Page 25 of Wild Fated Mate
“The winners of the one-hundred and ninth annual hand fasting charity event are Delia Lloyd and Jackson Crane,” Carrigan read, scowling at the announcement in The Wild Mountain Weekly.
Carissa pouted. “You and Ms. Grant?—”
“Soon to be Mrs. Walker,” Serena corrected with a smile.
“You should have won! You stayed together the longest. These other people didn’t even make it the full twenty-four hours.”
Serena leaned back from her perch on my lap to look up at me. “Well, we were supposed to report back to the festival?—”
“But we were a little busy,” I finished, enjoying the pink blush on my mate’s cheeks.
The girls made a sound of disgust.
“Rules are rules,” Olivia said. She put a tray of cinnamon rolls in the display case. “Gavin made a donation to your troop, and you two got a matchmaking ribbon.”
“Ugh. It’s not the same as winning the money for the Roaring Rangers.”
“We can always find another suck—er—volunteer next year,” Carrigan said.
I wrapped my arms a little tighter around my curvy mate, securing her more firmly to my chest. Her happy sigh reverberated between us, the mate bond lighting up. I could feel her right under my heart. My bear often butted against it, as if to make sure it was real.
Whenever that happened, she would reach for me, as if she could reassure us both with a touch.
She was everything. My light, my heart, my future, my forever.
I inhaled vanilla and citrus, my bear rumbling in my chest.
“I did win, and I got the best prize of all,” I declared, my throat only closing a little at the words.
Serena turned in my arms and kissed me, pressing her soft, sweet lips to mine. “Nope. I’m the winner.”
A burst of laughter and high-fives erupted beyond her shoulders.
“I think we all are, Sunshine.”
12
A FEW MONTHS LATER…
Serena
The inhuman noises coming from Gavin’s office—even for a bear shifter—sounded like a cross between an animal being tortured and a human cursing up a storm.
In the hallway, I blew a kiss to the shadow box that held our handfasting string before I pushed the heavy wood door open with my hip.
“Hey.” I announced myself. Not that I needed to. There was no sneaking up on my mate thanks to his shifter senses, but he’d been distracted lately. I carefully placed his mug far from the mass of paperwork covering his immense desk.
The desk was a recent addition to our cabin, along with all my surviving furniture that withstood my big, burly bear shifter. His cousin Cy from his bear clan had handcrafted the desk, the damn thing nearly the size of a dining table.
I blushed at the memory of what we’d done on his actual table. He’d said I was the best meal he’d ever eaten on there. I shivered at the memory of his large hands on my thighs, pinning me down and open, exposed to him in the early morning light in the kitchen.
Usually I just had to think about those moments, and Gavin would be all over me, scenting my arousal.
He looked up at me now, and I smiled at him. His hair was rumpled and his eyes were tired. But the second they met mine, that cinnamon red-hots glint was back. A quick grin ghosted across his lips.
He was happy to see me, but whatever thorn stuck in his paw needed to come out. This wasn’t the first morning he’d left our bed after tossing and turning half the night.
I took a sip of my coffee. If he had a problem, he had to talk about it. That was our deal. In those moments, I told him what I wanted and needed, letting myself be open and vulnerable; he had to do the same. I waited him out.
