Page 40 of Beary In Love

"What am I, sixteen again?" he muttered. "You really need to get it together, Steele."

But the memory of her gray eyes reflecting the starlight, the soft curves of her body pressed against his - it all refused to leave him alone.

A squirrel chattered nearby, drawing his attention to the feed he'd spilled while lost in thought.

"Alright, alright," he grumbled, cleaning up the mess. "But you try concentrating when the woman you've never stopped loving is suddenly back in your life, looking more beautiful than ever, and nearly kissing you under the stars."

The squirrel just flicked its tail and scampered off.

"Everyone's a critic," Logan muttered, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips as he returned to his tasks.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the sanctuary as Logan finished the last of his tasks. His bear's heightened senses picked up the lingering traces of Serena's scent near the hawk enclosure - that mix of lavender and herbs that made his chest tighten.

"You're getting soft, old man," he muttered to himself, securing the feed storage. His bear disagreed, rumbling contentedly at thoughts of their almost-kiss.

Logan paused at the fence line they'd reinforced together, running his fingers over the strengthened metal. Her magic hadmerged seamlessly with the structure, just like she'd merged back into his life.

"Back then, I thought I had it all figured out." He checked the gate's latch, remembering how young and sure of himself he'd been. "Gonna marry that girl, have cubs, live happily ever after." He paused. "How did that work out for you?"

A red-tailed hawk swooped overhead, catching his attention. The same kind they'd treated together yesterday.

"She's different now," he told the sanctuary at large, pacing the perimeter. "Hell, I'm different. Maybe that's not such a bad thing."

His bear pushed forward, eager to chase these thoughts of mate and future. Logan reined it in, though he couldn't help the satisfied growl that escaped when he remembered how perfectly she'd fit against him during their dance.

"But what if-" he started, then caught himself talking to thin air again. "Great, now I'm turning into one of those shifters who talks to themselves all day."

The raccoon from earlier poked its head out, chittering what sounded suspiciously like agreement.

"Nobody asked you," Logan grumbled, but his lips twitched upward. He'd never been one for overthinking - that was more Serena's department. His bear preferred action, claiming what was theirs, protecting what mattered.

And Serena mattered. Maybe more now than she had before, because this time he understood what he stood to lose.

The setting sun painted the sanctuary in shades of amber and gold, like the way Serena's eyes had sparkled beneath the festival lights. His bear purred at the memory.

"Maybe," he mused, checking the last enclosure, "sometimes you get a second chance for a reason."

Logan soon shuffled through expense reports, trying to focus on the numbers that kept swimming before his eyes. His bear'senhanced night vision made the late hour bearable, but nothing could make accounting interesting - especially when every receipt reminded him of Serena.

The latest invoice was from their fence repairs. He remembered how she'd accidentally turned a section into flowering vines, her cheeks flushing that adorable shade of pink. His bear hummed contentedly at the memory.

"Focus," he growled, shoving the paper aside. His phone buzzed - another text from Serena.

"Just checking - did the hawk eat tonight? I noticed she was picky yesterday."

His lips curved despite himself. Trust Serena to worry about their patients even on her day off.

"Already handled. She ate everything. Stop worrying and enjoy your break," he typed back, then added, "The raccoon misses his favorite vet though."

"Just the raccoon?" came her quick reply.

Logan's bear preened at the flirtatious undertone. "Maybe not just the raccoon."

He set the phone down before he could say more, but his eyes kept drifting to the window where they'd watched the sunset together last week. To the corner where she'd spilled that experimental potion that had made them both laugh uncontrollably for an hour. Even his damn coffee mug still held traces of her scent from when she'd borrowed it the other morning.

His phone lit up again. "The hawk's wing should be ready for another check tomorrow. I can come by early?"

"Sounds good." He couldn't help adding, "The sanctuary feels too quiet without you here."

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