Page 44 of Stout Bear

Laney found the spice jar and passed it to him, feeling a strange sense of belonging in this simple act of cooking together. She added tomatoes to the pan, watching as Max incorporated them into the sauce.

“My mom taught me this recipe,” Max said as he stirred. “She always said good food could solve almost any problem.”

“Was she right?” Laney asked, leaning against the counter.

“Usually,” he replied with a soft smile. “Though some problems need more than just a good meal.”

Laney nodded, thinking of her own troubles. No amount of pasta sauce could fix those, but being here with Max somehow made them feel less overwhelming. She set water to boil for the pasta, then began washing and tearing lettuce leaves for a salad. The repetitive motion was soothing, giving her hands something to do while her mind settled.

“You're good at this,” Max commented, watching her efficient movements.

“I like cooking,” Laney admitted. “It's predictable. Follow the steps, get the expected result.”

“Unlike town councils,” Max said gently.

Laney's hands stilled for a moment. “Unlike a lot of things.”

Max moved behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I'm sorry about what happened.”

“It's not your fault,” she said, leaning back slightly against his solid chest. “I should have known better than to hope they'd listen.”

“They should have,” Max said firmly. “And eventually, they’ll have to.”

When the pasta was ready, Laney drained it while Max finished the sauce. Together, they assembled their plates and carried everything to the small kitchen table. Max lit a candle and placed it between them. Laney twirled pasta onto her fork, savoring the rich flavor. Something had been building inside her since they arrived, something she needed to share.

“My father could have given me the changing bite,” she said suddenly. “When I was younger.”

Max looked up, his expression attentive but careful. “Why didn't he?”

Laney traced the rim of her wine glass with her finger. “He said it wasn't necessary. That I should accept being a half-shifter, that it was what nature intended.” She paused, old pain resurfacing. “But I think he was afraid it wouldn't work. That I'd be disappointed, or worse, that I'd be hurt by trying.”

“Do you believe that?” Max asked.

“Sometimes,” Laney admitted. “Other times, I think he just didn't want to bother. My siblings could all shift naturally. I was the anomaly, the one who needed extra help.” She took a sip of wine. “I begged him once, when I was sixteen. My brother and sister were always shifting, going on runs together. I felt so left out.”

“What happened?”

“He got angry. Said I was ungrateful, that many humans would kill to have even the connection to their animal that I had.” Laney blinked back unexpected tears. “After that, I stopped asking. I threw myself into science instead.”

Max reached across the table, taking her hand. “I'm sorry you went through that.”

“I'm scared, Max,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “After all these years of wanting it, I'm terrified it won't work, or that it'll hurt, or that I'll somehow disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” Max said firmly. “And you should know, I can give you the changing bite at the same time as when I claim you as my mate. But there's no rush, Laney. You can let your fox come out tonight, or another time. When you're ready.” His thumb traced circles on her palm. “This isn't about me, or some idea of what a mate should be. It's about what you want, when you want it.”

Laney met his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity and love. “Thank you,” she said.

After dinner, they cleared the plates together. Max washed while Laney dried, their movements in perfect harmony.

“How about some hot chocolate?” Max suggested after they were done. “With a little extra something to warm us up?”

Laney smiled. “That sounds good.”

Max prepared their drinks while Laney moved to stoke the fire. The flames leapt higher, casting a warm glow throughout the cabin. She settled on the sofa, pulling a knitted throw blanket over her legs.

Max joined her moments later, carrying two steaming mugs. “Hot chocolate with a splash of whiskey,” he said, handing one to her. “My dad's favorite winter remedy.”

Laney took a careful sip, feeling the rich chocolate followed by the warming burn of the alcohol. “Your dad is a wise man.”

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