5. Lennon
Chapter 5
Lennon
The morning sun glints off the fresh blanket of snow, turning everything into a dazzling landscape of white. It's like the world has hit reset, wiping away the gray of yesterday and replacing it with a bright, beautiful day.
The roads have finally cleared enough for us to make our way to Glacier Pass. I’m following Grant’s massive black truck in my car, Oreo settled in the seat beside me.
I glance at Oreo, who’s perked up and watching the heaps of snow zip by. “Looks like we’re on to something new, buddy,” I tell him, feeling the excitement bubble up. “I think Grant’s the real deal. Nothing like that creep Henry.”
Oreo gives a little snort like he's agreeing, or maybe he’s just excited about moving somewhere new. As I drive, I find myself looking forward to this fresh start, a chance to make sense of everything in my own time, in a place that already feels like it’s got potential. Plus, I get to learn all about the smoking hot polar bear shifter who says he’s my eternal mate.
After a couple of hours, we turn down a long tree-lined road that ends at Grant’s two-story log cabin. I pull in behind his truck and drag on my heavy coat before stepping out to take it all in. The smell of pine trees mixed with the crisp, cold air hits me, and I realize that’s where his yummy scent comes from.
“This is it.” Grant grins, walking over, his breath puffing out in little clouds. “Welcome home, baby.”
“Thank you.” I don’t correct the ‘baby’ nickname thing because… well, because my hussy lady bits love hearing his deep, soothing voice calling me baby.
He leads me in through the garage door, and the home is even more stunning on the inside. The cabin is a blend of wood and warmth, with big windows letting in light and an inviting gas fireplace that crackles to life when Grant hits a button on his phone. It's decorated in a way that speaks of comfort but with a certain rugged charm that suits Grant perfectly.
We settle Oreo on the large leather sofa before Grant shows me around, pointing out his cozy reading nook and a huge kitchen that seems built for huge family gatherings. Then we head outside and around back.
He shows me his workshop in the main garage where he makes gorgeous furniture. I look at all the tools and gear hanging on the well-organized walls and realize my polar bear mate is a neat freak.
There’s a separate detached garage with an upstairs apartment. It’s nothing like what Henry tried to pass off. This place is adorable, with slanted ceilings and rich wooden beams. There’s a little kitchenette, a snug living area, and a cute bedroom with a window overlooking the woods.
“This’ll be your space until you decide to move into the main house with me,” Grant says, his voice so warm it completely turns my insides to mush. “You can fix it up any way you like.”
I look around, picturing how I’d settle in, and the knots of worry I’d been carrying since I decided to quit my high-paying job to live more simply start to loosen bit by bit. “I love it,” I admit, turning to him with a smile. “Thank you, Grant. This is more than I expected.”
He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, seeming a little bashful. “I’m glad you think so. Let’s get your stuff unloaded before the weather decides to change its mind.”
We spend the next hour unpacking the cars. Oreo trots around, inspecting his new kingdom, and I can’t help but laugh at how he seems to have appointed himself head of security, barking at every rustle in the trees.
As we carry the last box inside, I take a moment to look around once more, feeling a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the heat from the fireplace. For the first time in a while, I feel at home.
Settling into Grant’s cabin has been like slipping into a favorite sweater—it just feels right. Over the next few days, life settles into a comfortable rhythm that I didn’t even know I was craving. Oreo has taken to lounging near the fireplace, and his happiness is as contagious as ever.
Keeping the place clean is a breeze. Grant must have some serious cleaning habits because the house was so spotless when I arrived that it’s more about maintenance than anything else. I dust here, sweep there, and pretty soon, it feels like second nature.
The kitchen is where I really start to feel at home.
One morning, enough groceries to feed a small army is delivered by the local market. Grant has thought of everything, from fresh vegetables to all kinds of meats and spices. It’s a little thing, but having a stocked pantry at my disposal makes the transition so much easier.
I start off simple, whipping up breakfast omelets stuffed with cheese for both of us before Grant heads out to his garage workshop to work on his next furniture order.
By evening, I’m roasting a chicken with thyme and lemon, the comforting aroma filling every corner of the house. Every time I cook something new, Grant acts like I’m some kind of culinary wizard, showering me with compliments as if I’ve just rediscovered fire.
In between chores and meals, we find time to talk and get to know each other better. We have these long chats over coffee in the morning where Grant shares stories about growing up here and the adventures he used to get into. I tell him about my own past and the stressful job that made me rethink all my career decisions.
One night after dinner, I finally get up the nerve to ask Grant about shifters. ”What do you want to know, baby?”
I don’t even know where to start. “Everything.”
“Have a seat, and I’ll break it all down for you,” Grant says as he plops down next to me on the L-shaped brown leather sofa. It’s cozy here, and I feel a little thrill that he’s going to spill the beans about his world. “So, first off, while I have an inner polar bear, I don’t go full bear mode like hibernating for months. Instead, my bear loves long winter naps—about twelve to fourteen hours at a stretch.”
I let out a laugh. “Hey, I love my sleep, too. Anything less than ten hours, and I’m completely useless.” A question suddenly pops into my mind. “Do you shift with the full moon or something?” I ask, trying to imagine a house full of bears every lunar cycle.
“No, I shift on demand,” he says with a grin. “I’ve got full control of my bear, even when he doesn’t agree with me.”
I can’t believe how much I didn’t know. “I read online that polar bears are solitary creatures,” I mention. Between researching polar bears and the shifter side of things, I’ve seen a mix of wild theories. Some sites make shifters sound like a bad sci-fi novel, while others describe them as just another part of the world.
“Yeah, polar bear shifters have a mix of polar bear and human genes. We’re not big fans of crowds, but most of us live in communities with our own kind. We blend in with humans. Most don’t even realize we’re around,” Grant explains.
Each answer spins more questions in my mind. “Is it normal for shifters to mate with humans?” That seems like a biggie.
“It’s fairly common.” He lifts my hand up to his warm lips. “When shifters find their mate, the bond is sealed with a bite. It leaves a mark at the base of your throat. It connects us—our life forces become intertwined so we journey through this life and beyond together.”
“So, you’re not immortal?” I’ve seen all sorts of opinions online, so I need to clear this up.
“Nope. We’re tough, and our inner animals help us outlive humans by a bit, but we all meet our end someday.”
“Together,” I say softly, wanting to be sure about what our future really means. I’m already head over heels in love with my polar bear shifter.
“Could we have kids? And would they be shifters?” The questions keep bubbling up.
“Our kids start human, but their first shift usually happens when they’re around five or six years old. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re ready when the time comes.”
I can’t help asking, “When did you first realize I’m your mate?”
“The instant I saw you in the hotel hallway. My inner bear fought me like never before while shouting ‘Mine.’”
“Your parents won't be upset with you for mating a human?” I wonder aloud.
“They’re going to love you. My brother, Dillon, just found his human mate,” he reassures me, pulling me close. I’m getting lost in him, his words becoming a little hazy alongside my soaring heart rate. “But, just so you know, they’ll give us space after we’re mated. We’re a close family, but polar bears respect each other’s independence more than most human in-laws do.”
I blink, taking it all in. “Wow, that’s a lot to process.”
“I’m positive you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Grant says, his gaze deep and full of love, making my heart do somersaults.
I’m running out of questions, partly because it’s hard to think straight right now. But one more pops up. “Tell me about your family.”
“Our clan’s pretty mixed. My dad’s a grizzly from Honey Pot Hollow. He met my mom, a polar bear shifter, when he moved here. Polar bear genes are stronger, so most of us were born polar bear cubs, but we’ve got one grizzly sister. Gabe, my twin, is older by two minutes. Then there’s the best—me. Next, comes Gianna, and finally, Dillon.”
“Wow, how am I ever gonna keep all this straight?” I laugh, dizzy from information overload and his nearness.
Then Grant kisses me, and all those remaining questions just melt away. As his lips meet mine, I realize everything else can wait. Right now, the warmth and connection are more than enough.
It suddenly occurs to me that despite our differences, or maybe because of them, we just click. There’s something seamlessly simple about how we’ve gelled together; it’s as if the snow brought us exactly where we needed to be. No forced moments, just the easy flow of two lives beginning to intertwine.
The evenings are my favorite. After our talk, we watch the sunset spill gold through the evergreens, just soaking up the peacefulness all around us. Oreo snuggles into his usual spot between us, content to watch the dusk settle.
Later that night, I climb into bed in my cozy little apartment above the garage, feeling a deep sense of love and contentment. My new life doesn't feel like I’m following someone else’s path. It’s my own destiny, crafted from decisions I never could have predicted but now wouldn’t trade for anything.
Life here isn’t just about figuring out what’s next or what it means to be a polar bear shifter’s mate. It’s about taking each day as it comes and enjoying the journey. And right now, that’s more than enough.