Chapter Five-Ryan
Firehouse Living Room, Castor’s Corner
There’s pining, and then there’s me—sitting on a half-deflated couch cushion, staring blankly at a cold cup of coffee, wondering what the fucking hell is wrong with me.
It’s not like I haven’t been around women before.
I’ve had flings.
I’ve had things.
Hell, I’ve had one-night stands that stretched into three-day weekends.
But Donatella Andrews?
She’s not a thing.
She’s the thing.
My Bear knows it.
Has known it since the second we stepped foot in this magical madhouse of a town.
She’s it.
Our mate.
Our future.
The problem?
She won’t give me the damned time of day.
“I take it this is your pining in silence phase?”
Jaxson’s voice cut through my self-loathing like a buzz saw through kindling.
I looked up to find the smug bastard leaning against the doorjamb like some Abercrombie ad for municipal authority.
New Sheriff badge gleaming, aviators tucked into his front pocket, and that annoying alpha male smirk plastered across his face.
“What are you doing here?” I grumbled. “Didn’t you move out with your mate into that love shack of yours?”
“Sure did,” he said, strolling in like he owned the place. “But I left my flannel hoodie here and came back for it. Then I saw you staring into space like a rejected country song and figured I’d check in.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need a therapist in tight jeans. Cute. You thinking about joining a boy band next?”
“Come on, Ry,” Jaxson flopped into the chair across from me, lacing his hands behind his head. “I’ve been where you are. Evie had me doing backflips before she even admitted we were mates. It sucks. I get it.”
I snorted. “Evie practically tackled you in front of the whole town.”
Jaxson lifted a brow.
“Tackled me? Yeah, right. More like she sprayed me with magical mace, gave me the silent treatment like I was some kind of awful ex, and then hexed my zipper shut when she turned me down the first few times. Hell, I earned my happily ever after.”
“Sounds romantic,” I muttered, rubbing my face.
“It was,” he said smugly. “So what’s your game plan with Donny? Or are you just planning on flexing your biceps near the bakery until she notices?”
I grunted.
“If that worked, she’d be mine already. I bake. I fight fires. I rescued her from literal divine lightning. And still? Nothing. Nada. Zip.”
Jaxson grinned.
“So, you’re saying she’s immune to charm, heroics, and carbs? Damn, she really is powerful.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, hating how defeated I sounded. “I’m big, I’m awkward, I don’t know anything about hair or fashion or whatever the heck she’s into. And she’s just so—”
“Deadly?” Jaxson offered.
“Sweet. Beautiful,” I said.
“Scary,” Jaxson said at the same time.
I gave him a look.
“Come on, man. You’ve met her, right? That Witch could melt titanium with her sass. She made a vending machine cry last week because it ate her dollar.”
Before I could do more than snarl my response, thump—Conrad strolled in like he’d just slithered out of a sauna.
Shirtless. Again.
What was with Snake Shifters and their aversion to clothes?
“Don’t kill the Wolf,” the Python drawled lazily. “He’s the Sheriff now, remember? We’re supposed to be integrating.”
“I wasn’t gonna kill him,” I grunted.
“Good. So. You want Donny’s attention?” Conrad said, heading straight for the fridge.
“No, I’m just emotionally torturing myself for fun,” I snapped.
Conrad pulled out a leftover meatball sub and waved it like a conductor’s baton.
“Then stop being a dumbass. You want to get her attention? Get her alone.”
“Sure. Great. I’ll just accidentally trap her in an elevator next time we’re both at Town Hall.”
Jaxson snorted.
“Not the worst idea. Made me some fine memories in that elevator.”
“Oh my fuck, shut up. I think I might hurl.”
Lucky for me, Conrad ignored us both and continued.
“She’s a stylist, dipshit. She owns a salon.”
“And?” I raised a brow.
“And you look like a lumberjack who lost a bet. Go get a haircut. A shave too while you’re at it.”
“Huh?”
“Are all Bears slow? Book an appointment, son. Sit your ass in her chair and give her thirty uninterrupted minutes of Bear Shifter intensity. Hit her with all that growly goodness up close and personal.”
Jaxson snapped his fingers.
“Conrad’s got a point. You’re a hot mess. Let Donny work her magic on you.”
I blinked. “You think she’d go for that?”
“Think?” Conrad said. “I know. Women like Donny want to feel useful. You show up looking like a sexy yeti and ask for help? That’s bait, my man.”
“And bonus,” Jaxson added, “You’ll finally stop looking like you escaped from a log cabin in the woods where you’ve been writing angry poetry and collecting beard oil.”
I flipped them both off but couldn't stop the slow, creeping grin that took over my face.
“Fine. I’ll make the damn appointment.”
“Good,” Conrad said. “Just don’t let her shave off your eyebrows in revenge. You did hose her down with cold water in front of half the town.”
I groaned.
“Fuck me.”
Jaxson slapped my shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine, Ry. Just try not to growl during the shampoo. That’s how I got banned from two salons back in Colorado.”
And that was how I found myself scheduling a haircut with the Witch of my dreams, praying I wouldn’t accidentally shift when she touched my scalp.
Freaking hell.
What could possibly go wrong?