Page 83 of Enemies in Paradise

He lets out a low laugh and faces me again. “I don’t need much sleep, but you might want to see the breakfast before you’re too impressed.”

“If it’s something besides cereal, I’m impressed. That’s all I make for breakfast, unless I can stick it in a toaster.”

His brow creases. “But you know how to cook, right? You said you made dinners for you and your dad.”

I huff a laugh. “Frozen dinners. Easy stuff I could stick in the oven or warm up in a pan.”

“What about pancakes? Everyone knows how to make pancakes.”

I shrug. “As long as you like them burned.”

With a smile, Bear shakes his head. “I don’t. Come down when you’re dressed, and I’ll teach you.”

“How to make pancakes?” I blink hard. Usually, I figure things out on my own.

Bear’s mouth creeps into a smile. “Danish ones. Ebelskiver.”

“The round ones similar to golf balls that have yummy stuff in the middle? Like Britta makes at her cafe?”

He nods. “It’s my great-grandma Britta’s recipe.”

“I’ll be right down.” No way am I saying no to those. I can’t get enough of them.

Bear leaves, and my eyes prick with emotion. I feel silly for almost tearing up over pancakes.

But it’s more than pancakes. It’s the fact Bear knows his great-grandma’s name and her recipe and wants to share that part of his family history with me. He may think it’s a little thing, but for me it’s huge. One thing I love about Paradise is that everywhere I turn, the Thomsens can point and say, “there’s a piece of me and my family.”

I want that.

I get the impression the Thomsens want it for me too. Grandpa, by letting me stay in the studio practically rent-free. Georgia and Zach both wanting me to have the shop in part to preserve their family history. And now Bear is making baby steps. It’s not the shop, but he’s tapped into another dream of mine—an even bigger one than the bookstore. My dream to be part of a big family.

I barely knew my grandparents and couldn’t name my great-grandparents if my life depended on it. They were dead long before I was born, and I have nothing of theirs. Not even any stories, beyond the one about my great-grandfather on my dad’s side, maybe being LAPD too, back in the forties. I come from a long line of cops who keep everything bottled up tighter than an expensive wine.

I wonder, again, if Bear’s breakfast invite is him really wanting to be friends. Or does he want more? Because I’m definitely in danger of hoping for the second.

I go to his room and reluctantly take off his jersey, breathing in his scent one last time. But my own clothes smell faintly of Bear now. I really need to find out what laundry detergent he uses, because I always want my clothes to smell like this. Like him.

After getting dressed, I stop in the garage before going to the house. Willy Wonkat is on top of the running dryer, basking in its warmth. I hate to ruin the moment, but I pick him up and stick him in his carrier.

I know Bear said it was okay for Willy to stay, but I don’t want to cause another allergy attack. I’ll let him make me breakfast, then find somewhere else to stay. After everything Bear has done for me, I don’t want to make him miserable. When I get to the sliding glass door of the main house, I stop before opening it.

Bear is on the other side, and I step to the side so I’m behind the sheer curtain drawn across half the door. I’m not trying to spy, I just don’t want to interrupt.

He sits across from his mom, who’s in a wheelchair. Even though I can’t make out his words, his voice is soft and gentle as he feeds Mrs. Thomsen. Her eyes are vacant, and the conversation is one sided, but the love between them is as clear as the lake behind me, and just as beautiful.

I shiver outside the door and reach for the door handle but stop when a young woman I don’t know comes into the room,smiling at Bear. She’s wearing scrubs, and Bear stands when she gets close. I assume she’s Mrs. Thomsen’s nurse, but Bear’s relaxed manner with her gives me the impression they know each other well. I can’t see his face, but the way her eyes lit up when she saw him tells me she’d like to know him even better than she already does.

I can’t see his face to suss out his feelings, but his easiness around her makes me wonder if their feelings could grow into something mutual. Maybe she’s the reason he gave me the “let’s be friends” talk yesterday, despite telling me the day before that he’s had feelings for me since the first time he saw me. Maybe he’s come to his senses and decided I’m too much.

He wouldn’t be wrong. Not after the way I’ve treated him.

And that thought threatens to blow away the seeds of hope that I’ve inadvertently let take root.

I knock on the glass before sliding the door open, and Bear steps away from the nurse. When he looks at me, his eyes glow the same way the nurse’s do when she looks at him.

“Cassie. Hi. I was just about to start the pancakes. I haven’t had a chance yet.”

He tilts his head toward his mom and the nurse, and I sense I’ve interrupted more than a tender moment between him and his mom.

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