Page 29 of Beary In Love

"That was a long time ago," Logan protested, but his lips twitched. "And it was more of a red."

"It was neon pink and you know it." The memory of eighteen-year-old Logan covered in sparkly pink goo made her smile despite herself. "Face it, Steele. You need my help right now."

Logan's expression softened. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I'm not that fragile teenager anymore." Serena touched his arm lightly. The fabric of his henley was soft under her fingers. "Besides, my car's still at the sanctuary. Unless you plan on being my personal chauffeur?"

"Fine." Logan sighed. "But please be careful? For me?"

The sincerity in his gold-flecked eyes made her heart skip a beat. "Only if you do the same."

He nodded, stepping back. "Deal."

Serena watched as he walked slowly to his truck. The engine rumbled to life and the headlights cut through the darkness. As his taillights disappeared around the corner, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd just made things more complicated for herself.

Serena set her kits by the door and collapsed onto her worn couch, kicking off her shoes. Her glasses slipped down her nose as she let her head fall back against the cushions. The events of the day played through her mind like a movie she couldn't pause.

"What are you doing, Serena?" she asked the empty room. Her cat clock ticked in response, its tail swinging back and forth.

She closed her eyes, remembering how Logan had doubled over laughing when her potion turned the fence into a wall of daisies. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, how his deep laugh had bubbled up from his chest. She'd forgotten how infectious his joy could be.

"It's just for the animals," she muttered for the hundredth time, but even to her own ears the words rang hollow.

The memory of dinner made her stomach flutter. He'd remembered her favorite - grilled salmon with herbs from his garden. The way he'd watched her take that first bite, anticipation written all over his face.

"Stop it," she told herself firmly, but her traitorous mind drifted to their hands brushing as they worked on the fence, the spark that shot through her each time. The way he'd steadied her when she stumbled, his hand warm against her lower back.

Rolling onto her side, she grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest. "This is stupid. You're not some lovesick teenager anymore."

But she couldn't deny how natural it had felt working beside him. Even their bickering had felt... right.

"You're just grateful for the work," she reasoned with herself. "And maybe a little worried about him. That's all."

The pillow muffled her groan of frustration. Who was she kidding? The way her heart had leaped into her throat when he shifted to protect the sanctuary - to protect her. How safe she'd felt.

"This is exactly what you promised yourself you wouldn't do," she scolded herself. But she couldn't help the smile that crept across her face as she remembered lying in the grass, both of them covered in sparkly potion residue, laughing until tears streamed down their faces.

Later that night, Serena tossed in her bed, tangled in sheets damp with sweat. In her dream, massive paws thundered against frozen ground as she ran through the sanctuary. Her potions bag bounced against her hip, bottles clinking with each desperate step.

A deep growl rumbled behind her. "You can't escape," Silas's voice echoed, somehow both human and bear at once.

She spun around, fumbling with her bag. Her fingers closed around empty air where her potions should be.

Another bear burst through the trees - Logan, his fur gleaming in the moonlight. He planted himself between her and Silas.

"Really?" Dream-Serena called out, somehow finding humor even in terror. "The whole damsel-in-distress thing? My subconscious needs better material."

Logan's bear form turned its head, and she could have sworn it rolled its eyes at her.

13

SERENA

Serena's light sweater billowed in the spring breeze as she walked to meet Julie for lunch. Her best friend had texted her early that morning, demanding details about the sanctuary situation. The cobblestone sidewalks of Main Street brought back memories of countless other lunch dates here.

The lunch crowd at The Salty Dog Café spilled out onto the sidewalk patio, their chatter mixing with seagull cries and the distant crash of waves.

Julie waved from their usual table outside. "I ordered your usual turkey club. Now tell me the details. Your texts haven’t been exactly easy to follow these past few days."

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