Page 85 of Grin and Bear It

“Mine, huh?” She smiled to herself. “Well, escort me in, boys, and show me what a good time looks like for bear shifters.”

Madeline, the head waitress, greeted us on our arrival and ushered us over to the table we’d chosen deliberately. It was tucked away a little and we’d paid for the table next to us to be removed. But Ellie didn’t notice that, looking out the massive picture window that had been a bitch to install, staring at the city lights beyond.

“It’s beautiful,” she said and Nash and I moved at the same time, almost colliding with each other to draw out her seat. She smiled prettily when we compromised, each of us grabbing one side of the chair to tuck it under her when she sat down.

“Now,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and even. “We’ve pre-ordered some stuff. You can have whatever you like.” I nodded to the menus. “But we thought—”

“We know this place pretty well and we know their signature dishes,” Nash interrupted. My eyes narrowed at that, but he charged on. “We thought—”

“You could discover them, with us,” I added hastily. “Madeline knows to bring you whatever you want if you don’t like our choices.” The server nodded slowly. “But—”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this?” Ellie asked.

“We sat up all of last night going through the menu and arguing about what to add,” Nash replied, shifting restlessly.

She laughed then, a little tinkle of a sound.

“Then let's enjoy all your hard work then,” she said, and nodded to Madeline.

“The finger lime G&Ts as a starter drink,” I told the server, then wrinkled my nose. “And a beer for this uncultured swine.” I jerked a thumb at Nash.

“What can I say?” the prick replied, leaning closer to our mate. His hand disappeared under the table and by her slight jump, I knew it was now on her thigh. “I know what I like.”

Yeah, me too, dickhead, I thought, shooting him a dark look as I did the same.

As soon as my hand landed on Ellie’s thigh, I felt the sudden tension in her body, then the slow dissipation, her skin feeling almost feverishly hot. The dress was soft, slippery under my hand, but that wasn’t what I wanted to feel. I shoved the hem upwards slightly and her back went ramrod straight as Madeline went to get our drinks. I could feel the slight quiver in her muscles as I drew small circles on her skin.

“I shouldn’t…” Ellie squeaked that out when Madeline returned, placing our drinks before us. “I shouldn’t be drinking on a school night.”

“Just this one,” I replied, picking up my drink and giving it a swirl. Tiny little beads of finger lime pulp shifted in the drink. “It's made with a native citrus plant called a finger lime and inside are all these little pearls of juice. They break in your mouth when you drink, giving you these bursts of lime juice. I’ve got mocktails selected for the rest of the night.”

She hesitated for just a second, then my hand slid slightly higher, so she snatched up the drink and took a big sip. I knew when she’d gotten a taste of the lime, because her eyes went wide.

“Oh my god, that’s so good!”

I beamed then, like she was praising me, not Madeline’s mixologist skills.

“Just you wait, beautiful,” I said with a wink. “You’ll be saying that all night if I have anything to say about it.”

“So what madeyou decide to become a teacher?” Nash asked as we waited for our entrees.

“I wanted to make a difference.” She snorted at that, taking a sip of her drink. “I mean, I didn’t have much of a choice. A bachelor of arts focusing on history and literature. What was I going to do with it, work at the local Macca’s?”

She watched the hypnotic swirl of the finger lime pearls in her drink.

“I remember being a student and it being so… overwhelming. Teachers were different when I was at school, something kids don’t seem to understand. Being cruel was OK for too many of them. Setting tasks without really explaining them was all par for the course, your ability to psychically determine what they wanted was part of your mark. I wanted…” She looked up then, meeting Nash’s eyes, then mine. “I wanted better, y’know. But what about you guys? What made you want to get into renovating houses?”

“It’s what our families have always done,” Nash said. “We grew up expecting to form a crew, work with our hands.”

“No bear shifter engineers or doctors?” she asked.

“If we wanted to, we could be,” I replied.

“Not with our fucking grades.” Nash and I chuckled at that, before he turned to Ellie. “Let's just say that while we weren’t stalking our teacher’s social media.” She flushed slightly at that. “We were a pain in the arse in other ways. You wouldn’t have wanted us as students.”

“I would’ve tried my best,” she said, before settling back in her chair. “So what did you guys do?”

We were halfway through the story of when we picked up our science teacher’s car and then placed it in the school quadrangle, when Madeline and another server returned. Entrees were set down on the table, covering everything but our plates and it was then I realised we might have gone a little overboard. Ellie blinked as she took in the sea of food.

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