Page 66 of Sweet Heart for the Bear

But none of that matters right now.

I have bigger things to deal with.

“Carina,” Dina says, her voice soft but wary.

MJ places a hand on her shoulder, as if warning her to tread lightly.

That’s when I notice the third man in the room.

I kind of recognize him—vaguely—from the pizzeria.

But his face is wrecked.

A massive white bandage covers most of his nose, and the bruises around his eyes look like someone clocked him hard enough to break something.

Ouch. That must have hurt.

I glance at Uncle Uzzi, who is already watching me carefully.

That old man sees things. More than he lets on. I can tell just by the glint in his sapphire-blue eyes.

But he’s not the one I need to talk to.

It’s the other one.

Horace.

He’s sitting there, watching me in that way that makes my heart trip over itself, like it’s forgotten how to beat properly.

A plain white T-shirt, like the one I am wearing, stretches across his broad chest, and his forest-green sweatpants make him look ridiculously comfortable for someone who just turned into a damn Grizzly Bear an hour ago.

His dark hair is a mess. Like he’s been running his fingers through it, restless.

And those eyes—deep, almost black, locked onto mine—burn with something I can’t quite name.

I walk closer. It’s like I am drawn to him.

Like he is holding a secret piece of me and the only way I am going to feel whole again is if I get closer.

So I do.

I don’t say anything.

I just reach out, pluck the glass from his big, warm hands, and take a sip.

The heat hits my throat immediately—sharp, fiery, like swallowing liquid sunshine with a vengeance.

I cough, wincing as the burn spreads through my chest, and my eyes immediately start watering.

“Wow. That is really intense,” I rasp, blinking back tears.

Horace’s lips twitch, like he’s fighting a smirk.

“Yeah,” the bruised guy—Doug?—chimes in. “Shit. Let me get you guys some water.”

“I’ll get it,” Dina cuts in at the same time, standing abruptly.

They both freeze, staring at each other in a weird, unspoken standoff.

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