. Powerful shifter magic.”

“Whatever happened in that cabin—” Thora began.

“Oh my goddess, somethingdidhappen in the cabin!” Bryn squealed, bouncing in her seat. “I knew it! Grandma Eira sensed it too—she’s already planning the honey ceremony.”

“There will be no ceremony,” Thora growled. “Nothing happened.”

“Your pupils say otherwise,” Kalyna observed with clinical interest. “They dilate approximately 42 percent whenever Artair’s name comes up.”

“They do not.”

“Just did it again. Forty-three percent that time.”

The waitress—Margie according to her name tag—approached with a coffee pot, saving Thora from whatever retort might have escaped her lips. “What’ll it be, ladies?”

“Blueberry pancakes for me,” Bryn chirped. “Extra syrup.”

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