Chapter 12
JOY
We’re settling into a morning routine already, making coffee and breakfast together while pretending to get in each other’s way. I love it. It feels wholesome.
Meanwhile, my body feels totally altered by the slightly less-than-wholesome activities of last night. I feel transformed. Like, I finally understand what half of the world’s singers have been talking about for years.
In the middle of buttering thick slices of toasted whole wheat and oat bread, Bear murmurs, “Your phone is flashing.”
I glance over to where it’s plugged into one of his charging cables at the far end of the counter. It’s the only person who texts me with any kind of regularity.
Carl: Are you okay after that storm?
Carl: Who is that guy you were seen grocery shopping with?
How charming that he waits so long to check on me. Would he have even checked at all, if it weren’t for his curiosity about the guy?
Me: I’m fine. I was shopping with a friend. See you in a few days.
Carl: Okay. Be safe.
It feels odd calling Bear a friend, but there’s really no other appropriate word right now.
Does any language have a word for “the guy I met three days ago and am already sleeping with, and I’m afraid it’s probably a short term thing, but I can’t help thinking that I want this to be forever because he’s amazing”?
As I set the phone down, Bear holds out his hand. “May I put my number in?” His eyes are practically glowing. Considering how little he seems to like talking to people, it feels like a big deal.
I hand over the phone and watch as his thick thumbs carefully enter a contact for “Bear Emerick Wolfe” with his number and email. Then he texts himself a message that just reads “Joy.”
It’s a simple gesture, yet it fills me with hope there’s a real chance of this working out.
After we eat, we get comfortable on the back porch again. “Do you ever get used to this incredible mountain air?” I ask.
Bear snorts. “To me, it’s just air.” He reaches out to run his fingers along the back of my neck in a way that leaves me tingling. “City air is dirty and substandard. This is the only air that is correct.”
I laugh out loud. “You’re an air expert?”
He smirks. Before he can speak again, there's an odd vibration, like a trapped cricket. He throws me an apologetic look. "Sorry. Always have my phone on. I'm an emergency call for a lot of people." He clearly thinks of this as an annoyance. I see it as an admirable trait.
His entire body slumps after reading what looks like a string of texts.
"Is everything okay?" I murmur sympathetically.
His thumb flips across the screen and his jaw grows increasingly tense. “Shit,” he mutters.
“If you need me to leave, it’s not a problem at all.”
His heavy hand lands on my knee. “I do not want you to leave.” He sighs heavily. “But they’ve already gone through the rest of us.”
“Gone through?”
“Yeah. The tech bros are all at some hifalutin’ conference. Uncle Carver’s sons are all busy with important projects. Uncle Anton’s sons can’t even be reached today.”
My brain spins, wondering what could be so awful that it’s making him grimace like that. “Is it something I can help with? Or at least help you prepare for?”
There’s a twinkle in Bear’s eye as he leaps to his feet, gripping my hand to help me up. “Yes. You can come with me. It’ll make it less terrible.”
OMG – what did I just volunteer for? “Please tell me what we’re doing, so I know what to wear.”
His warm palm runs along my lower back. “Wear whatever is comfortable to be my assistant for the afternoon.” His eyes roll dramatically. “They insist on having a Wolfe as part of the judging panel for the CCCC.”
My eyes widen. “The…what?”
He sighs heavily again. “The Cedarvale Cupcake and Cookie Contest.”