Page 31 of A Merry Misfit Christmas

“No. I don’t have all the answers, but I don’t believe you will.”

“And our kids someday?” I pry, wondering how it would affect any offspring we have.

“Now that’s almost certain. I think so, but that’s dependent on your human DNA combining with my shifter genes. I believe I’m more dominant, so yes.”

Wow.

“How long will you live?” I ask, trying to hold in any fear I have about him leaving me any time in the near future.

“I’m not immortal but I have a longer lifespan than the average human,” he replies, tilting my chin up so our eyes meet. “And I believe the claiming, bond, and mark will give you the same longevity.”

“How does this bond work? Are we connected forever? Can it be broken?”

I know I’m firing questions at him left and right, but my knowledge about shifters is relegated to what I've read in books, and of course, what he’s told me so far.

“Babe.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “You’re the first. I’m hoping we’re compatible for offspring and will both have a long life. I can feel that our mate bond is unbreakable. My bear confirms it.”

Oh. That’s good. At least I’ll never be alone again, which makes me extremely happy.

“I guess I need to be patient,” I sigh with a smile.

“Yes.”

“Maybe I should get the information about the kids and their wish lists.”

“Good idea.” He kisses me, nibbling on my bottom lip. “First, we should shower.”

I agree but it’s still another hour before I’m dressed and dialing Cheryl’s number. She’s got all the info about the kids written down and decides to text me the information so that I can pass it on to Kodiak. He’ll distribute the lists, sizes, and ages to the guys who can shop for the necessary items.

The donations we’ve requested from the community are mostly clothes, but with Kodiak’s brothers’ input, I let her know that these kids also deserve some fun holiday activities, and that Spike will reach out to her to coordinate all of those things. Kodiak mentioned there was talk about going to the zoo to see the animals in their habitats all decked out for the holidays, but also taking one of the pontoon boats so they can see the way the area lakes are decorated with festive lights.

“Oh, I forgot one more thing,” I say as we’re about to hang up. “I think we should ask for donations of suitcases, Cheryl.”

“I like what you’re thinking, Callie. I’ll reach out to some of the local corporations to see if they can help with that kind of thing,” she replies.

“I’ve got a lot of ideas for next year since we’re so close on time,” I say.

“Go ahead and toss them out to me, who knows? Maybe we can manage to make a little magic happen this year instead of waiting,” she urges.

Glancing at the list she sent me, I see there are four teenage girls, but the rest of the kids are under the ages of ten. “Do you think we could put together girly girl kits for the four older girls? Makeup, hair stuff, maybe some tools for them to use? None of those things are cheap so I’m sure the foster parents don’t have money left over to consider that and every girl needs to feel pretty. Plus, a good skincare routine is important.”

She starts laughing but agrees. “Let me see if I can reach out to the cosmetology school that’s here. Maybe they’d be willing to give the girls makeovers? Plus, they may be able to buy products at cost or something, which would help us create these kits. What do you think?”

And just like that, our Christmas party is sounding like a runaway train as we continue to toss ideas back and forth. “I’ll order the containers they can use to keep their thingsorganized,” I promise, “since I can buy them in bulk and I’m sure there’ll be girls in the system next year who’ll be the right age. I’ll also go online and order enough stockings for all the kids so we can stuff those as well.”

One of the years I was in foster care, that was all we got, a filled stocking, but it was something I treasured because it had a coloring book, a new box of crayons, candy, and some fuzzy socks. I’m already thinking that little matchbox cars for the boys, and flavored chapstick for the little girls would be a great addition. I know my wallet’s about to take a hit, but I don’t particularly care because this is the worst time in these kids’ lives and if I can make it a little nicer, than that’s what I’m going to do.

“The best day of my life was when you walked into my office and asked to volunteer. I can feel my gray hair receding by the minute,” she teases before we end the call.

This is going to be the start of something special and I’m so thrilled to be part of it.

Kodiak kisses my temple. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” I admit.

He reaches for my hand, interlocking our fingers. “Let’s go, my beautiful mate.”

“Thanks for getting us the lists, Callie,” Spike says as Kodiak and I walk into the kitchen.

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