Page 55 of Bearly Hanging On

“Spikes.” Harper said that without an iota of embarrassment. “They’re all springy, like the shell of your ear.” She flicked hers for emphasis.

“Do they, indeed?” The other women made sounds of protest, but Ingrid leaned forward, obviously eagre for more information. I’d brought Harper here for a romantic evening, not to talk about Tor’s dick. “And this does not hurt?”

“Nope.” Harper grinned. “It’s pretty cool, actually. Like a ribbed for your pleasure vibe or something. Wolves, of course, have knots.”

“Wolves…”

The ladies sat back as one, then glanced at each other, realising they had all responded the same way.

“They can be… difficult creatures,” Meryl said with a gentle smile.

“Mack, difficult?” Harper snorted. “Is that a nice way of saying obstinate, bossy, overbearing, annoying…?” Her voice trailed away as she realised she had a captive audience. Harper didn’t know, that’s what I told myself, about the opinions and prejudices of the various shifter communities. “He took it on himself to rescue me from a truly terrible date and has been an insufferable prick ever since.”

“He is being protective.” Jane was very intent on hearing Harper’s answer. “They all are?”

“Um… yeah. Pookie Bear here even mopped the floors at the end of my shift for me.” Pookie. Bear? “So you guys are the PTA.” Harper took in the banner. “And you look after the kids of the community and the women who’ve just discovered they are someone’s fated mates?”

“We try to ensure women accept a mating bond with open eyes,” Jane explained. “Our men, they are at the mercy of their instincts. Ones we don’t share until we choose to. Our job is to make sure you are not being coerced or pushed into something against your will.”

This was going far better than I expected. Harper looked up at me, eyes twinkling, as she smiled.

“Pretty sure I’m the one doing the pushing.”

“To bond…?” Meryl asked, putting her knitting down in her lap.

“To have sex.” Ingrid was famously blunt and never more than now. “We do not have to worry about this one. She knows what she wants.” Her focus shifted back to Harper. “This is good. I cannot abide mawkish girls that faint away at the news that a man has a bone in his penis.” Her brows drew down. “Or spikes, or knots, or whatever else other shifters have.”

“Do you ladies know much about that?” Harper stepped forward and I barely suppressed the need to pull her back against me. “Because my grandmother and her friends have wayyy too much interest in the topic. I barely stopped them from Googling animal anatomy when I was visiting.”

“These sound like fine women,” Ingrid said. “You must bring them to the community hall.”

“Ingrid…” Jane’s tone was slightly strangled.

“What?” Ingrid turned to face her. “We are out of the wardrobe now.”

“Closet is the term, I believe,” Meryl said.

“Wardrobe, closet, whatever.” Ingrid waved a hand. “If these ladies have an interest in shifters, it's on us to satisfy that. Aren’t we trying to reach out to the human community now?”

“I’ll let my nanna know,” Harper replied, right as someone else came rushing up.

I blinked and then moved forward, because my mum was carrying way too many boxes again. She must’ve given my dads the slip, because she would never be allowed to carry so much if they were around. She couldn’t even look over the top of her burdens, so she didn’t see the divot in the ground. I rushed forward, grabbing the boxes, then her as she nearly went flying.

“Oh!” She looked up and then smiled. “Sweetheart! I didn’t see you there.”

“You didn’t see anything, carrying all those boxes. What’ve you got in here anyway?”

But with one sniff, I knew.

“My famous honey cake,” she said, bustling forward. “This saves me a trip, because this one is for you.” I was handed a box heavy with cake. “Now, did your Harper end up coming? I hope so, because I’d love to meet her, before your dads come and get all growly.”

“Mum—”

“You know they’re just struggling with the whole multi-species sleuth thing. The bear community has been as strong as its traditions for far too long, and that means they’re a little hidebound.”

“Mum—”

“Your fathers love you.” Her hand went to my arm. “I know it doesn’t seem like it…”

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