9. Bjorn #2
Bjorn grumbled lowly, and Dennis looked like he wanted to give grumbling a try, too.
“His parents have already tried to tell him he has to stay here,” he told her, earning himself a glare from Bjorn, who had been hoping they could just forget about that part.
“What?” he challenged. “She was going to find out eventually. From you or from the alpha or from your father, himself. I just saved us time.”
She chuckled. “Oh, I like your spirit. Even if you are a little bit of a tattletale.”
Dennis sputtered out a protest. Bjorn bet no one had called him a tattletale since he was in kindergarten. But then, Gran had been a kindergarten teacher, back in the day. “But -” Dennis began, but she waved a hand, dismissing him.
“Now,” she broke in confidingly, “tell me exactly what Ronald and Rowena said, before Bjorn changes back and starts arguing with me.”
Bjorn tried, he really did, but the shift just wouldn't come. So instead he did his best to glare at his mate, who stared back implacably.
After a second, when Bjorn had silently admitted defeat, Dennis looked back at Gran and cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh, his father’s name is Ronald? He failed to introduce himself before they started lecturing.
Basically they just said that Bjorn owed it to the den and his family to stay here and take ‘his birthright’,” he told her, making sarcastic air-quotes around his birthright.
“Bjorn told them ‘no’, but they didn’t seem to be buying it. ”
She harrumphed. “That man. I don’t know where I went wrong.
I’ve been telling him for ten years that Bjorn was doing fine on his own, but he refuses to believe me.
Makes rude comments about his own son being a failure!
” She coughed again, not as deeply this time.
“And Rowena!” She sighed. “That woman's spine is actually the stick up her ass.”
Dennis coughed out a laugh at that, though it was clear he’d tried to hold it back. He turned to look at Bjorn. “She’s so much more fun than your parents,” he told Bjorn, who huffed his agreement and licked his grandmother’s cheek.
Gran grimaced and wiped the spittle off her skin, but didn’t scold Bjorn. “I’m the only one in the family - besides Bjorn - with any sense of humor,” she informed Dennis. “Stick with me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed immediately. “Uh, come to think of it,” he added hesitantly, “I’m not sure where we’re supposed to be staying while we’re here, but I’d really rather it not be with Bjorn’s parents if we can avoid it.”
Oh dear. Bjorn knew his grandmother’s house like the back of his hand, and he knew exactly where this conversation was going. It was either going to end up really good or really bad.
Gran waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, no, you don’t need to stay with them. I’ve got my spare bedroom. You can stay in there - and that way Bjorn can fuss over me all he wants.”
He didn’t fuss. He just wanted to take care of her until she was back on her feet. Was that so wrong? He let out a frustrated rumble at being able to say none of this out loud.
Dennis, meanwhile, was probably wondering how this was his life.
Yes, he’d ended up in another only-one-bed situation.
“Uh,” he ventured tentatively, “you only have the one spare room? Do you maybe have a couch I could fit on?” Oh, he was willing to be the one to sleep on the couch this time? How chivalrous of him.
She shook her head. “Only the one bedroom. The couch is…well, I live alone,” she explained, “so I don’t need much space.”
Dennis dropped his face into his hands and just sat there for a long second before straightening up and nodding. “Right,” he managed steadily. “Well, okay then. Don’t suppose it has a large bed?” he tried.
“Oh, it’s a double,” she assured him placidly, as if that would fit two grown men, let alone a man and a bear. “You’ll be fine.”
Well, Bjorn certainly had no objection to it, but then he seemed to always be the one who ended up on the bed while Dennis hit the floor when he shifted. Maybe he should offer to sleep on the floor?
Was that a twinkle in Gran’s eye? Dennis narrowed his eyes, studying her. “Are you sure you only have the one bedroom?” he demanded.
“Yup,” she said, but a small smile was twitching at the corners of her mouth. She really did only have the one guest room, but Bjorn could tell she was taking unnecessary amounts of joy in telling Dennis that. “You’ll be fine. Now, tell me about your first meeting!”
As Dennis paused to take a breath and, probably, prepare his story, Bjorn abruptly shifted back to human.
He shook himself out, then laughed and turned onto his back, putting his hands behind his head and not minding his nakedness.
Gran had seen it all before. So had Dennis, at this point.
“I was eating a fish,” he said. “There’s a creek next to the cabin we were at, and of course the area was deserted when I got to the cabin - I got there while Dennis was napping and I hadn't gone inside - so I decided to have a quick snack in bear form before I hauled my stuff inside.” He chuckled again.
“Dennis came walking out of the cabin and caught me mid-fishing. Next thing I knew, I was sitting there naked with a dying trout in my mouth.”
Gran snorted, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh dear,” she managed through her hand. “That’s quite a meet-cute. What did Dennis say?”
Dennis winced, looking like he was trying to keep his eyes on anything but Bjorn’s body.
In truth, the first thing he’d said was a hearty nope, but Bjorn didn’t want to hear him say it again.
He decided to tear off the bandage himself.
“He said ‘no',” he informed his grandmother, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Dennis doesn’t want a mate. Or at least, he doesn’t want a shifter mate.”
“What?” she demanded. “Why not?” She glared at Dennis, her jovial expression gone in an instant.
“Uh, well…” He shrugged and ran a hand nervously through his hair. “The chaos. And I don’t really buy that there’s such a thing as fate that declares who you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with. I have free will, you know?”
Gran harrumphed. “You can have free will and still appreciate my grandson. Doesn’t matter if you believe in fate once you realize he’s perfect for you.”
“But how would I know if he is or not?” Dennis asked, and it came out sounding more plaintive than challenging. “I don’t know him or anything about him. We’re total strangers.”
“Hey!” Bjorn protested. “We’ve been in each other’s pockets for three days.
Shared beds. Talked throughout the never-ending drive here.
You know me now.” He’d enjoyed their three days of bonding, and he’d thought Dennis had too.
And sure, they didn’t know everything there was about each other, but no one ever did when they started a relationship.
Frankly, he thought I don’t know you was increasingly just an excuse Dennis used to cover… well, he didn’t know what.
Dennis waved a dismissive hand. “Three days. I’ve known you for three days. And yes, we’ve talked a lot, and yes, we get along, but I’m supposed to get shifter-married to someone I’ve known for all of three days? And you wanted to mate me the second you met me, let alone after waiting three days!”
Bjorn’s grandmother had been looking back and forth between them like she was at a tennis match. Now she interjected sagely, “So get to know him. You’ve got the rest of your lives to do it.”
Dennis pursed his lips. “I mean, yeah, I’m happy to get to know him, but that’s supposed to come before the marriage, not after.”