Page 2 of Season's Greetings
When they first got together, he thought she might be the answer to the questions he couldn’t help but ask himself. She reminded him a lot of his first love. She had dark hair and blue eyes, but that’s where the similarity ended. Because she wasn’t as charming, or as frustrating, or as endearing as Daniel. And most of all—she didn’t have a dick. And that was the part he was struggling with. Well, that and her character morphing more into a shrew with every passing day.
Seriously, if Scrooge were a woman, he’d be Matthew’s wife. Or ex-wife. Partner. Shrew. Whatever. Hell, he didn’treally know what they were these days. He was only glad the legal powers that be had recognized that Claudia was in no way interested in being a parent of any kind—let alone full-time. Which was fine with him. The less contact he had with her, the better.
Although his parents felt the need to mention her whenever they could. Thinking about it now, he wasn’t sure it was her per se that they liked—more the concept of her. What she represented: normalcy, simplicity, convention. A Canis shifter. And… straight.
And that was the question. Was he, or wasn’t he? Damned if he knew the answer. Objectively, he could tell when someone was attractive, but if their personality didn’t hit him between the eyes—stop him dead in his tracks—then they were just another good-looking person walking by.
Daniel did that to him from day one.
From the moment he walked into the Chem lab looking for a free seat, Matthew knew he didn’t stand a chance. Daniel’s personality was so bright and bold you could’ve seen it from space. And when he turned those twilight blue eyes on Matthew, he fell completely under his spell.
Now, years later, he was holding a greeting card, his name clearly written in bold print. Not just any hand—Daniel’s.
The Hamilton family was one of the oldest and most influential in the area. Being well-known was a double-edged sword. His name and face opened as many doors as it closed. Privacy was something he prized, and keeping Daniel at arm’s length to appease his parents had been one of the biggest mistakes of his life.
Letting the pack elders pick Claudia over him had been the ‘safe’—and only—choice. It wasn’t just because he was male; it was because he was a bear shifter. It would’ve been social suicide back then to introduce Daniel as his boyfriend. Which is why he did what he did.
The only good that came out of it all was Toby.
Tearing open the envelope, he eased out the card, barely noticing the picture on the front. Silver glitter scattered everywhere in his haste. Then he read—and re-read—the few words until his vision blurred.
Nothing but the standard season’s greeting message, wishing him and his family a prosperous new year.
Each insincere word written in Daniel’s bold script made his gut twist. Daniel had deliberately written that word—family—when he knew Toby’s name. Matthew had made a point of clearly writing it next to his own on the card he’d sent, from just the two of them, sans Claudia.
Not that he expected the alpha to pick up on the subtlety. Once Daniel’s dander was up, no amount of reason could calm the storm brewing inside him.
Chapter 2
Daniel
Rush hour traffic slowed to a snail’s pace as the light snow turned into a heavier fall. The sun had already set by the time Daniel arrived at his mock-colonial home. In the darkness, the porch light shone like a beacon, illuminating the two-acre woodland property—not vast, but ample space for a bear shifter to wander.
Days like this made him want to unleash his inner beast and let it vent. Except that would only prove all the lies about his kind.
Shutting out the miserable weather, he kicked the door closed and tossed his keys onto the hall table. Letting out a long sigh, he headed toward the stairs, shoes tapping against the tiles as he stepped deeper into the dark house. Why bother with lights when his eyesight was as good as any cat’s?
Within minutes, he’d discarded his suit, throwing it carelessly onto a chair before heading to the bathroom. He needed to feel the hot spray of the shower beat down on his tense shoulders.
Normally, he had patience for days, preferring to work the more complex cases. He enjoyed helping people by untangling their legal problems. But at this time of year,all that tolerance flew out the window—much like all the empty words Matthew had ever said to him.
Any sense of calm the hot water had given him dried up under the weight of resurfacing irritation.
Dressed in gray track pants and a matching hoodie, he padded down to the kitchen in search of food, opening cupboard after cupboard and finding little. Giving up on the idea of cooking, Daniel did a 180 and walked into his den—his sanctuary, the one place he felt at ease.
Lowering his bulky frame into an oversized armchair, he stared at the cold fire and closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the stillness—broken only by the loud rumbling of his belly. Picking up his phone, he pulled up a food app and placed an order for a super-sized spicy Hawaiian pizza with extra ham and pineapple.
While he waited for his meal to arrive, he deliberated the pros and cons of drowning his sorrows in bourbon.
Salvation—or at least oblivion—was not waiting at the bottom of the bottle. He’d been there, tried that. It didn’t work. All it achieved was to further sour his mood and leave an acidic taste in his mouth.
Hearing Claudia’s voice was like a fire alarm going off in his head. It grated on his already strained self-control. The need to lash out built like a volcano about to erupt.
Instead of a relaxing weekend, Daniel was on the verge of royally losing his shit. The card thing had him feeling off-kilter, and then factor in the harpy… well, that was just the cherry on top of a week he’d rather forget.
Except he couldn’t. His damn brain wouldn’t switch off. The more he tried to push the unwanted thoughts to the back, the more they loomed at the forefront of his mind.
He knew why Claudia had cause to pitch a fit. What she expected to achieve by it was anyone’s guess. As he didn’t own a time machine—and unless she did—there was no way she was going to get what she wanted.
