Page 22 of A Very Beary Christmas
The idea had come to me while we were up at the lodge. I had been surprised to see that Sam had taken some of my canvases and put them up. He was so proud, boasting to anyone who would listen that I had done them.
I stood back and looked at my latest creation and smiled. My grizzly was there, like always, regal and magnificent in his natural surroundings. Only, he wasn’t alone this time. A woman stood with him, nuzzling her head against his neck. They looked good together. Content.Happy.
Opening the door a crack, I peeped out. Sam was curled up on the oversized couch, but I didn’t need to see him in order to hear him. His rumbling snores had provided a pleasant background music for me to paint by throughout most of the night.
I snuck out into the living room and hid the painting on the far side of the tree, out of sight. Turning around, I paused to appreciate the view.
A blanket covered Sam from the waist down, his top half bare. Tawny skin stretched over sculpted muscles, dusted with a slightly darker shade of golden-brown hair than appeared on his head. If there was a finer-looking man anywhere, I had never seen him.
A mischievous spark ignited from somewhere deep, and for a moment, I seriously considered launching myself onto his sleeping form and yelling, “Merry Christmas!” I refrained, though.
While I mightthinkabout doing things like that, they required a self-confidence and spontaneity I lacked. Instead, I tiptoed back into the bedroom, closed the door, and crawled into bed.
