Chapter Four
Pascal
Our high-tech way of exchanging keys for the house was mind-blowing.
I picked up the plant pot, currently empty, and there was the key.
James and I had a system. It had worked so far but it might be the last time I ever came home to this place.
My soul had been tugged in two directions in the past few months.
Part of me wanted to sell everything in Oliver Creek and move on.
With my investments and businesses abroad, I spent a lot of time on the road, not even in this country.
But the other half of me held onto this home. More a house than a home, but it anchored me somehow. There was a reason, beyond my understanding, of why I held onto this house. Held onto my residency in this town.
Coming back and seeing all the progress, maybe there was something in store for me here. I would have to explore that scenario more.
Sighing, I went inside and put my suitcase by the front door.
Nothing had changed. The surfaces of the tables were bare and freshly dusted.
A wall of built-in bookshelves held books I no longer had an interest in.
The couch had a dip where James must have liked to sit but, other than that, it looked fresh off the salesroom floor.
The air smelled of cleaning chemicals and the faint scent of my bear shifter friend.
He was a bit of a wanderer, so, in between my work-related trips, he often couch-surfed with his friends and traveled around the country, something I hadn’t done myself but wanted to.
I’d visited a lot of countries but had never been to Glacier National Park.
I longed to see the colored rocks beneath the glass of the clear water. Maybe one day.
I changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Oliver Creek was miles more casual than many places I’d been, and it was one thing I was grateful for.
The fridge was empty, so, after a tour of the house, I decided to make a list on my phone and go for groceries. I loved to eat out, but after nothing but restaurant meals for months, all I wanted was some simple home-cooked food.
A new market was within walking distance as was most of the places in Oliver Creek. That was one thing I loved. The last time I was here, I’d only stayed a few nights, and now, I wondered how I’d missed all the changes.
The entire town was more alive. Buildings and houses were freshly painted with bright colors and whimsical features that made me want to keep walking. It also gave me ideas. If I did choose to keep my home here, I wanted to do something with it. Make it match the cheer and happiness of the others.
On the way to the market, my bear nudged me in the direction of the Trash Panda.
Such a cute name, even though it was what humans and many shifters called raccoons.
Didn’t know if they meant it as a dig or something adorable but, to me, the sign on the front with a raccoon was great for getting customers in.
It even had me wondering if there was something for me inside. A treasure I didn’t even know I wanted.
As I passed, I slowed at movement inside. But it wasn’t the customers sliding hangers along the metal poles or picking up trinkets that caught my attention.
It was the man behind the counter. I stared through the main window as he folded clothes and arranged things in between checking out customers. He smiled and nodded, but, once they were gone, his shoulders relaxed.
Being around people wasn’t his first nature.
I noticed his behavior, but what first struck me was how beautiful he was. Longer hair. Deep brown eyes. A slender figure from what I could see from here. My bear urged me on, wanting me to go inside. Meet him. Ask him something. Say something funny to make him smile again.
Anything to have an interaction with him.
I’d never had my bear be so interested in someone before.
Not like this.
The store owner, or I assumed the owner, looked up as though he could hear me thinking about him. As soon as his brown eyes met mine, they widened, and before I could smile or wave, he was gone—ducked behind the counter and nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps I’d scared him.
Maybe he had anxiety or was shy.
Either way, the last thing I wanted to do was to make him more nervous or frightened. I ignored my bear’s growls and went to the market.
One day, I would come back and go inside, pretending to shop for something but really wanting to meet the man behind the counter.
And hopefully, next time, not scare the crap out of him.