Page 65 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
They clinked mugs, the simple gesture more significant than Michael could ever say. These men were as much his family as his mom and dad. It meant a lot that they were so happy for him.
Just like we will be happy for them when they find their mates,his bear said.
They finished their coffee and croissants, the conversation flowing easily as it always did among friends. When the last crumb was gone and the coffee pot empty, James stood and stretched.
“We should let you get to work,” he said, nodding toward the window where a car was pulling into the parking area. “The Christmas tree rush waits for no man.”
Michael followed them outside, the cold air sharp in his lungs after the warmth of the office. As they reached the edge of the lot, Christopher bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and without warning, launched it directly at Michael’s chest.
“What the…” Michael sputtered as the snowball exploded against him.
Christopher’s laughter was cut short by a snowball to the face, courtesy of Michael’s quick reflexes. What followed was a brief but intense battle, the three grown men dodging and weaving between trees, pelting each other with snowballs like children.
Michael ducked behind a large blue spruce, packing snow between his gloved hands. He peered around the trunk, spotted Christopher’s red hat, and let fly. His aim was true, the snowball catching Christopher square in the back of the head.
“I yield!” Christopher shouted, brushing snow from his hair. “You win this round, North.”
Breathing hard and grinning like fools, they made their way back to the main path. James clapped Michael on the shoulder.“We’ll leave you to your customers,” he said. “It’s good to see you so happy.”
“There’s nothing quite like the smug satisfaction of a newly mated shifter,” Christopher added with a wink. “Enjoy it, brother.”
Michael watched them leave, then he turned back to the farm, ready to face the day’s customers with a smile that wouldn’t quit.
The morning passed in a pleasant blur of families searching for the perfect tree, children racing between rows of pines, and the constant scent of sap and snow. Michael guided them with practiced ease, helping a young couple find a modest spruce for their first Christmas together, assisting an elderly man in selecting a tabletop tree that wouldn’t overwhelm his small apartment.
He was adjusting the netting machine when it hit him—a familiar scent carried on the breeze. Emmy. Michael’s head snapped up, his gaze scanning the lot until he spotted her, bundled in a purple coat and matching hat, the pom-pom bobbing as she walked.
But she wasn’t with Sarah or Pat. Instead, a man walked beside her, his hand on her shoulder. Even from this distance, Michael could see the resemblance. The same dark hair, though the man’s was cut shorter, the same slight tilt to their chins.
Liam.
Michael’s bear growled low in his chest, a protective surge that he quickly tamped down. The man was Emmy’s father, after all. He had every right to spend time with his daughter.
Before Michael could decide whether to approach them, Emmy spotted him. Her face lit up with a smile that melted any reservations he might have had.
“Michael!” she called, breaking away from her father and running toward him, her boots kicking up puffs of snow. “We came to get a wreath!”
Michael crouched down to her level, grinning at her enthusiasm. “Is that so? We have some beautiful ones in the wreath barn. Do you want me to show you where they are?”
Emmy nodded vigorously, her cheeks pink with cold. “I told Dad all about how you helped us choose a tree and how you took me and Mom on a sleigh ride. So Dad said we should come here and get a wreath for Grandma’s front door. Can you help me pick the best one? Like you helped us pick the best tree.”
“I’d be honored,” Michael replied, rising to his feet as Liam approached.
The man was lean, dressed in a jacket that looked more fashionable than functional for Bear Creek’s winter. His eyes assessed Michael with barely concealed suspicion.
“So you’re the Christmas tree farmer I’ve heard so much about,” Liam said, extending his hand. There was a sour ring to his tone that set Michael’s teeth on edge.
Michael put on his best customer service smile, the one he reserved for difficult clients. “It’s good to meet you, Liam.”
They shook hands, Liam’s grip unnecessarily firm. When Michael would have pulled away, Liam held on, leaning in closer.
Two can play at that game,his bear said.Show him how hard a Christmas tree farmer can squeeze!
But Michael resisted the urge to crush Sarah’s ex-husband’s hand. Although he could not deny that the temptation was real.
“I need you to stay away from Sarah,” Liam said as he finally let go of Michael’s hand. He kept his voice low enough thatEmmy, who had skipped ahead toward the wreath barn, couldn’t hear.
Michael’s temper flared hot, his bear surging forward with a roar that he barely contained. However, he forced his smile to stay in place as he exuded calm, although he knew his eyes sent a different message.
