Page 10 of Bear for the Holidays

“Er, thanks, I guess? I really just came up here to deliver some stew, and things got seriously weird.”

“It is that,” Cassidy agreed. “I grew up with the idea of true mates, and it was still weird when I met Pearl.”

“Really?”

“Also wonderful. Listen, it sounds like you’re a little flipped out?”

“I feel like any normal person would be.”

“Sure. But look, that nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want, all right? Nothing at all. So just remember that. It wouldn’t be a true mate bond if you didn’t want it, so just spend some time thinking about what you do want.”

A red blush crept across Deanna’s face, and she was glad Pearl and Cassidy couldn’t see it. She knew exactly what she wanted from Nik, had known since he opened the door and she looked into his eyes, but seriously. She hadn’t even known his name yet.

There was a brief whispered conversation, and then Pearl was back.

“Hey, hon. It’s okay if you’re stressed and nervous. If you need to, take it slow, all right?”

I’m not really good at taking things slow,Deanna thought, glancing over her shoulder at the bedroom. The bedroom with the bed. The really big, really sturdy-looking bed she had glimpsed earlier.

Before her thoughts could derail too far, the cat sauntered out to stare up at Deanna while meowing imperiously, and she straightened up.

“Thanks for everything Pearl. I’m going to go feed this little ragamuffin, and then I’ll figure out everything else. Going to try not to ruin it by being my usual bossy self.”

“Hey.” Pearl’s voice was sharp.

“What?”

“The thing about true mates is that you’re not true mates with some idealized version of yourselves, okay? You’re his true mate just as you are.”

“But–”

“Nope. I’m older than you. I know better. Be yourself. You’ll be fine. Good luck, all right?”

Tears stung Deanna’s eyes, and she sniffed them back impatiently.

“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

She was staring at the cabinet looking for potential cat food when a lightly snowy Nik came back in, stepping out of his boots and hefting a large container of kitty litter.

“Keep it around for traction in the ice,” he said, pleased.

“Do you have anything that might be food for a cat? Pearl says that tuna’s fine for the moment.”

“Bottom shelf with the paper plates,” he said, going into the bedroom.

The moment she put the paper plate of tuna down, the cat shoved her face into it, growling with satisfaction between bites. The poor thing clearly hadn’t gotten a decent meal in a while.

Deanna took advantage of the cat’s distraction to wipe her down with a wet paper towel, and about ten minutes later, Nik came back in, looking good in jeans and a flannel even if Deanna was sorry to lose the pajama pants look.

“What’ve you got there?’ he asked.

“Apparently a white cat. Poor baby was coated with grime.”

The poor baby in question chirped with satisfaction, staggering away from the licked-clean plate. They followed her to the bedroom where she investigated the water dish and litter pan that had been provided before hopping back into the drawer with all the elegance of a queen claiming her place.

“I’m glad she likes the towels. I really did not want to give up my underwear.”

“But you would have, wouldn’t you?” asked Deanna, stealing a sidelong look at him.

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