A Bear for Christmas

HOLTON

“Yeah, Noelle Kriton is my mother,” said Marie. Holton noticed that her shoulders had gone very stiff. He badly wanted to reach out and offer her a hug, a backrub—any excuse to touch her.

But first… “In the interest of full disclosure, my mother and yours don’t get along very well.” Noelle Kriton was a big deal in high-society circles, and she made no secret of the fact that she hated shifters.

Given that Holton and his entire family were bear shifters, they didn’t love hearing about Noelle’s anti-shifter tirades. And Holton’s mother, Helena, was on a couple of charity boards with Noelle, so she had to hear some of it firsthand.

“My mother doesn’t get along well with anyone unless they’re rich and kind of unpleasant,” Marie admitted. “Is that a problem? Are you going to boycott me because I’m related to her?”

Holton tucked his hands into his coat pockets to keep from touching Marie. It was way harder than it should be. There was no way he could “boycott” this woman, no matter who she was related to.

“That would hardly be fair. You haven’t done anything wrong. Anyway…” He cleared his throat. “You were going to show me some samples?”

“Yeah,” said Marie, looking relieved. “Let me just pull together a few things.” That voice. That was the first thing he’d noticed about her earlier.

He’d been panicking when he’d realized he’d forgotten to order Christmas flowers. But as soon as he’d called this shop, the voice on the other end of the phone had soothed his bear.

That should’ve been a clue about what was happening, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the reaction he and his bear had to Marie in person.

All his life, he’d heard about how amazing it would be to meet his mate. Now that he’d met her, he knew what everyone had been talking about.

Marie was beautiful, with golden-blonde curls and gray-blue eyes. She was more than a foot shorter than him, with curves that drove him crazy. He was so busy staring at her, it felt nearly impossible to pay attention to her words.

“Do you know what flowers your mother enjoys?” she asked. Even her voice sent desire racing through his body. He had to shift to keep his dress pants from becoming uncomfortable and giving away his thoughts.

“Um, she likes blue and red. Last year you mixed in some metallic flowers with the real ones, which was very striking, but I’d like something more natural this time,” he answered.

Marie’s eyes darted around to the different cases. “Does she like the outdoors?”

Holton stifled a laugh. His mother was a bear shifter. Of course she liked being outside. “Yes,” he said simply.

Shifters made up about ten percent of the population, and for the most part Holton was proud that he came from a shifter family. But still, some people—like Noelle Kriton—were prejudiced against his kind, treating them like wild animals.

He really hoped Marie, his newly discovered mate, didn’t share her mother’s prejudices. He wanted to get to know her a little better before outing himself.

“Hmm,” said Marie, oblivious to his wonderings. “What about something snowy? Pine cones, berries, pine needles?”

She pulled different materials out to place them on a table before him. He watched in fascination as she arranged them into a sample vase, combining them in ways that would never have occurred to him. “Is your mom sensitive to smells?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, again without offering the context that made this obvious. He was sensitive to smells too; the shop was practically a jungle of them.

“Okay, that helps me.” He watched her move around the room, her eyes full of concentration. She took out flowers edged in light purple, white ones shaped like snowflakes, and bright-red, trumpet-shaped ones.

“Snowdrops, amaryllis, and fairy primrose. These should help it feel wintry with just a touch of Christmas. Depending on how well it’s cared for, the centerpiece will last maybe a week or two. When do you need it?”

“Christmas,” he said.

“Okay. We close at two on Christmas Eve; you’ll have to pick it up then.”

“I can do that.” He realized their time together was ending and panicked a little at the thought of having to leave her so soon. Then her stomach growled. He smiled.

“Would it be too forward of me to ask you to dinner?” he asked, crossing his fingers.

She smiled back. “If you don’t mind me going like this, yes, I’ll go to dinner with you.”

“You look perfect,” he assured her, looking her over. Under her apron, she wore a sparkly red sweater and tight jeans that showed off her wide hips. He wanted badly to feel those hips under his hands.

“Here’s my card for the payment.” He handed her his platinum card. He always felt a little silly when people saw that; he didn’t like flaunting his money.

Marie’s eyes widened in surprise at the name on the company card. “Now I can place you fully. Bell Construction. My sisters both have houses made by your company.”

“I hope the houses are up to their satisfaction,” said Holton, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“They’re happy now. I know they were both super stressed while the construction was going on. I tried to avoid them at all costs.”

She turned to her card machine. “Okay, I have everything I need. I’ll call you when the centerpieces are done. I’ll have instructions for care then too.” Holton smiled, accepting his card back.

“This means I can take you to dinner.” Holton took her hand, helping her to her feet.

“I need to close up,” she replied in a husky voice. He grinned at the evidence that she was just as affected by the touch as he was.

“Take your time,” he answered.

As soon as Holden opened the door for her, though, a tall, thin man with neon-blue hair stepped forward to push a purse and coat into Marie’s hands. “Have fun, Marie. We’ve got cleanup.”

“Were you spying?” she demanded, glaring at him.

“No, I just overheard him asking you out. Bye!” The guy gave her a wave and a friendly shove.

“Reggie,” said Marie, a warning tone in her voice.

“Thanks, Reggie.” Holton was only too happy to take the excuse to start their date right away. He reached behind Marie, untying her apron strings, and then took her things from her unresisting hands.

Reggie snatched the apron, Holton helped Marie into her coat, and she zipped it before taking back her purse, looking dazed.

***

Marie agreed to follow Holton to his favorite restaurant, a casual Irish place called Gallagher’s Pub. As they came inside, loud music and laughter met their ears.

“Holton!” his friend Trey called, waving him over to the bar.

“Not tonight, Trey.” Holton looked down to see Marie taking in the atmosphere. “We can sit anywhere,” he explained, leading her to a booth away from the noise.

“Do you come here often?” she asked, removing her coat.

“Every Friday night,” he confirmed. “My best friend Trey owns the place, and we’re both also good friends with Alexi, the brewer who works in-house. They work such different hours than me; if I didn’t come here, I’d barely see them.”

“Wow,” said Marie, sounding a little wistful. “I don’t have a place like that. I don’t think I’ve ever been a regular anywhere.”

“What do you do to destress?” he asked as he handed her a menu.

“I garden,” she said. “I love being in the dirt, working to grow flowers.”

He smiled. That made sense for a florist. “Do you only grow flowers?”

“No, I have a vegetable patch too. This year I had a ton of bell peppers. I couldn’t use them or give them away fast enough.”

“That’s neat. What do you do in the winter months?” Holton reached across the table to hold her hand.

“Not much. I do dinner once a month with my family. I have a game night once a week, sometimes more if everybody’s available. What about you? What do you do besides coming here?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

“I like to be in the woods. And I have a regular dinner with my family too, twice a month on Sundays.”

Her face darkened at the mention of family. “Do you enjoy it?” she asked, looking doubtful. Did she hate her family?

“Yes,” he said slowly. “My family is very close and supportive of each other. My father handed me the family business about six years ago. What about you? Do you enjoy family dinners?” He watched Marie sigh and shrug.

“They used to be okay. Now both my sisters are married with children. I’m the oldest at thirty-three. My mother likes to remind me I’m not getting any younger. She tells me regularly that I need to settle down and get married.”

Holton stared at her in shock. “Settle? What do you mean?”

“I need to stop being picky,” she says. “I should accept the next marriage proposal no matter how I feel about the man.”

“You’ve been proposed to before?” he clarified, feeling wildly jealous of this other man he’d never met.

She nodded. “My last boyfriend proposed, and I said I’d think about it. Then he cheated on me. Mother said that’s just what men do, but I disagree.”

Holden quickly went from jealous to angry on her behalf. “Of course. I don’t see how anyone can think it’s unreasonable to want your partner to be faithful.”

“Right? I don’t think I’m asking for so much. I just want someone who will adore me and any children we have. I need to be important in his life.” Holton smiled. He liked that she had a backbone.

“I’m glad you didn’t settle. Then I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you.” He kissed her hand as their server came to the table.

“I apologize for the wait,” the guy said, glancing between them. “Good to see you again, Holton. What can I bring you to drink?”

“I’ll have my usual, the Mad Bear,” Holton answered. He glanced at Marie. “That’s the house golden ale; it’s really good. What do you want?”

“Do you have a Belgian wheat beer?” she asked the waiter.

“The Honey Bear might be a good choice. I can bring you a sample,” the server offered.

“Okay, sure.” Marie gave him a smile, which made Holton’s bear let out a low growl.

Shit. He was supposed to be keeping his bear side under wraps right now. Marie jerked her gaze back to him, looking surprised and then calculating.

“I’ll be back.” The server left, and Holton calmed once he was alone with Marie again.

“That’s, like, the third time today I’ve heard you make rumbling noises,” she said, throwing him a challenging look. “Are you some kind of shifter?”