Page 36 of Beary In Love

"Well, it's not like I could test it properly in my kitchen." The wood absorbed the potion with a soft sizzle. "But the components should work together to?—"

A loud crack echoed through the sanctuary. Logan dropped his brush and shifted instantly into his bear form, massive and alert. Serena's heart hammered as she scrambled down the ladder.

The fence across the compound shuddered, wood splintering as something large slammed against it. Logan bounded forward with a thunderous roar.

"Wait!" Serena called after him. "The new potion hasn't set yet!"

But Logan was already charging toward the disturbance, his bear form moving with surprising speed for something so large. Serena grabbed her emergency vial of barrier potion and ran after him, her boots squelching in the mud from yesterday's rain.

The attack stopped as suddenly as it began. By the time they reached the damaged section, there was nothing but claw marks and the lingering scent of another bear shifter.

Logan shifted back, his jaw clenched. "He's testing our defenses again."

"Then let's give him something to really test." Serena uncorked her vial and began applying it to the damaged area of the fence.

Serena finished applying the last of the potion to the damaged section while Logan hauled fresh lumber from histruck. The mixture glowed faintly as it sank into the wood, spreading like watercolor on paper.

"That should hold," she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. "At least until the reinforcement sets."

Logan grunted as he positioned a new post. "Good. Now step back while I fix this." His muscles flexed as he drove the post into the ground with practiced ease.

Serena retreated to the workshop, leaving him to his repairs. The familiar space welcomed her with its organized chaos - shelves lined with ingredients, bubbling cauldrons, and the faint scent of herbs that perpetually hung in the air. Logan had cleared his workshop for her use weeks ago, and she'd transformed it into her own little sanctuary within his sanctuary.

A smile spread across her face as she spotted the scorch mark on the ceiling - a reminder of last week's mishap. She'd been attempting to create an enhanced healing salve for the raccoons when the mixture had suddenly shot straight up like a geyser, painting the ceiling purple. Logan had rushed in, expecting disaster, only to find her covered in sparkly purple goo.

"At least it smelled like blueberries," she muttered to herself, organizing her workbench.

"Still talking to your potions?" Logan's deep voice startled her. He filled the doorway, tools slung over one shoulder. "That's the first sign of madness, you know."

"Says the man who had a full conversation with that grumpy old beaver yesterday."

"Hey, Maurice is a great listener." He set his tools down with a clang. "And he doesn't turn my fur pink like someone's experimental coat-enhancing potion did last month."

"That was an accident!" she exclaimed as her cheeks reddened. "Besides, it wore off... eventually."

"Three days, Serena. I had pink fur for three days."

She bit back a laugh, remembering how the massive Kodiak bear had looked decidedly less intimidating in cotton candy pink. "It brought out your eyes?"

Logan's mock glare only made her laugh harder. "Just keep your mad scientist experiments away from my fur from now on."

"No promises." She turned back to her workbench, hiding her grin. "Now shoo - I have actual work to do."

Serena measured dried chamomile into her mortar, but her attention kept drifting to the window where Logan chopped wood for the owl enclosure's new perches. His t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, and she found herself counting the rhythmic swings of the axe instead of her ingredient portions.

"Focus," she muttered, accidentally adding too much chamomile. The powder puffed up, making her sneeze. "Great."

She dabbed her nose with her sleeve, trying to ignore how the sunlight caught the gold flecks in Logan's eyes when he'd teased her earlier. Or how his laugh still filled her with warmth just like it had years ago. Or how watching him cradle injured animals made her want to?—

The potion bubbled over, hissing as it hit her workbench.

"Oh, come on!" She grabbed a rag, mopping up the mess. Her cheeks burned, and not just from the steam. "Get it together, Bloom. He's your ex. Your slightly sweaty, incredibly gentle with animals, stupidly handsome ex."

She groaned, dropping her head onto the workbench. The wood felt cool against her forehead as she listened to the steady thunk of Logan's axe outside.

"This is ridiculous," she told her failed potion as she looked up. "I can't be falling for him again. I just got divorced, even though the marriage was over long before that. I'm still putting my life back together. I can’t afford to complicate things with..." She waved her hand at the window, where Logan had stripped off his shirt in the afternoon heat.

"Oh, wow," she whispered, quickly turning away. She picked up her mortar again, determined to focus on work instead of the way his muscles moved as he?—

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