A Bear for Christmas
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S. M. Merrill
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881K
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24
’Twas the week before Christmas, and Marie’s mother was driving her crazy.
All Marie wants is to meet a nice guy and settle down, but her mother insists she’s too old, too chubby, or too picky. Then Holton walks into her flower shop, and the connection is immediate. Almost like he’s…her soulmate? But only shifters have mates, and Marie's never met a shifter before.
A Seriously Sexy Voice
MARIE
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 18, ONE WEEK UNTIL CHRISTMAS
Marie stood in the back of her flower shop, scowling at her ringing cell phone. The last thing she needed during a busy time of year was to talk to her mother. Noelle Kriton was the worst.
“Marie, honey,” said Noelle when Marie picked up. “I just wanted to remind you not to be late to the holiday party on Friday. It starts at seven sharp.”
“I know, Mother,” Marie said. “It starts at the same time every year.”
“Just making sure! Are you bringing a date this year?”
“No,” Marie said, hoping they could leave it there.
“What about your friend Reggie? He’s a nice man.”
Marie rolled her eyes. “And gay, Mother.”
Noelle tsked. “Shame. You’re not getting any younger. You might want to go light on the food this year, honey. Maybe losing a few pounds would help you attract a man.”
“Both your younger sisters are married with babies. Don’t you want that for yourself?”
Of course, Marie wanted a husband and children. She just wasn’t going to settle for a man who didn’t adore her.
“See you Friday, Mom.” Marie hung up and turned to see Reggie giving her a sad look.
Marie and Reggie had been friends for years, and she’d hired him as her assistant as soon as she could afford it. She loved the guy like a brother, but he knew her way too well.
“I’m fine, Reg,” she said. “Let’s get this arrangement done. Only seven days until Christmas.” She went to the ribbon table and began pulling red, green, and gold ribbons.
Marie knew she would always be considered cute rather than beautiful. Usually, she was okay with that. She was short and carried a bit of extra weight, while both her younger sisters were tall, thin, and vain.
Marie had her mother’s height but her father’s build. Every pound she put on made her even rounder. She tried hard to eat right and exercise, but it never seemed to have much effect on her body shape.
It just sucked that she always had to deal with her mother’s jabs about how she was too fat to keep a boyfriend.
“Why do you answer the phone when she calls? She always ruins your day.” Reggie clipped thorns off red and white roses.
“If I don’t, then she guilts me about not loving her. Both Joy and Valerie call her daily,” Marie explained.
“They stay home while their kids go to daycare. Of course, they can call your mom. They have nothing but free time. Meanwhile, you have a full-time job.”
“Doesn’t matter to Noelle Kriton.”
“I’m sorry.” Reggie handed Marie the roses, and she put them into twelve bunches with a few small, white flowers to add depth.
“Marie, we have a customer on line one needing help with a table setting,” her other assistant Trisha called into the back.
“Not sure we’ll be able to squeeze them in,” said Marie, but she picked up the shop’s landline. “Hello, Kriton Florist.”
“Hi, I’m desperately in need of a centerpiece,” a deep, male voice said through the phone. A shiver passed down Marie’s spine. That was a seriously sexy voice.
“It depends on how big,” she said, working to keep her own voice professional. “We’re almost booked solid.”
“It just has to be something a mom who loves Christmas would appreciate,” he pleaded. “I don’t usually wait this long to order.”
She flipped through her appointment book. “I have an opening today at six-thirty. The shop closes at seven.”
“Thank you so much; see you then!” He sounded genuinely grateful.
Marie hung up and sighed dreamily.
“You did a one-eighty,” said Reggie, peering at her dopey grin. “Did someone call to ask you out?”
“No, but his voice sent shivers all through my body,” Marie admitted.
Reggie laughed and finished another bouquet.
“I hope his body matches his voice,” she mused. “Tall, handsome, single.”
“If he is, honey, snatch him up and use him as your holiday date.”
“I will not. No poor man needs to be subjected to my family.” She couldn’t do that to someone.
Lately, Marie hated the holidays. Every year, she got the same tired litany from her mom. Get a husband, and stop being fat. You’re not getting any younger.
She was thirty-three, not dead. Both her sisters had married their college sweethearts and had children, and Marie loved her nieces and nephews. The problem was, they reminded everyone Marie was single and childless.
“Marie, I need you!” Trisha called, summoning her to the front of the shop. She spent the rest of her day helping others and making arrangements. She didn’t even have a chance to eat lunch as one needy customer after another took up her time.
If the shop did well this season, she’d consider bringing on one more employee. She enjoyed arranging flowers more than working the front.
“Marie, your six-thirty appointment is here,” Trisha announced, bursting into the back room.
Without looking up from her arrangement, Marie replied, “Tell them I’ll be a minute. You can take them to the consulting room.” She wanted to finish this centerpiece before her meeting. The only thing left was to add the filler flowers.
“Marie, go. I caught a glimpse, and I think he might be your Prince Charming.” Reggie nudged her out of the way to take over with the arrangement.
Rolling her eyes, Marie took off her apron. Smoothing her frizzy hair, she headed for the consulting room. Trisha was standing outside the door and gave her a thumbs-up as she passed. Seriously, how hot was this guy?
Walking into the room, Marie’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart skipped a beat. Fuck! He did match his voice.
He was huge, at least a foot taller than her, and muscular, wearing a three-piece suit that stretched across his broad chest. But somehow, his honey-blond hair and soft, grass-green eyes kept him from looking intimidating.
He stood by the far wall, looking at some of her award-winning arrangements. Her toys at home were going to get a workout tonight. This man melted her panties.
“Hello, I’m Marie Kriton. I’m sorry I didn’t get your name over the phone.” She held out a hand. When he took it, pressing his large, warm palm against hers, her knees went weak. She had to force herself to let go after the handshake.
“I’m Holton Bell,” he said. “Thank you for squeezing me in. It’s been a busy work season for me, and I forgot to order ahead.”
Marie tried to place the familiar name. After a moment, it came to her. “Usually your assistant comes,” she replied, remembering a beautiful brunette with similar green eyes.
“Yeah, my sister Ruby. She quit about a year ago, and I haven’t found a new assistant I like. I don’t know how this ordering process works; Ruby always helped me.”
Marie tried not to laugh. This huge man, who could probably bench-press her, was asking for her help with something?
“Okay, sit down and we’ll see what we can put together.” She pointed to the table and opened her sample books. Visuals always helped people make up their minds. “Here are our most popular choices.” She flipped through, letting him look at each photo.
“Hmm,” he said after a few pages, “do you have anything more wintery and less Christmas? I want her to enjoy the flowers even after the holiday.”
“Not in here,” she admitted, “but I can show you options and piece a sample together.”
Holton gave her a big smile, one that made her heart race. “That would be nice. Thanks, Ms. Kriton.” He stood up, and Marie did as well.
She looked up and up. The man really did tower over her. He held open the door for her as they left the room.
“Thank you, Mr. Bell.” She gave him a shy smile.
“Holton, please,” he corrected. “Mr. Bell is my father.”
She laughed. “And Ms. Kriton is my mother. You’re welcome to call me Marie.” She led him to the back room, where Reggie was just finishing up her last arrangement for her.
Reggie’s eyes widened a little when he saw Holton up close. Then he winked at Marie and put the arrangement in the refrigerator before leaving them to it.
“Wait,” said Holton, once they were alone. His voice had an odd, almost rumbling quality to it suddenly. “Ms. Kriton is your mother. Is that…are you by any chance related to Noelle Kriton?”
Oh no. How did this beautiful man know her mother, of all people? Please, Marie prayed to whoever might be listening. Please, don’t let her screw this up for me.
