Chapter 14
Gunnar woke to the relentless beep of his alarm clock, the sound cutting through the early morning quiet of his cabin like a chainsaw through oak.
He slapped the button without opening his eyes, groaning as he rolled onto his back.
The bed creaked under his weight, the mattress dipping in the familiar spot shaped by his sleeping habits.
Outside, the mountains surrounding Nocturne Falls were still wrapped in darkness. The first hints of bird calls filtered through the cracked window, carried in on a breeze of fresh air.
He lay there for a moment, staring at the rough-hewn beams of the ceiling. His bear side wanted to hibernate, to burrow deeper into the blankets and ignore the world. But duty called. There were weather stations to log, trails to patrol, tourists to wrangle.
Same as always.
Except today felt different. His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Mattie. To the way she smelled so perfectly of honey. To her sarcastic smile. Her womanly curves. And that wretched imp.
Last night’s accidental wish, and its thankfully swift resolution, played in his mind like a rerun of Time Traveling Accountant. Mattie had stayed so calm, coaching him through the wording without making him feel like a fool.
Until that wish, they’d been having an unexpectedly nice night. He’d liked the way the cabin had felt warmer with her in it.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, bare feet hitting the cool hardwood. What would a relationship with Mattie be like? The question snuck in as he stood, stretching his arms overhead until his back cracked.
Chaos, probably. He could just imagine Blueberry turning his socks into snakes or his coffee into mud.
But maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Not if it also meant mornings with her beside him, her hair tousled on the pillow, that faint scent of wildflowers and beeswax filling the room instead of just pine and solitude.
Gunnar shook the idea out of his head and padded to the bathroom. He flipped on the light, squinting at his reflection in the mirror. Scruffy beard, rumpled hair, eyes still heavy with sleep.
He scratched at his beard, making it worse.
Who was he kidding? He was a bear shifter through and through.
Built for the solitary life, not for complications like witches and wishes.
He turned on the faucet, splashing cold water over his face.
The shock woke him fully, but it didn’t chase away the thoughts.
He cranked the shower on and stepped in as soon as the water was hot. As he lathered up, scrubbing under the spray of the shower, he couldn’t stop himself from imagining it. A relationship. With her.
Mattie laughing at his grumbles over breakfast, teasing him about his sweet tooth.
Him coming home from a long day to find her in the kitchen, experimenting with some new honey recipe.
Shared evenings on the couch, bingeing shows made even better by the company.
Her warmth against him, fitting just right despite his size.
But then the doubts crept in like steam fogging the mirror as he toweled off. What if she got tired of the isolation? His last girlfriend, if that brief relationship even earned her that title, had loved the buzz of town and the noise of people.
So much so that she’d moved to Atlanta.
Mattie seemed content with her hives and garden, but Nocturne Falls had its pull. The festivals, the shops, the endless stream of new people. And she was a witch, so that had to mean she belonged to the local coven. No doubt she had a lot of friends.
What if she wanted more than a grumpy ranger in the woods?
What if her magic clashed with his shifter instincts?
Bears were territorial; witches weren’t.
Were they? He didn’t think so. Mattie seemed fairly practical and levelheaded, but she came with Blueberry.
That alone could drive a man to hibernate permanently.
He glanced over his shoulder. Where was the imp this morning? So far, not a peep out of him. Gunnar decided to consider that a gift.
He dressed in his uniform of khaki shirt, cargo pants, sturdy boots, and clipped his badge on last like he always did. Routine was important.
A relationship would upend that. Dates in town?
He shuddered at the thought of Insomnia’s thumping music or the evening crowds at Howler’s.
But with Mattie … maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Her hand in his as they walked Main Street, dodging tourists who saw nothing but the fun of a town that celebrated Halloween every day of the year.
They’d stop for chocolates at Delaney’s or cones at I Scream, her eyes lighting up at the idea of sweets. He’d carry her bags, feeling useful instead of out of place.
Gunnar headed to the kitchen, flipping on the light as he entered.
Instantly, he realized two things. He’d forgotten to put Mattie’s cake away. And Blueberry was not to be trusted.
The imp lay snoring on the table near the remains of the cake, which amounted to a single piece. Blueberry was surrounded by crumbs and smears of buttercream that made the scene look like a battle had taken place.
Clearly, the cake had lost.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” No wonder the imp hadn’t bothered him during the night or this morning.
He’d meant to wrap the cake and stick it in the fridge last night. After Mattie left, he’d stood at the window too long, watching her truck disappear down the mountain road. Then he’d turned off the lights and gone straight to bed. Apparently, Blueberry hadn’t wasted any time.
Gunnar set his jaw. He moved closer, staring down at the little green menace.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered.
The word was barely out when Blueberry’s eyes snapped open. He sat bolt upright, wings buzzing once in alarm, eyes widening as he spotted Gunnar.
“Hey! What’s with the death stare?” Blueberry rubbed his frosting-smeared cheek, blinking rapidly. “I was sleeping. Sugar coma. Very delicate state. You can’t just loom over a guy like that.”
Still looming, Gunnar pointed at the plate. “You ate my cake.”
Blueberry glanced at the crumbs, then back at Gunnar with wide, innocent eyes. “Your cake? I thought it was community property. You left it out. Open invitation. Finder’s keepers. Survival of the hungriest.”
“It was on my counter. In my kitchen. In my house.”
Blueberry hopped to his feet, hands on his hips, wings fluttering indignantly. “And I’m your guest! Sort of. By magical obligation. You can’t just leave delicious cake unguarded and then get mad when nature takes its course.” He shook his finger at Gunnar. “That’s entrapment.”
Gunnar stared at him. The imp stared back, chin lifted, completely unrepentant.
After a long beat, Gunnar exhaled through his nose. “You’re a menace.”
“And you’re welcome,” Blueberry repeated, grinning now.
“For what?”
“For getting you some alone time with Mattie last night.”
Gunnar frowned. “I don’t need you intervening in my love life.”
“You don’t have a love life, from what I’ve seen.” The imp burped. “Oh, that’s better. You know, that cake is incredible, but so is Mattie. I can tell you like her.”
“I like her all right but just as a friend.” Gunnar grabbed a fork from the drawer and reached for the remaining piece of cake. Might as well call it breakfast. The first bite hit him the same way it had the night before, sweet and delicious and rich with honey.
He set the plate down long enough to make a pot of coffee. While that brewed, he cleaned up Blueberry’s mess and washed off the table. Once the coffee was done, he poured himself a cup.
He leaned against the counter, eating the rest of the cake slowly, letting the sweetness cut through the edge of his morning irritation. Blueberry watched him, smug as ever.
Yes, he liked Mattie. Didn’t mean he was willing to get into a relationship with her.
There were too many risks. For one thing, shifters bonded deeply.
If that happened and things went wrong, the hurt would leave him a hollow shell.
And what if his gruffness drove her away?
Or worse, what if her magic did something to him?
Turned him into a honey-obsessed bear who raided hives instead of protecting the woods?
More likely that would be something Blueberry did to him.
He snorted at the image, but it sobered him. Relationships meant vulnerability. Opening himself up to someone who could walk away.
He finished the cake, rinsing the plate and putting it in the dishwasher with a reluctant sigh. He and Mattie could be friends but nothing more.
With Blueberry flying along, Gunnar grabbed his keys, locked up, and climbed into the Tacoma.
He pushed the start button, and the engine rumbled to life.
He glanced at the imp. “After the stunt you pulled last night, I have even less patience than usual. You get me?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Blueberry muttered, eyes rolling.
“I mean it,” Gunnar growled.
Blueberry sat down, crossed his arms, and said nothing.
That worked for Gunnar.
The headlights cut through the misty morning air as he headed down the mountain road toward his first weather station. He hoped there was no tourist nonsense today, but whatever happened, he’d take care of it.
But his mind wasn’t really on his duties. It had already begun to wander to Mattie’s honey-brown eyes and sarcastic quips. And to the idea that he didn’t really have to spend his evenings alone.
If he didn’t want to. And she was willing.
A relationship with Mattie? It could be a disaster. Or it could be the best thing that ever stumbled into his woods.
Either way, he didn’t seem to be able to ignore the thought of it anymore.