The Grizzly Who Stole Christmas

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Boone

“You gotta be goddamn kidding me,” I growl as I turn the bend and see a mess of cars on the road.

“Move!” I holler, slamming my fist down on the horn.

I see heads popping up and eyes looking at me in rear view mirrors. “Move!”

They don’t move. It’s a traffic jam.

A traffic jam in my little mountain town. Un-fucking-believable.

My heart hammers in my chest as I sit here stewing, looking at all of the stupid fucking Christmas decorations. I hate December. I hate this whole moronic season with the annoying lights, irritating music, dumb stories, and sparkling crap hung up on light posts.

I don’t understand any of it.

Normally, I spend all of December hiding in my remote cabin on the mountain, hiding from all of this nuisance, this migraine waiting to happen, but I’m missing some supplies so I was forced to head into this jam-packed town.

There are tourists everywhere.

The only thing I hate more than Christmas is tourists. No, that’s not true. I hate Christmas more.

“Come on,” I growl, squeezing my steering wheel as the cars inch forward.

These festive people descend on my little town like locusts this time of year. Look at them, crowding the restaurants, filling the stores, walking down my streets with bags and bags full of crap. I hate it.

My inner grizzly on the other hand, is excited. He’s perked up inside me, trying to sniff the air, trying to catch a whiff of our mate. All the new people in town has him all cheery and hopeful that he’s going to find her.

“Never going to happen,” I grumble, trying to snuff out his optimism. She’s not coming and even if she was, I wouldn’t want anything to do with her.

I like my solitude. I like being alone, just me, in my cabin, fishing, hunting, trapping game and sitting in silence. The last thing I need is a woman around who will demand all of my time and won’t ever stop yapping in my ear. I need that like I need this goddamn traffic jam.

“Fuck,” I growl when I finally inch around the corner and see all the cars waiting to get into my lane. Where are they all coming from? This is a nightmare.

Everywhere I look, it’s just red brake lights and exhaust smoke drifting up into the cold air.

The other eleven months of the year, I can zoom around these streets, no problem. There’s still people—still too many people for my taste—but it’s bearable, at least. This however… This is enraging.

“Fuck this,” I growl as I yank my truck to the side and drive on the snow-covered grass. Someone honks at me, so I throw up my middle finger, not caring who sees it. It’s for all of them.

I cut through the town square, grinning when I see a few people scatter out of my way. One guy leaps into the snow and it makes me chuckle.

I pass the massive tree they put up every year. There must be a billion trees in these mountains, but for some reason that I’ll never understand, they cut a beautiful majestic pine tree down and put it in the town square, stringing it up with lights and decorations. It’s madness.

I park right there in the town square, my truck perched up on a snowbank like I own the place.

“What the hell?” some lady complains as I get out, stepping into the crunchy snow. “You could have killed someone!”

“But I didn’t,” I grumble, glaring at her. “So, what’s your problem?”

I slam my door closed and lock it.

“Be more careful when you’re driving in town,” she says. “Asshole.”

“This is my town,” I grumble as I walk by, shooting her a dirty look. “I don’t need to be told how to drive in it by tourists.”

I’ve lived here my whole life. She’s probably been her for eight hours.

I shove my hands in my pockets and start walking to Steve’s General Store, trying to ignore all the happy people around me.

My bear is in full-on giddy mode, pacing around and whimpering to get out. All the smells… All the new people… It’s getting him all joyful and upbeat. He really thinks his mate is in this crowd… What a dope.

Even if I did have a mate out here—which I don’t—I wouldn’t want any woman who celebrates this moronic holiday. No, thank you.

I feel my grizzly inside, prancing to the surface, asking, no begging, to be let out.

Fuck off, I tell him. Not going to happen.

He whimpers and circles inside, not taking no for an answer.

What the fuck did I say, I roar at him. Stop making this shitty day worse.

He continues pacing. He doesn’t ask again, but he doesn’t go too far either.

I suck in a breath and curse when I see how packed Steve’s General Store is.

“You gotta be shitting me,” I whisper when the lady at the door says that I have to wait in line to get in.

Wait. In. Line.

I’m going to have a freaking stroke.

It hasn’t always been like this. I’ve been living here my whole life, but over the past five years, this town has gone downhill fast.

It all happened when this damn reporter—Veronica Weaver—wrote an article about our town for a popular tourist magazine. It brought so much damn attention to this town, and it brought a lot of investment money too.

All of a sudden, there were hotels and inns going up, and the park was being revitalized, and new restaurants and shops and activities for the tourists kept popping up everywhere like weeds.

This town—Wildpeak Village—is now homebase to three ski hills in the area and a magnet for annoying people who love Christmas.

“Screw this,” I grumble as I leave the line and burst past the lady guarding the door.

“Hey!” she says. “You have to wait in line.”

This is my town. I don’t wait in line.

Inside is so crowded, I get heart palpitations. People are everywhere, grabbing shit off the racks like it’s the end of the world and this is the last supply run, although instead of useful supplies, they’re grabbing scented candles, fancy over-priced chocolates, and sparkly Christmas crap.

I push past everyone and head for the ice-fishing section. Steve always has a good selection of lures and gear. He’s one of the only people I can tolerate in this town.

Meanwhile, my inner grizzly is bouncing around like an over-excited golden retriever, smelling every woman I pass, trying to get a whiff of his ‘one true mate.’

Like I said, he’s a dope.

My heart stops when I arrive at the ice fishing section and see that it’s all cleared out. “What. The. Fuck.”

The Grizzly Gulper Jigs, Northern Howler Poppers, and River Ghost Rattler fishing lures are gone. In their place, I see these weird stuffed monsters staring at me with big eyes and creepy-ass grins.

“What the fuck is this?” I growl as I grab one and yank it off the rack.

“A Labubu,” a young girl says, looking up at me with a smile. “Isn’t it cute?”

“Cute?” I say, staring at her in shock. “Who the hell would want this?”

“I asked for Coco and Sisi,” she says, rambling off strange names like she’s speaking another language. “I already have Zizi and Dada, but I want these other ones so bad.”

Her mom comes, looking a little rattled. “Cindy, let’s go,” she says. “I’ve been waiting for you by the door.”

“Okay, Mom.” She looks up at me with a big smile. “Merry Christmas.”

I just stare at her like there’s no more hope for humanity as she leaves with her flustered mom.

I put whatever-the-fuck-she-called-that-thing back on the rack and head over to the hunting section. All the bullets and guns are cleaned out. Instead, there are fancy table cloths and dinner plates and wine glasses. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Boone,” Steve says, emerging from the crowd. “You got to wait in line, man. I can’t have you bursting in here like that. It’s not fair to the other customers.”

“Where’s the hunting gear?” I say, ignoring him. “And the fishing lures, and the usual stuff? What is all this crap?”

“Christmas is the biggest shopping season of the year, man,” he says with a shrug. “I gotta give the tourists what they want.”

“What about the locals?”

“It will all be back in January,” he says. “I got it stored in my barn. But listen, Boone, you can’t just barge in here. You have to wait in line like everyone else.”

“Why, so I can buy a freaking Lanewnew?”

“A Labubu,” he corrects. “And those Labubus pay my rent for the year.”

“Whatever,” I say, bumping him with my shoulder as I pass. “I’m out of here.”

My grizzly keeps jumping around all excited and that just pisses me off even more as I storm outside. The lady at the door gives me a nasty look, but I just ignore her.

God, there are so many people on the sidewalk. I just want to scream!

I put my collar up, shove my hands into my pocket and start walking, not looking at anyone. I have to get some canned food, but I’m already dreading going into the grocery store. It’s going to be filled with more idiots.

“Would you like to give a donation to the Fairweather Society?” a lady in a Santa hat asks, sidling up beside me as I storm down the sidewalk.

“No,” I grunt.

I feel my inner grizzly breathing in her scent, hoping she’s the one.

Nope, I tell him with a chuckle. Definitely not her, thank god.

I get to the crowded corner and a lady shoves a flyer into my chest.

“Come to the Christmas tree lighting ceremony tonight,” she says with a big smile.

“The what?” I grunt.

“Everyone is going to be there,” she says getting excited. “It’s going to be a huge party with all the tourists and locals. There will be music and games and good food and at nine o’clock, we’re going to light the Christmas tree for the first time. It will be so festive and fun!”

I just stare at her with a blank face. That sounds like the opposite of fun. That sounds like my worst nightmare.

“I’ll see you there tonight!” She shoves the flyer into the pocket of my jacket and then moves on to the person behind me.

The grocery store is packed worse than I was dreading it would be. I get my stuff, wait in line for way too long, and then head back to my truck with a headache.

I nearly blow when I see the empty snowbank where I parked.

“The city towed your truck,” the same stupid lady from before says with a satisfied smirk on her face. “That’s what you get for being a jerk.”

My big shoulders heave up and down as I take deep angry breaths.

Calm down, my upbeat bear tries to tell me. It’s Christmas.

I drop my bags onto the snowy ground and yank the flyer out of my coat as I glare up at the unlit tree in the middle of the town square.

The whole town will be here tonight…

All of the tourists…

Singing and dancing and having a great time…

I grin as I crumble the paper in my fist.

Not if I can help it.