Dennis
He was antsy, and he hated being antsy. He needed to talk to someone, and the choices were…limited. It was pretty much Gran, Bjorn himself, or Myrah. Yeah, Myrah.
It took him a good half-hour, but he finally got Gran immersed in reruns of her favorite TV show. He promptly patted her hand, told her Bjorn was in the kitchen working on lunch and to call him if she needed help, grabbed his phone, and let himself out of the house into the clearing.
He dialed Myrah’s number and tapped his fingers impatiently on his leg as he waited for her to answer. “‘Lo?” said a groggy voice.
Myrah growled, the sound almost bear-like, now that he’d heard actual bears growling. “I was up late. Had a date. What’s going on?”
A date? Ohhhh, that was interesting. “Nope, you first. Tell me about this date! Who was she? Did you like her? Are you seeing her again?”
“Ohhh, no. You’re not getting away with distracting me,” she countered. “You called me. You’re not the guy who calls just for a casual chat, which means something’s going on. Is it about the fish guy? Your mate?”
Damn, how dare she guess right on the first try? Just because they’d been married for almost ten years was no excuse. He harrumphed his disapproval of this, then sighed. “Yeah. Things have…happened.”
“Oooh.” She guffawed. “‘Things’? Were they sexy things? Is this a post-banging debrief?”
“No,” he snapped, then sighed again. “Not yet. But we did kiss. Well, actually, I kissed him. And then I told him we could go on a date.”
Myrah squealed. “Yes!” she cheered then. “I knew if you just gave him a chance…”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re brilliant. I’m not saying I’m gonna mate him up tomorrow or anything. I’m just…yeah, giving him a chance. He’s…nice.”
“So, not a serial killer, then?” she deadpanned, referencing their previous conversation.
“Probably not,” he grumbled, sort of resenting that fact now.
Well, not the fact that he wasn't a serial killer; that was definitely a pro. But he was for sure a little salty that he had to admit Myrah'd been right. “He’s too sweet to be a serial killer. Which is really something, once you meet his parents. But then, he was mostly raised by his grandmother, and she’s awesome.”
“I detect a story there,” she said slowly. “Want to talk about it?”
He shrugged even though she couldn’t see him.
“Not really much of a story. Shitty parents, he moved in with Gran as a teenager.
But listen, I need to…I don't know, bounce my feelings off you?
Have you help keep me from freaking out and cutting things off too quickly?
" It wasn't that he wanted her to talk him out of things at this point, but he also wasn't entirely sure he was ready to hear her to talk him into things. He wasn't sure he was ready to go all-in with Bjorn. He paused then, thinking about what he’d just said. “Wait, I’m insane asking you to be the voice of reason.”
“Hey, that's mean. I’m very reasonable. Now, spill. You already decided to give him a chance. So what part of this is setting you off?”
Honestly, he wasn’t sure. If he knew what was setting him off, he would be able to examine it himself. “Doesn’t it just seem…kinda crazy? I’ve known this guy for like a week, and he basically wants to marry me, and I went and told him he’s welcome to move up to Maryland with me?”
Myrah made an eager noise. “Did you really?”
“Well, sort of. I said if we did this, he could move to me since I can’t move the bar.
Combine that with my agreeing to go on a date with him and…
what if he thinks our second date is going to be picking out rings?
And I don’t even know why I blurted it out in the first place.
What if on this date I suddenly offer to pick out china patterns? ”
“Dennis.” Myrah sighed. “How do you feel? About him?”
Oh, damn, why did she have to ask the hard questions? “I like him,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t get it. It doesn’t make any sense. But I fucking like him, and I have no idea what to do with those feelings because I haven't even known this guy for a week.”
“Why do you need to do anything with them?” she asked in her most reasonable voice. Which, fuck her. “Why can’t you just roll with it?”
“Myrah, I live a controlled life. I like order. I kick people out of the bar who cause chaos. And now there’s this guy who’s pure chaos, shifting wildly, kicking me out of bed -”
“Out of bed?!” she interrupted. “Wait, wait, there’s a story there that I need to hear!”
He grunted. “We have yet to fetch up anywhere that actually had two beds for us. And when he shifts, he’s fucking huge.”
She made a cooing noise. “Oh, I had no idea bear shifters were so well-hung! And I’m loving this visual of you snuggled up to a big ol’ well-hung bear in a tiny bed.”
“I hate you.”
A kissy noise. “You love me. Now, back on topic: is it true that once you officially mate, he’ll be able to control his shift again? That’s what I’ve heard, at least.”
“Well,” Dennis allowed, “yes. But for now, it’s pure madness. He’ll shift mid-conversation. He almost squished his grandmother yesterday.”
“But that’s temporary,” she pointed out. He knew that, he did, but…
“He’s a freelancer. How is someone who takes jobs on the fly going to fit into my day-to-day at the pub?” Because surely that explained his concerns, right? Freelancers didn’t have reliable employment! Their lives were a constant hustle!
“Well, that means he can work from anywhere. So he can chill at the bar and work,” she shot back.
“He leaves shredded clothes all over whenever he shifts?” he tried, no longer sure what point he was even trying to argue.
“Temporary.”
“He can cook!”
A pause. “That’s a…bad thing?” she said doubtfully.
“Well, no.” He sighed. “And he’s fucking hot. He’s got the tightest ass I’ve ever seen, My.”
“Honey, you are zero percent persuading me that he’s a bad idea.”
Fuck. “But I mean, even if I like him, and even if he’s hot as fuck, and even if maybe shifters are starting to grow on me…do I really want to basically marry someone I’ve known less than a week?”
“I don’t know,” she said calmly, “do you?”
“Dammit, Myrah.”
“Well, I don’t know what you want me to say! We became exclusive on our first date, Den. Sometimes, when you know, you know.”
He palmed his forehead. He was getting a headache. “And look how that turned out!”
“Ohhhh.” She drew out the word as if she’d just had a revelation. “You’re scared.”
“I’m not -”
“Look, just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean we weren’t a good match. If I was into men, we’d have been golden. The problem was just that I didn’t figure out I was gay until too late. You can’t use our divorce as an excuse to not get together with your fated mate.”
“But…” Yep, he definitely had a headache.
“I’m not saying you have to let him bite you right this second. I’m just saying don’t write it off too quickly. Go on your date. See how it goes. Let yourself relax around him.”
Why did she have to be so reasonable? “I don’t even know how much longer we have here. Once his Gran is recovered, we need to head back to the cabin we rented and sort out our cars and probably both go home. I only took two weeks off work, and the cabin rental...”
“Dennnn,” she whined. “You just told me he’s a freelancer who can work from anywhere.
Have him come home with you and put him up in a hotel while you get to know each other.
Or just have a long-distance relationship.
Visit each other periodically. You don't have to fall in love, get married, and get divorced all before you come home. You have options!”
The truth was, he didn’t want to split off from Bjorn. He wanted to stay in their little bubble. Though…maybe not in Gran’s house. Having a larger bed and some privacy would be nice.
Oh, what was he thinking?
“Dennis?” Myrah ventured when he’d been silent for a little too long.
“Yeah, I’m here. Just…thinking.” He huffed to himself. “I’m getting used to having him around, you know?”
“That’s a good thing, my darling,” she said gently. “I know you’re not used to liking people, but believe it or not, you’re supposed to like the person you marry. It’s why I married you!”
“Not helping, My.”
She scoffed. “You’re also supposed to want to fuck them. That’s where we went wrong, but it sounds like that’s not an issue for you two.”
Did he want to fuck Bjorn? Oh, yeah, he did. He took a moment to contemplate those plush lips, that hairy chest, that tight ass…hnghh.
He must have made a noise, because Myrah laughed.
“Dennis, I think you’re going to be fine if you just let yourself unclench a little.
Do the date. Stop worrying about doing everything right this second and let yourself sink into the new relationship energy.
Enjoy yourself a little! And…maybe fuck him a few times. Just for fun.”
He had to laugh at that. “If I fuck him, he’s never letting me go. This guy is loyal as a hound. Wait, what if I do fuck him and he bites me in the heat of the moment, before I'm ready?”
“You’re borrowing trouble,” she said with a put-upon sigh. “Does he strike you as the type to lose control like that?”
Well, no, he didn’t, but still! “Not really,” he admitted grudgingly. “But I haven’t seen him turned on, either. Maybe he gets super-intense during sex.”
Myrah cooed. “I’m fanning myself, I want you to know. Thank you for that visual, of a bear of a man being that intense during sexytimes.”
Dennis rolled his eyes. “My, you don’t even like men.”
He could almost see the shrug of her shoulders.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t admire. Now, I’m starving, so I want to go get some brunch.
You wanna talk while I walk there, or are you sufficiently reassured by my reminding you that you have a hot, sweet man on the hook and you should give him a little trust and a lot of sex? ”
“Fuck you, seriously.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘my work is done here’,” she sang. “Love you, bye!” And she hung up, leaving Dennis staring at his phone with a wrinkled brow.
This woman, honestly. She was his best friend, but sometimes he truly wanted to strangle her. With a sigh, he pocketed his phone and went back into the house to check on Gran, happy to find her contentedly ensconced on the couch, still watching her reality show on the TV.
“All well?” she asked when he sat down next to her, and he shrugged.
“Fine, I guess.” He didn’t expand, despite her obvious interest; he didn’t want this woman asking questions about who he’d talked to or about what. What the hell would he tell her then?
Gran hummed lightly, but didn’t push. “I think Bjorn’s almost finished with the food.”
“It’s done!” Bjorn called from the kitchen, proving once again that nothing that went on in this house was private. There was no way they’d ever be able to have sex in Gran’s guest room.
Wait, what? Not that he’d been thinking of having sex in Gran’s guest room in the first place…right?