Chapter Seventeen – Meryl
Meryl opened her eyes to the same cracked ceiling. But everything had changed.
Last night... Had it been a dream? No, it wasn’t a dream.
Spencer’s arm lay heavy across her waist, warm and real.
But as Meryl stared at the ceiling, her heartbeat quickened as memories from the night before rushed back, not just the intimacy between them, but the impossible thing she had witnessed.
Spencer had transformed into a bear. Right in front of her. In her garden.
She turned her head slowly to look at him, studying his sleeping face. The same strong jaw, the same dark hair falling across his forehead, the same man who had repaired her porch and kissed her in the kitchen. Except he wasn’t just a man.
A bear shifter. The words still felt foreign in her mind.
Her gaze traced the curve of his shoulder, the rise and fall of his chest. The body pressed against hers was entirely human now, but she couldn’t shake the image of him standing in the moonlight, shifting into something massive and impossible before her eyes.
And she had stayed.
That realization hit her with sudden clarity. No one had forced her. No one had even persuaded her. When faced with the impossible, she had chosen not to run. She had chosen him, despite everything.
Spencer stirred beside her, his arm tightening slightly around her waist. Meryl held her breath, not ready yet for conversation, for the questions that would inevitably follow. She needed to process this on her own terms first.
Carefully, she slid out from under his arm and padded quietly to the bathroom. The cool floorboards against her bare feet felt grounding, normal, when everything else had shifted into something she couldn’t quite comprehend.
In the bathroom mirror, she looked the same, hair tousled from sleep and other things. But she felt different, as if the world had expanded overnight to include possibilities she’d never considered.
The shower helped. Hot water streaming over her shoulders, washing away the physical remnants of the night while leaving the memories intact. By the time she stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel, she felt more capable of facing what waited for her in the bedroom.
And there he was.
Spencer was sitting up when she returned, the sheet pooled around his waist. Morning light slanted across his bare chest, highlighting the breadth of his shoulders.
“Morning,” he said, his voice low.
“Morning,” she replied, clutching her towel a little tighter. “I, um... needed a shower.”
His eyes never left her face. “Are you okay?”
How was she supposed to answer that? Hell, she wasn’t even sure what he meant.
Was she okay with what he’d told her? With what he’d shown her? With what had happened between them after?
“I think so,” she said, surprised to find it wasn’t a lie. That she was pretty much okay with everything. That didn’t mean her head wasn’t full of questions. “It’s a lot to process.”
Spencer nodded. “I know.”
“You’re really a... bear.” She couldn’t quite keep the question out of her voice, even though she’d seen it with her own eyes.
“Yes.”
“How?” She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I vaguely remember us having some kind of conversation last night, but it’s all a blur.”
“That’s okay. We can go over it all again as many times as you want.” He took a breath. “It’s a gene passed down through the generations. I got mine from my father.”
“So, your brothers?” Meryl asked, remembering how kind and welcoming they all were last night at the restaurant.
“Yes. All of them.” He nodded, seeming pleased she had at least recalled something of their conversation last night. “The first shift normally happens around puberty.”
Meryl looked down at the steam rising from her coffee. Their fingers brushed, and she didn’t pull away. He looked relieved.
“Thank you,” he said, “for not running.”
“I almost did,” she admitted.
“But you didn’t.”
“No.” She looked down at her coffee. “I didn’t.”
They settled at the small table Spencer had set up for their impromptu dinner a couple of nights ago. Wow, was that all it was? It seemed like a lifetime ago now.
The silence stretched on, but just as it was about to get awkward, her phone beeped with a notification.
“I should check my email.” She stood up abruptly, needing a moment to recalibrate. “I’m expecting an email from a client.”
“Go ahead.” Spencer nodded. “I’ll make some breakfast.”
In the living room, Meryl opened her laptop and tried to focus on the screen in front of her. She scanned her inbox. Most were routine, client feedback, newsletter subscriptions, and reminders about invoices.
But one caught her eye immediately. The sender was Lou Harrington, creative director at Atelier, a leading design group. The subject line read simply: Perfect opportunity for you.
Meryl’s heart skipped. Atelier was prestigious, the kind of firm that could elevate a freelancer’s career overnight. She’d done a small project for them last year, some branding work for a boutique hotel chain, but nothing that should have put Lou’s radar on anything significant.
She clicked on the email, pulse quickening.
Meryl,
I hope this finds you well and you’re nearing the end of your little renovation project. And I have an offer for you.
Your work on the Methurst Hotels project last year left a strong impression.
We’ve just landed a major client, Wentwood Development Group, for a complete rebrand and environmental design package across their luxury property portfolio. The scope includes everything from brand identity to wayfinding systems for twenty properties worldwide.
We’re looking for someone to lead the environmental design components, working closely with our in-house team. And my first thought was you.
The timeline would be approximately eight months, starting in three weeks, which I believe would tie in with your renovation project ending. Compensation would be substantial (details attached), and while some work could be done remotely, much of the work would be in-house here.
I know this is somewhat out of the blue, but sometimes timing is everything. If you’re interested, I’d love to set up a call early next week to discuss further.
Best, Lou
Meryl stared at the screen, reading the email twice more.
This wasn’t just a job, it was the kind of career-defining opportunity she’d been working toward for years.
The kind that would establish her firmly in the upper echelons of environmental design, with connections and credibility that would secure her future for years to come.
Two weeks ago, she would have replied immediately, probably with too many exclamation points. She would have started packing mentally, already planning how quickly she could wrap up the Pine Cottage project and move on.
Now, she felt something twist in her chest.
From the kitchen came the domestic sounds of Spencer cooking, the quiet sizzle of something in a pan, the clink of a utensil against the stovetop of the newly repaired range. The scent of coffee and food filled the cottage, making it feel lived-in and warm.
She glanced toward the window. She could see the edge of the porch they’d rebuilt, the garden where Spencer had revealed his true nature to her.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
“Everything okay?” Spencer’s voice came from the doorway.
Meryl looked up, startled. She hadn’t heard him approach.
“Yes,” she said automatically, then: “No. I don’t know.”
Spencer set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast on the side table near her. “Work stuff?”
“A job offer,” she said, turning the screen slightly so he could see. “A big one. With Atelier, they’re a big design group based on the west coast. Some of the work can be done remotely, but the rest is in-house.”
She watched his face carefully. Something flickered in his eyes, concern, resignation, she couldn’t quite tell, but he kept his expression neutral.
“That sounds like an opportunity you don’t want to miss,” he said.
“It is.” Meryl closed the laptop slowly. “It’s the kind of opportunity that doesn’t come along very often.”
Spencer nodded, his body language subtly shifting. He took a small step back, his shoulders tensing slightly. “When would it start?”
“Three weeks.”
The silence that followed felt heavier than before.
“You should eat,” he said finally, gesturing to the plate. “Before it gets cold.”
Meryl reached for the food, but her appetite had vanished. The eggs tasted like nothing in her mouth. She set her fork down after a few bites.
“I need to think about it,” she said.
“Of course.” Spencer’s voice was carefully even.
“It’s just, this is what I do,” she continued, needing him to understand. “This is my work. My career. What I’m good at.”
“I know.” He met her gaze directly. “I’ve seen your designs. You’re very talented, Meryl. So I’m not surprised at all that you got such a good offer.”
Something about his simple acknowledgment made her throat tighten. He wasn’t trying to hold her back or make her choose. He was just... there. Supportive as always, even as she wrestled with a decision that could take her away from him.
“I should respond at least,” she said, opening the laptop again. “Let Lou know I received it.”
Spencer nodded. “I’ll give you some space.”
He moved toward the door, and Meryl felt a sudden panic rise in her chest. “You don’t have to go.”
“I’m just going to check on something on the porch,” he said. “I’ll be right outside.”
When he was gone, Meryl stared at the email again. Her fingers moved to the keyboard, typing a polite, professional response that acknowledged the opportunity without committing to anything yet.
Thank you for thinking of me for this exciting project. I’d be happy to discuss it further. I’m available for a call early next week...
She added her availability, reread the message twice, then hit send before she could overthink it.
Closing the laptop, she moved to the window. Spencer was on the porch, examining one of the support posts they’d replaced. The morning sun caught in his dark hair, highlighting the breadth of his shoulders as he crouched to check something at the base of the post.
Last night, those shoulders had been covered in thick fur. Those hands had been massive paws.
And yet, watching him now, all she could see was Spencer, the man who had patiently rebuilt her porch, installed salvaged brass fixtures, and kissed her in the kitchen as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
The man who had shown her his deepest secret and given her the space to decide what to do with it.
She opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. Spencer looked up immediately.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“I responded to the email,” she said. “I’m going to talk to them next week.”
He nodded, his expression careful. “That makes sense.”
“Spencer...” She moved closer, needing him to understand. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”
“I know. You take all the time you need.”
“But I need you to know that...” Her voice caught.
Spencer looked at her for a long moment, then gave the smallest nod.
“I know,” he said.
That should have made it easier.
Instead, Meryl stood there on the porch, feeling the distance between them and not knowing how to close it.