Chapter Thirteen – Michael
We’re going on a date with our mate, Michael’s bear said happily.
It’s not a date, Michael insisted as he studied his reflection in the mirror. He’d changed shirts twice already, and his bear found the whole process amusing.
Does it matter? his bear asked with a chuckle. You’ll be wearing a jacket and hat anyway.
Michael took the dark blue button-up from his closet, eyeing it critically. It wasn’t too formal, but it wasn’t casual either. Just right for Cocoa and Carols.
But what if I invite her for a drink afterward? he asked, smoothing down the front of his shirt.
His bear huffed happily. Then that would be a date.
Michael sighed and slipped his arms into the shirt sleeves.
His bear was right. He’d be bundled up in winter gear, and the chances of this evening ending in anything more than shared cocoa were slim.
Sarah would have Emmy with her, and even if she didn’t, would she want to spend more time with him after the festival?
The memory of their almost-kiss made his chest tighten. They’d been so close. If James hadn’t shown up with the snowplow...
Somehow, he needed to figure out how to ask Sarah out properly.
Not something he was an expert at. Dating was hard when you knew the person was not your mate.
So he, like his friends, had shied away from it as they’d gotten older.
When he asked Sarah out, he needed to get it right.
He needed to make sure he wasn’t putting pressure on her.
It was obvious she’d been hurt badly and let down by her ex-husband.
We would never let her down, his bear said firmly.
No, we would not, ever, Michael agreed, buttoning his shirt. But I don’t think Sarah is going to believe that from a person she has just met.
She might, his bear suggested, if you tell her we are mates.
Michael mulled this over as he took a final look in the mirror. The idea of telling Sarah about shifters, about mates, about the bond he already felt between them made his palms sweat. What if she ran? What if she thought he was crazy? Worse, what if she rejected him?
He headed downstairs, slipping on his well-worn boots before shrugging into his favorite jacket.
The knit cap was next, tugged down over his ears, though he didn’t really need it.
His shifter blood kept him warm even in the harshest winter weather, but appearances mattered in a town where not everyone knew about shifters.
Outside, snow crunched beneath his boots as he made his way to his truck.
He paused for a moment, taking in the scene before him.
The full moon hung low and heavy in the sky, its light turning the snow-covered landscape into a sea of diamonds.
The mountains rose in the distance, dark silhouettes against the star-filled sky.
It was magical, and Michael wished Sarah were beside him to share it.
And Emmy, his bear added, the image forming in both their minds of Sarah’s daughter riding on his bear’s back through the snowy forest, her small hands buried in his thick fur, her laughter echoing through the trees.
The thought warmed him as he climbed into his truck and started the engine.
The roads into town had been plowed, making the drive easy despite the recent heavy snowfall.
As he neared Bear Creek, he could see people already milling about, all heading toward the town square for the lighting of the Christmas tree and the Cocoa and Carols event.
It was one of the biggest celebrations in Bear Creek, the unofficial start of the holiday season. The whole town turned out for it, bundled in winter gear, carrying thermoses and blankets, ready to sing carols around the massive town square tree.
Michael found a spot down a side road and parked, joining the flow of townspeople making their way to the square.
He nodded and smiled as people greeted him, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces.
Most families in Bear Creek got their Christmas trees from North Peak Pines, making him something of a local celebrity during the holiday season.
He’d just reached Main Street when it happened…that now-familiar tingle at the base of his spine, the warmth blooming in his chest, the way his senses suddenly sharpened and focused. Sarah was nearby. He could feel it, that invisible thread connecting them pulling taut as it drew him toward her.
His bear stirred, alert and eager, as Michael scanned the crowd. He didn’t see her yet, but he knew she was close. The knowledge made his heart beat faster.
“Michael! Wait up!”
He turned to see Daniel approaching with Maisie and Teddy, both children rosy-cheeked and energetic as they threw snowballs at each other and skidded on patches of ice.
“Careful, you two,” Daniel called half-heartedly, knowing the warning would be ignored. He fell into step beside Michael, lowering his voice. “So, a little bird told me you got snowed in with your mate.”
Michael couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “I did. I have never been more grateful for a snowstorm.” He paused, chuckling. “Even though it did mean I didn’t sell any Christmas trees.”
Daniel laughed, eyes dancing with his usual good humor. “And she’s going to be here tonight?”
Michael’s focus went distant as that pull intensified. “She’s here already.”
“You can sense her through all these people?” Daniel asked, glancing around the crowded street, a note of wistful longing in his voice.
“Oh yeah,” Michael said, his voice softening. “She’s like a beacon in the night.”
He looked at his friend, recognizing the mixture of happiness and envy in Daniel’s expression. “And one day you’re going to know the feeling.”
Daniel sighed, hands deep in his pockets. “Man, I hope so. I hope we all do.”
They reached the town square, already packed with people admiring the unlit tree. Michael’s eyes swept the crowd, his bear’s senses helping him filter through the sea of faces until…there. Sarah stood near the cocoa stand with Emmy and Pat, all three of them bundled in colorful winter gear.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” Michael told Daniel, already moving toward Sarah, though he tried to make his approach seem casual rather than the magnetic pull it actually was.
But there was nothing casual about the way he felt about her. Nothing casual at all.
Sarah glanced up, and her eyes met his from across the square. Michael’s heart did a strange little skip he hadn’t felt…ever. She smiled, and his stomach flipped.
“Michael!” Emmy spotted him and waved enthusiastically, jumping up and down in her puffy coat.
He made his way through the crowd, trying to keep his pace measured even as his bear urged him forward faster. When he reached them, he had to resist the urge to pull Sarah into his arms. Instead, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded at Pat.
“Evening, ladies. Enjoying the festivities?”
“It’s wonderful,” Pat said, her knowing eyes flicking between him and Sarah. “Emmy was just saying she hopes they have marshmallows for the cocoa.”
“And sprinkles!” Emmy confirmed, her eyes wide with anticipation.
Sarah adjusted her scarf, and Michael caught the scent of her, making his mouth water more than the thought of hot cocoa and marshmallows.
His bear inhaled deeply, savoring it. Sweeter than honey.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Michael said, his voice coming out lower than he intended. He cleared his throat. “The official tree lighting should start soon.”
“Emmy’s been talking about it all day,” Sarah replied as a slight flush colored her cheeks.
Their eyes held for a moment too long. Michael’s mind flashed back to that perfect moment after the snowstorm, the way her breath had clouded between them, how close her lips had been to his before James’s snowplow had shattered the silence.
They grabbed their cocoa, with extra sprinkles, and moved through the crowd toward the tree, where they found a spot where Emmy could get a good view.
“Oh, this is so good!” Emmy said as she ate marshmallows and whipped cream. “I want to come to Cocoa and Carols every year.”
Then Mayor Wilson’s voice boomed through the speakers set up around the square. “Ladies and gentlemen! If I could have your attention, please! The lighting ceremony will begin in five minutes!”
As the mayor’s voice echoed through the square, people pressed forward for a better view.
The crowd surged suddenly, jostling Sarah.
She stumbled against Michael, her shoulder bumping into his chest. Without thinking, he steadied her with his hand at her elbow, then let his arm slide naturally around her shoulders.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured, prepared to remove his arm immediately.
But Sarah didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned slightly into him, her body warm against his side.
Michael’s heart hammered in his chest as they stood there, connected in a way that felt both casual and monumental.
The weight of her against him, trusting and close, made it hard to focus on anything else.
“Look, Mom! The star!” Emmy’s voice cut through his thoughts as she pointed excitedly toward the top of the massive tree.
Michael reluctantly dropped his arm, letting it fall back to his side.
He wanted nothing more than to pull her back, to hold her against the December chill and never let go. To tell her everything, about his bear, about mates, about how he’d recognized her the moment he saw her across the snow-covered yard at North Peak Pines.
The time had better come soon, his bear growled impatiently inside him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mayor Wilson’s voice boomed through the speakers. “It’s time for the official lighting of the Bear Creek Christmas tree! Let’s count down together!”
Emmy bounced on her toes, her mittened hands clutching Sarah’s arm. “This is it, Mom! This is it!”
“TEN!” the crowd shouted in unison.
Michael watched Sarah’s face, illuminated by the moonlight and the glow of nearby lanterns. She looked happy—truly happy—as she joined in the countdown with Emmy.
“NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN!”
Emmy’s excitement was contagious, her entire body vibrating with anticipation as she shouted the numbers at the top of her lungs.
“SIX! FIVE! FOUR!”
Michael found himself counting, too, caught up in the collective enthusiasm of his town, of his people. Of his mate and her daughter standing beside him.
“THREE! TWO! ONE!”
The square plunged into darkness for a split second before thousands of twinkling lights blazed to life on the massive spruce. The star at the top burst with golden light, casting its glow across the upturned faces of the crowd. A massive cheer erupted as people clapped and whistled.
Emmy let out a squeal of delight, jumping up and down. “It’s so beautiful! Mom, look! Look!”
Sarah turned to Michael, her face radiant in the glow of the Christmas lights. Her smile was so full of wonder that it stole his breath. He couldn’t help smiling back, his chest tight with emotion.
“Thank you,” she mouthed over the noise of the crowd.
“For what?” he asked, leaning closer to be heard.
“For this,” she replied, gesturing to the tree, to Emmy’s excitement, to the festive square. “For making our first Bear Creek Christmas so special.”
Before Michael could respond, the town choir began to sing, their harmonized voices rising above the crowd in the first notes of “Silent Night.” People hushed each other, turning toward the gazebo where the singers stood in neat rows, their faces illuminated by candlelight.
Emmy slipped between them, taking Michael’s hand in one of hers and Sarah’s in the other. The simple gesture—so trusting, so natural—made his throat tighten with emotion.
His bear rumbled contentedly inside him. Our family.
Not yet, Michael cautioned. But someday soon.
And then they would have forever.