Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
“ M other!” Artek and Carys exclaimed simultaneously.
“What? I’m not dead yet despite what my doctor says about my condition...”
“Which reminds me,” Trey chimed in, “shouldn’t we discuss wedding dates soon? You know, before your tragic and completely fictional demise?”
“I do like December,” Vida mused. “The snow would be so romantic...”
“Perfect!” Frenchy pulled out his phone. “I know this amazing ice sculptor who does the most gorgeous?—”
“We’re not engaged!” Meara protested, though she couldn’t stop smiling.
“Details.” Frenchy waved dismissively. “The way you two look at each other? It’s happening. Now, about the cake...”
The wedding planning continued through dessert, with increasingly elaborate suggestions from all sides. Artek found himself paying more attention to Meara’s reactions than the actual conversation. She’d relaxed into the chaos of his family, trading jokes with Carys and playing along with his mother’s dramatic proclamations. The terror of the barn fire seemed distant, though he knew it still haunted them both.
When she caught him staring, she smiled that smile that made his bear want to swoon. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“That dopey grin Trey mentioned.”
He should have growled or denied it. Instead, he leaned in to kiss her softly, not caring that his family was watching.
“See?” Frenchy stage-whispered. “Total mush. I love it.”
After dinner, while Vida served coffee and Frenchy debated flower arrangements with Carys, Artek led Meara into the garden. The space was magical in the twilight with twinkling lights strung through the trees and sweet-smelling flowers blooming despite the autumn chill.
He spread a blanket on a patch of grass, pulling her down beside him. Above them, stars glittered in the clear sky.
“Your family is amazing,” she said, snuggling into his side. “Completely crazy, but amazing.”
“They’re your family too now.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Even if they’re planning our wedding without permission.”
She tilted her face up to study him in the dim light. “Does it bother you? All the teasing?”
“No.” He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. “My bear likes it, actually. Hearing them talk about making you officially part of the sleuth.”
“Yeah?” Her smile turned mischievous. “So you wouldn’t mind if Frenchy books those shifter strippers?”
He growled, rolling them so she was beneath him on the blanket. “The only bear you need to see strip is me.”
Her laugh turned into a soft gasp as he nipped at her throat. “Artek! Your mother could walk out here any minute.”
“Don’t care.” He kissed the spot he’d just bitten, relishing her shiver. After nearly losing her today, his bear needed the contact, needed to cover her in his scent and kisses until everyone knew she was his.
“Yo, lovebirds!” Trey’s voice carried from the porch. “Stop making cubs in the garden! Vida’s breaking out the photo albums!”
Meara laughed against Artek’s chest. “We should probably go rescue your reputation.”
“Too late for that.” He helped her up, keeping her close. “Carys probably already showed you the goth photos.”
“Mm-hmm. You were very brooding and mysterious.”
“I hate everything.”
“No, you don’t.” She stretched up to kiss him quickly. “Come on. I want to see tiny bear cub Artek in all his adorable glory.”
They headed inside to find Vida had indeed assembled an impressive array of photo albums. Frenchy immediately commandeered one, cooing over baby pictures while Carys provided running commentary.
Artek settled into an armchair, pulling Meara onto his lap. She relaxed against him, warm and safe in his arms. His phone buzzed—a text from the security team reporting movement near the Lopez property. But for now, he pushed the worry aside.