Page 43 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
Michael watched her trace a finger along the glossy leaves and wished she were trailing her fingers down his chest. His bear urged him to reach for her hand, to pull her close and confess everything. How she was his mate, how he’d known it from the first moment he’d caught her scent, how everything in his world had realigned around her from that moment.
Instead, he cleared his throat. “Let’s grab that coffee from the office. I put a fresh pot on not long ago. Or I could make tea if you prefer.”
“Coffee sounds perfect,” Sarah said, turning back to him with a smile that warmed him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.
They continued along the path, their boots crunching in perfect rhythm through the snow. They’d fallen into step so naturally, as if they’d walked this path together a thousand times before. Ahead, his small office cabin beckoned with the promise of warmth…and privacy.
“Michael! Hey, Michael!”
The shout shattered the perfect moment. Michael turned to see Tom Henderson waving enthusiastically from between two rows of trees, his wife and teenage daughters standing beside a particularly full blue spruce.
“What do you think of this one?” Tom called out. “The girls are divided, and I need an expert opinion!”
Michael glanced at Sarah apologetically. “Regular customer,” he explained. “I should probably help.”
“Go ahead,” she said with an understanding smile. “I can wait.”
Michael took a reluctant step toward Tom, then half-turned back to Sarah. “Why don’t you come, too? Get some hands-on experience?”
Sarah’s face lit up with a smile that made his heart skip. “I’d love to.”
As they approached, Tom’s face broke into a wide grin. “Thanks so much.”
“You’re welcome. Sarah, this is Tom Henderson and his family,” Michael introduced them. “Tom, this is Sarah Carter. She’s designing some new promotional materials for me.”
“Nice to meet you,” Tom said, shaking Sarah’s hand before gesturing dramatically at the blue spruce. “Now, please tell my daughters that this tree is too big for our living room. I’ve been outvoted three to one.”
Michael circled the tree, assessing it with a practiced eye. “It’s about eight feet,” he said, measuring with his gaze. “What’s your ceiling height?”
“Eight and a half,” Tom’s wife supplied.
Michael nodded, running his hand along a branch to test its flexibility. “The trunk is straight, which is good. Strong branches that will hold ornaments well.” He looked at Tom. “How much space do you have around it?”
As Tom described their living room layout, Michael noticed Sarah examining the tree from different angles, her designer’s eye evaluating its shape and symmetry.
“What do you think?” he asked her.
Sarah tilted her head, considering. “The proportions are beautiful,” she said. “It’s fuller on one side, which would actually work perfectly against a wall. And the color is such a gorgeous deep blue-green, it would make ornaments pop.” She smiled at the teenage girls. “Your lights would look amazing against these needles.”
The girls nodded enthusiastically, clearly appreciating the reinforcement. “See, Dad.”
Tom sighed dramatically but couldn’t hide his smile. “Fine, fine. The tree experts have spoken.”
We make a great team,his bear said happily as Tom made his decision.
Michael felt a surge of pride and satisfaction as he and Tom maneuvered the tree to the netting station. Sarah fell into step with Mrs. Henderson and the girls, chatting easily about holiday decorations. The familiar rhythm of preparing the tree—feeding it through the netter, tying it securely—felt different with Sarah watching, her presence making even this routine task feel special.
She makes everything feel special,his bear swooned.
Once the tree was loaded and secured in the back of Tom’s pickup, the Henderson family thanked them and drove off, the girls waving excitedly from the back seat.
Michael and Sarah stood side by side, watching the truck disappear down the snowy path. A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the distant laughter of children at the fire pit.
“That was fun,” Sarah said, her cheeks pink from the cold.
“There’s nothing better than seeing a happy face,” Michael replied, thinking not just of the Henderson family but of how Sarah’s smile had brightened when he’d invited her to help.
Sarah studied him for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. “This really means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
