Page 57 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
“I’m not cold,” Sarah said as she went to him. “It’s just a shock. It’s not every day you see a man shift into a bear for the first time.”
“It seemed easier than telling you,” Michael replied. “And more believable.”
Sarah laughed as she nodded. “That is true.”
“Come on, let’s get you inside and warmed up.” Michael slipped his arm around her shoulders and guided her back to the cabin.
Back inside, the fire crackled and popped, casting dancing shadows across the wooden walls. She peeled off her gloves first, then shrugged out of her coat, hanging it on a hook by the door. Her fingers tingled as circulation returned, and she moved closer to the fire, extending her hands toward the flames.
Her mind still reeled from what she had witnessed. A man who could turn into a bear. It should have been terrifying or at least unsettling, but instead, it felt...right somehow. Like a puzzle piece clicking into place. Her mother’s cryptic comments about Bear Creek being “special” suddenly took on new meaning. Had Pat known all along, there was more to this town than met the eye?
“Do you want something to drink?” Michael asked from behind her.
Sarah turned, almost laughing at how ordinary the question sounded after what had just happened outside. His voice was careful, measured, as if he were afraid of spooking her.
“Thanks,” she said, watching him closely. He looked exactly the same as before…tall, solid, handsome. Yet now she saw him differently. Because now she knew what lived beneath his skin.
“Coffee, tea, hot chocolate?” he offered, his movements slightly stiff as he moved toward the kitchen area.
Sarah considered for a moment. “I think I’d like something stronger,” she replied. “It seems more fitting.”
Michael nodded and crossed the living room to a cabinet in the corner. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the firelight as he turned back toward her.
“Perfect,” she said.
She watched as he poured two generous measures into glass tumblers. His hand trembled slightly as he extended one toward her, the whiskey sloshing against the sides.
Sarah took the glass, her fingers brushing his. “What are you afraid of?” she asked before taking a sip. The liquor burned pleasantly down her throat, warming her from the inside.
Michael held his glass to his lips, pausing before he took a drink. “I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he admitted.
She nodded slowly, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. “I’m thinking that maybe Santa is real.”
A surprised chuckle escaped him. “That would not have been my first guess.”
Sarah laughed and took a bigger sip of her whiskey. The fire beckoned, and she lowered herself to sit on the soft rug in front of it, tucking her legs beneath her.
“Well,” she said, looking up at him, “you shifting into a bear is like make-believe, yet it’s real.” She tilted her head, considering. “So what else is real? The tooth fairy, the Easter bunny...”
Michael settled beside her on the rug, his shoulder close enough that she could feel his warmth radiating through his sweater. “And Santa,” he added.
“Exactly,” she said, nodding.
“Well, I can’t answer that,” he said, the firelight playing across his features. “But I do know that what we share is real.”
Sarah’s eyes dropped to his lips, remembering their kiss at the Christmas market. Her heart quickened, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth on hers again. “And what do we share?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Michael stared into his drink for a long moment. The fire crackled, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. Finally, he looked up. “A mate bond.”
The words hung in the air between them. Sarah rolled them around in her mind, tasting their meaning. “A mate bond,” she repeated.
“Yes.” His eyes never left hers. “We belong together.” His gaze narrowed slightly as he studied her face. “But then I think you already know that.”
Sarah nodded, a strange sense of calm washing over her. “I think I do.”
She set her glass down on the hearth, the whiskey forgotten. The fire crackled behind them, sending sparks dancing up the chimney as she turned to face him fully.
“From the moment we met,” she whispered, “there was something... I couldn’t explain it.”
