Chapter 24 Tolin
TOLIN
The morning sun is bright against the snow as we drive into town, and Imani is practically bouncing in her seat beside me. The warmth of her excitement seeps into me, and I feel myself relax.
She’s happy. My mate is happy, and I’m the one who gets to make her happier.
We pass Stanley’s Diner on the way, and I notice the hiring sign that’s been in the window for months is finally gone.
“Looks like they finally found someone,” I say, nodding toward the diner.
Imani glances over. “Finally. That sign’s been up since I moved here.”
“Place is a fated mate magnet.” I shake my head. “Three couples in the last two years alone. Something in the coffee, maybe.”
She laughs. “Maybe I should have gotten a job there instead. Would have saved us both a lot of trouble.”
I reach over and take her hand, bringing it to my lips. “I found you exactly where you were supposed to be.”
I pull into the parking lot of Cozy Corner Furnishings, a big brick building with wide windows displaying living room sets and bedroom furniture. Imani’s eyes go straight to the front window, searching, and I know she’s looking for the green chair.
“It’s still there,” she breathes. “I was worried someone else would buy it.”
“It was waiting for you.”
We get out of the truck, and I take her hand as we walk toward the entrance. The automatic doors slide open, and we step inside.
The store is warm, smelling of wood polish and new fabric. Furniture is arranged in little staged rooms throughout the space. Living rooms, bedrooms, dining areas, nurseries. Everything a person could need to build a home.
A sales associate spots us immediately. She’s young, maybe mid-twenties, with a bright smile that falters the second she gets a good look at me.
I see her recognition. The way her eyes widen, the way she takes a small step back. She knows who I am. Everyone in this town knows who I am.
She turns to whisper something to her coworker, a middle-aged man stacking pillows nearby. He looks up, sees me, and his face goes pale.
“Is that him?” I hear the woman hiss. “The grumpy bear shifter?”
“Just stay calm,” the man whispers back. “Don’t make eye contact. Maybe he’ll leave.”
“I heard he tore up his own cabin once. Ripped the door right off the hinges.”
“I heard he threw a couch through a window.”
“Should we call the manager?”
Imani clutches my hand. Through the bond, I feel her irritation rising, sharp and hot.
She drops my hand and strides toward the two employees, who freeze like deer caught in headlights.
“Excuse me,” she says, her voice pleasant but firm. “Are you going to help us, or should I take my money somewhere else?”
The woman blinks rapidly. “I... we... of course we can help you, ma’am. We just...”
“You just what?” Imani crosses her arms. “Were too busy gossiping to do your jobs?”
“No, ma’am, it’s just...” The woman’s eyes shift to me nervously. “We’ve heard stories about...”
“About my mate?” Imani’s voice goes cool.
“Let me tell you something about the man you’re so scared of.
He carried my car through a blizzard to get it fixed.
He cooks me breakfast every morning even though he burns the eggs half the time.
He held me while I cried about my past and didn’t ask for anything in return.
” She steps closer to them, and both employees lean back.
“He’s the kindest, most loyal, most protective man I’ve ever known.
And if you can’t treat him with basic respect, we’ll be happy to spend our money elsewhere.
I’m sure the furniture store in the next town over would appreciate our business. ”
The employees exchange panicked looks.
“That won’t be necessary,” the man says quickly. “We apologize. Please, let us help you. Whatever you need.”
The woman nods vigorously. “Yes, absolutely. We have a wonderful selection. Can I show you anything specific?”
Imani glances back at me, and I’m still standing there like an idiot, frozen in place by what just happened.
No one has ever defended me before.
Not like that. Not with that kind of fire in their eyes, that kind of certainty. I’m the one everyone in town gossips about. The shifter no one can stand. The grumpy asshole who drives people away.
But Imani just looked two strangers in the eye and told them I was kind. Loyal. Protective.
She believes it. There’s no doubt, no hesitation. She actually believes I’m a good man.
Maybe I’m starting to believe it too.
“Tolin?” She’s watching me with soft eyes. “You coming?”
I cross the store to her side, and when I take her hand again, I bring it to my lips and press a kiss to her knuckles.
“Thank you,” I murmur against her skin.
“For what?”
“For seeing me. The real me.”
Her expression softens even more. “That’s all I’ve ever seen.”
The female employee clears her throat awkwardly. “So, um, what can we help you find today?”
Imani turns to her with a bright smile, the earlier tension already forgotten. “We’re furnishing a whole cabin. Living room, bedroom, dining room.” She squeezes my hand. “The works.”
“Wonderful! Let me show you our living room sets first. We have some beautiful pieces that just came in.”
We follow her through the store, but Imani’s eyes keep drifting to the front window where the green chair sits on display.
“Can we start there?” she asks, pointing. “That chair. I want to see it up close.”
The employee leads us over, and Imani approaches the chair like it’s something sacred. She reaches out and runs her fingers over the velvet, her touch reverent.
“It’s even more beautiful than I remembered,” she whispers.
“Sit in it,” I tell her.
She hesitates. “What if it’s not comfortable? What if I’ve built it up in my head and the reality doesn’t match?”
“Only one way to find out.”
She takes a breath and lowers herself into the chair.
Her whole face transforms. The tension in her shoulders melts away. She leans back into the cushion, runs her hands along the armrests, and lets out a sigh that I feel all the way through the bond.
“It’s perfect,” she says, her eyes going glassy. “Tolin, it’s perfect.”
“Then it’s yours.”
“But we haven’t even looked at the price tag yet. Make sure the price hasn’t changed. Maybe there’s something more practical that...”
“Imani.” I crouch down beside the chair so we’re eye level. “Do you love it?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s yours. End of discussion.”
She laughs, wiping at her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.” I stand and turn to the employee, who’s watching our exchange with a bemused expression. “We’ll take the chair. And whatever else she wants. Show us everything.”
For the next two hours, we walk through the store while Imani picks out furniture for our new home.
A deep brown leather couch that matches the chair.
A solid oak dining table with six chairs because she wants room for family dinners.
A bedroom set in warm cherry wood with a bed big enough for both of us and then some.
Every time she hesitates over a price tag, I tell the employee to add it to the list.
Every time she tries to talk me out of something, I remind her that this is non-negotiable.
By the time we’ve made it through the main showroom, we have enough furniture to fill three cabins. Imani is flushed and overwhelmed, clutching my hand like she can’t quite believe this is happening.
“I think that’s everything,” she says, a little breathless. “We should probably stop.”
“Not yet.” I steer her toward a section of the store we haven’t visited. “One more stop.”
She looks up at the sign above the display area and freezes.
Nursery.
“Tolin...”
“Just looking.” I keep my voice casual, but I can’t quite hide the smile playing at my lips. “For future reference.”
She lets me lead her into the nursery section, past cribs and changing tables and rocking chairs. Tiny furniture for tiny people. Our tiny people, someday.
“What do you think of this one?” I stop in front of a crib made of light maple, sturdy and simple. “Good for a cub?”
“We’re not even...” She trails off, her cheeks flushing pink. “We haven’t talked about...”
“Haven’t we?” I turn to face her, resting my hands on her hips. “You asked me about children. I told you I’d give you as many as you wanted.”
“I know, but that was theoretical. We’re not... I’m not...”
I slide my hand from her hip to her belly, pressing my palm flat against her stomach.
“You’re going to give me cubs soon,” I tell her, keeping my voice low. “I can feel it. My bear can feel it. And when you do, I want to be ready. I want them to have everything they need.”
Her blush deepens. “You can’t just say things like that in public.”
“Why not? It’s true.” I pat her belly gently. “Pick out what you like. When the time comes, we’ll already have it.”
She stares at me for a long moment, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Then she laughs, shaking her head.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Probably.”
“And presumptuous.”
“Definitely.”
“And I love you anyway.”
“I know.” I kiss her forehead. “Now pick out a crib before I buy the whole section.”
She picks out a crib, a changing table, and a rocking chair that she says reminds her of the one in my mother’s cabin. I add a dresser and a bookshelf because our cubs are going to have books, lots of them.
By the time we’re done, the sales associates are looking at us with something like awe. The grumpy bear just spent more money in one afternoon than most people spend in a year.
Let them stare. Let them whisper. My mate is getting everything she ever dreamed of, and I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks about it.
We arrange for delivery to the clan, and I pay without letting Imani see the total. She’d probably faint, and I don’t need her passing out in the middle of a furniture store.
When we finally walk out to the truck, she’s quiet, processing. Happiness. Disbelief. Overwhelm.
“You okay?” I ask as I help her into the passenger seat.