Page 13 of Bear with Me
"I doubt that," he said. "I'm picky about notebooks."
He seemed to be picky about everything. Instead of syrup, he spread jam packets into his waffle craters. Then, he carefully cut around the squares and speared them with his fork, hoisting them into his mouth. How did he make eating waffles look so sexy?
Nope. Not thinking about Blake and sex, not even when he bent over our table to leave a cash tip after breaking a hundred-dollar bill at the register, or when he smiled and laughed with a hunched woman in an orange overcoat and flowery headscarf while helping her cross the street at the crosswalk. She also wanted to shop at the general store, so he held the door open for her.
So far, I'd seen no resurgence of his behavior from the plane. With every kind deed, it was easy to believe yesterday had been a bad day. Blake could have been playing me, but my bear didn't think so.
Inside,the general store looked like every quaint tourist shop I'd ever browsed. By the door, a rack of postcards for Pinevale tilted precariously toward the aisle. Shelves of knickknacks lined the walls, and rustic sign boards hung from the ceiling by chains,announcing the different areas. I pointed Blake toward "Cards and Stationery" to start.
Along the way, we passed the Christmas section. I'd never seen so many handmade decorations in one place before. Some were hideous, while others had a sort of small-town charm. In the next aisle, they had the typical artificial trees and string lights found in any big box store.
The stationery aisle looked picked over by comparison. The shelves for Christmas cards held only two sets, one with a cartoon reindeer on the front and the other with a white star on a black background. By the time I perused the shelves, Blake had already picked out three notebooks.
"This one deserves to burn," he said. "I figured we could use it as a fire starter." It was a simple list format with fuzzy monsters in the corners and one that looked like it was eating the middle of the page.
"Too much ink on the paper," I said. "Good idea, though. I'll ask if they have any unbleached paper towels. Those are what we use back home."
"You have a fireplace?"
"My parents do. Don't get me started on cleaning their fucking chimney during a blizzard." They hadn't started a fire all autumn that year, but the moment it snowed on Christmas Eve, Mom wanted a cheery blaze in the fireplace. I'd tried to stay on the ladder to avoid their sickeningly steep roof, but I'd had to brace my foot on the overhang to get the wire brush out without clogging the chimney with snow. Almost lost my balance. I shivered at the memory.
"If we clog this chimney, we're calling maintenance." I laughed when I remembered the person most likely to show up. "Probably Branson." He was the only staff I'd seen so far, though I doubted he'd delivered our room service.
"On second thought, I'll just cuddle up next to you, since you're a living furnace." Blake grinned, and my bear preened. He loved that idea.
"Almost forgot," he said. "I need pajamas, but first, I'll grab some tape." He pointed to the next aisle over.
"You still haven't shown me your notebooks."
A ruddy tinge colored his cheeks. "You don't need to buy me a notebook. If you won't let me burn this one, I don't need any of them."
He still had two tucked to his chest. I held my hand out and wiggled my fingers. After a heartbeat, he passed them to me. "The small gray one is for daily to-do lists. The larger one is for journaling. I can buy one."
The larger one had a sparkling purple cover. It reminded me of his shiny blue suit.
"Merry Christmas." I tucked them to my chest.
His eyebrows scrunched together. "I didn't get you anything."
Instead of reminding him we'd just met, I said, "There's still time."
His frown deepened to a scowl. "You find the paper towels. I'll look for pajamas and meet you outside."
I liked his take-charge attitude, even when he glared like he wanted to murder me. "See you then."
Paper towels could be anywhere. Instead of wasting time looking for them, I asked the young woman behind the counter where I could find some. She pulled a roll off the shelf behind her and handed it to me. "Are you ready to check out?"
I nodded and handed her the two notebooks. With everything paid for and in a plain paper bag I also could use to start a fire, I made my way outside.
Through the store's large front window, I watched as Blake made his way to the counter. He handed the clerk some graysweats, a roll of tape with a separate dispenser, and a tiny figurine made of glass. It was so small, I couldn't tell what it was.
With his items in another paper bag, he met me outside. "Sorry I was so harsh in there."
"Not harsh. Bossy. I liked it." I hoped that wasn't too much information. I enjoyed being told what to do in the bedroom sometimes, and Blake was my mate. So far, all his bossy outbursts had done was convince me we would be compatible in bed.
"The grocery store is a few blocks this way. Do you mind walking?"
"Not at all." I enjoyed having Blake by my side, though I wished he had a warmer coat than the little windbreaker he wore over his sweater. "Where's your coat?"
