Chapter 10 - Ruby
I sit across from the IRS auditor, a stern woman named Mrs. Finch with wire-rimmed glasses and a voice like dry leaves. Cole is beside me, his massive frame somehow contained in the small chair, his presence both comforting and distracting after everything that happened last night.
"And these equipment maintenance expenses," Mrs. Finch says, tapping a manicured finger against the spreadsheet I prepared, "they occur with unusual regularity."
"Preventative maintenance," Cole explains, his voice steady despite the tension I can feel radiating from him. "Mountain weather is hard on machinery. Better to service regularly than face costly breakdowns."
I nod in agreement, sliding over the documentation we prepared. "You'll see the schedule aligns with manufacturer recommendations. It's actually saved Blackwood Construction considerable money over time."
Mrs. Finch doesn’t say a word, but I see approval in the slight relaxation of her shoulders. We've been at this for nearly two hours, and every question has been met with organized documentation and clear explanations. The chaos I encountered when I arrived is nowhere to be seen.
"And these cash withdrawals?" she asks, turning to the section I knew would be challenging.
Cole tenses beside me, but I smoothly intervene.
"Emergency funds for remote job sites," I explain, presenting the detailed expenditure reports Cole created.
"Construction in these mountains often means working in areas with no cell service, no credit card processing.
Cash ensures work continues uninterrupted. "
Mrs. Finch examines the reports with narrowed eyes. "Rather substantial amounts."
"Rural construction has substantial unexpected costs," I counter. "But as you can see, every dollar is accounted for in these reports, and the profit margins align with industry standards."
She peers at me over her glasses, clearly trying to intimidate. I meet her gaze steadily, channeling the same courage that allowed me to face a shifting bear-man last night without running screaming into the forest.
After what feels like an eternity, she closes her folder with a decisive snap. "Well, Mr. Blackwood, your records are in surprisingly good order."
Cole's leg presses against mine under the table—a silent thank you. "I have Ms. Oliver to thank for that."
Mrs. Finch glances between us, "Yes, well. You'd do well to maintain this level of organization moving forward."
"That's the plan," Cole says, and I feel the weight of meaning behind his simple words.
As we wrap up the meeting, I experience a curious mixture of emotions: professional pride in a job well done, personal satisfaction at having protected Cole's business, and underneath it all, a lingering amazement at the supernatural reality I've stumbled into.
Bear shifters exist. Magic is real. And somehow, impossibly, I'm the fated mate of the brooding, beautiful man beside me.
Mrs. Finch gathers her things, shakes our hands, and finally leaves. The moment her car disappears down the driveway, Cole turns to me, relief evident in those forest-green eyes.
"We did it," he says simply.
I smile up at him, feeling strangely giddy. "Was there ever any doubt?"
His answering grin is beautiful. "Not once you arrived."
In that moment, standing in the afternoon sunlight filtering through his cabin windows, I realize I have another decision to make. One even more important than facing mythological creatures or saving a business from the IRS.
Do I stay? Do I explore this impossible connection? Or do I return to my predictable life in Atlanta?
Looking at Cole Blackwood, the man who can become a bear, who built this beautiful home with his own hands, who looks at me like I'm a miracle he never expected to find, I realize there's really no decision at all.
Some mysteries deserve to be explored.
One week later
I pull my red sedan into Cole's driveway, heart thundering with a mix of nervousness and certainty. The mountain air smells sweeter than I remember, the forest welcoming me back like an old friend.
Seven days have passed since I left this place, since the audit concluded successfully and I returned to Atlanta to "think things over," as I told Cole.
Seven days of wrapping up loose ends, arranging remote work with my agency, packing essentials, and explaining to confused friends that yes, I'm moving to a small mountain town, and no, I haven't lost my mind.
Seven days of missing him with an intensity that shocked me.
I initially planned to take longer, to give myself space to process everything, to make sure I wasn't making an impulsive decision based on spectacular sex and supernatural revelations.
But each day without Cole felt longer than the last, each night emptier. The mate bond he described isn't just a shifter superstition. I've felt its pull growing stronger with distance rather than fading as conventional wisdom would suggest.
As I step out of my car, the cabin door opens, and there he is—tall and powerful, those green eyes lighting up at the sight of me. My heart quickens, and I know I've made the right choice.
"You're back," he says, as if he can't quite believe it.
"I'm back," I confirm, smiling up at him. "Sorry it took so long."
Cole crosses the distance between us in a few long strides, stopping just short of touching me.
"A week isn't long," he says, though his expression says otherwise. "I thought you might need more time."
"So did I," I admit, reaching for his hand. His fingers curl around mine immediately, warm and solid. "But it turns out I don't process well when I'm missing important data points."
His eyebrow lifts. "Data points?"
"You," I clarify, squeezing his hand. "Being away from you felt... wrong. Like I was trying to solve an equation with half the variables missing."
Something like hope dawns in his expression. "And that means?"
"It means I'm starting to believe in this whole fated mates thing." I step closer, tilting my face up to his. "It means I want to stay, Cole. Not just for a while. Not just to see where this goes. I want to stay."
The joy that transforms his features is almost painful to witness, like watching the sun break through clouds after months of rain. He lifts me off my feet in a crushing embrace, his face buried in my neck, breathing me in as if to confirm I'm really here.
"I missed you," he murmurs against my skin. "Every minute."
"I missed you too." I wrap my arms around his neck, marveling at how right it feels to be held by him. "Enough that my practical, logical mind has decided to take a leap of faith."
He sets me down gently but doesn't let go. "Your practical, logical mind is one of the things I love about you."
The word "love" hangs between us, neither of us ready to claim it directly but both feeling its presence. I smile up at him, running my fingers through his perpetually tousled hair.
"So," I say, "are you going to invite me in, or are we going to stand in the driveway all day?"
Cole chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Welcome home, Ruby Oliver."
Home. The word settles around me like a warm blanket. This cabin in the woods, this man who becomes a bear, this impossible new reality. It feels more like home than anywhere I've lived in years.
Inside, I notice small changes—a new bookshelf in the living room, empty and waiting; a second desk added to the office; a coffee machine that makes lattes alongside the simple drip brewer Cole prefers. He's been preparing for me, hoping I'd return.
"I cleared space in the closet," he says, a hint of shyness in his voice as he carries my suitcase to the bedroom. "And the bathroom cabinet. And added shelves in the pantry for whatever foods you like."
"Thank you." I follow him.
"It's just a room," he says, setting down my suitcase.
"It's our room," I correct.
He nods. "If that's what you want. Or I can sleep on the couch again if you'd prefer—"
I silence him with a kiss, rising on tiptoes to reach his lips. He responds instantly, his arms encircling me, pulling me against his well-built body. When we break apart, we're both gasping for air.
"This is what I want," I say, gesturing to the room, to him, to everything. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure, Cole."
"I've been going crazy without you. My bear has been impossible—pacing, restless, demanding I go find you and bring you back."
"And the man?" I ask, running my hands up his chest.
"The man wasn't much better." His smile is rueful. "Turns out forty years of independence can be undone by two days with the right woman."
I laugh, delighted by his candor. "The right woman who also happens to be your fated mate."
"That helps," he admits, his hands settling on my waist.
"Speaking of which... how was the full moon? I thought about you that night."
Cole's expression sobers. "Difficult. I drove deep into the national forest, found a remote spot. My bear wanted to run back to you, to find you. It took everything I had to stay away."
"You don't have to stay away anymore," I tell him, suddenly eager to witness this side of him again. Not in the shocking aftermath of passion, but deliberately, with full awareness. "Will you show me? When you're ready, I mean. I want to understand all of you, Cole. The man and the bear."
Wonder fills his eyes. "You really mean that."
"I really do." I take his face in my hands. "I've spent the past week researching everything I could find on shifters. Mostly fiction and folklore, since Google isn't exactly reliable for supernatural information. But the point is, I want to learn. I want to be part of your world."
"You are my world," he says simply, the words sending a shiver through me. "And yes, I'll show you. Whenever you want."
We stand there, holding each other, the afternoon sun casting long shadows through the windows. It feels like a beginning, not just of a relationship, but of an adventure I never could have imagined when I drove up to this cabin in the rain just over a week ago.
"So," Cole says eventually, his thumbs tracing circles on my hips, "what now?"
I pretend to consider the question. "Well, I have several emergency bookkeeping clients who need attention. And I should probably unpack. And we need to discuss a proper filing system for your business going forward—"
He growls playfully, lifting me into his arms. "That's not what I meant."
"No?" I wrap my legs around his waist, grinning down at him. "What did you mean, then?"
"I meant, my mate has returned to me after a week apart. My bed has been cold and empty. And my bear has been extremely patient."
"Ah," I say, my heart rate accelerating. "That now."
"That now," he confirms, carrying me toward the bed.
As Cole lays me down, his powerful body covering mine, I marvel at the journey that brought me here—from emergency bookkeeper to mate of a bear shifter in less than two weeks. It defies all logic, challenges everything I thought I knew about the world and myself.
And yet it feels right. Like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place. Like numbers that add up perfectly.
Some might call it magic. Some might call it fate. Whatever it is, I'm no longer fighting it. I'm embracing it. Embracing him, this extraordinary man who's opened my world to endless possibilities.
And as Cole's lips find mine, as his hands begin their now-familiar exploration of my body, I know with absolute certainty that I've found where I belong. In this cabin in the woods. In these strong arms. In this impossible, wonderful new reality.
I've come full circle, back to where my journey began. Only this time, I'm not just passing through.
I'm home.