Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 16943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 85(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Fucking hell. I grab a banana and munch on it to shut him up while I set the table.
When my phone buzzes again, I glance down and see it’s my mother. Fantastic. Just when I thought I could have a night free of family interference.
“Gabe!” Her voice booms over the line, loud enough to wake a sleeping bear. “Where have you been?”
“I’ve been busy,” I grumble back, knowing she isn’t going to let it drop that easy.
“I bet.” Damnit. I guess she already knows about Louisa. “Your brother told us about your adorable mate.” I fucking bet he did. The family grapevine moves faster than a speeding train.
“Then you know why I’m not around.” I should know better, but I can’t stop the words from slipping past my lips.
“Don’t get an attitude with me, young man.” Fuck. I feel like a ten-year-old all over again. “I’ll let you go, but I expect a call from you tomorrow. And I want you to bring your mate to dinner at our house once you get your relationship squared away.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Glancing at the clock, I will it to move faster, but the fucker ignores my commands. I mutter a few choice curses under my breath as I pace my living room, impatiently waiting for her.
When I hear the sound of tires crunching on gravel outside, my heart kicks up a beat. There’s a light knock and I swing the door open to find my mate standing on my doorstep wrapped in a long-quilted coat.
She steps in and slips the coat from her shoulders. I hang it up on the coat rack before turning back to her. She looks effortlessly stunning in a fitted light pink sweater and black yoga pants. The outfit clings to her curves in a way that makes my fucking brain short-circuit as I drink in the sight of her.
“Hey,” she greets, a touch of uncertainty in her voice. “I hope my outfit is okay. I haven’t really finished unpacking yet, so I’m stuck with what I have.”
I run my gaze up and down her body, relishing the way her cheeks flush slightly under my scrutiny. “You’d look fucking gorgeous wearing a potato sack.”
Louisa smiles, and the way her presence instantly lights up the room hits me like a freight train. As I step aside and usher her inside, the air crackles with the chemistry flowing between us.
“Welcome to my den,” I say, leaning against the doorframe with what I hope is my most disarming grin.
She laughs lightly, and it’s music to my ears. “It’s awesome! Cozy, rugged… not at all what I was expecting,” she replies, her gaze holding mine.
Staring down into her eyes, I can’t resist the impulse any longer. It’s like a magnetic pull draws me in closer until I’m kissing her soft lips and losing myself in the moment. The world around us fades away, and all I can focus on is Louisa and the way she melts against me. Her thoughts on my house, the dinner plans, everything slips from my mind. It’s all about showing her how much she means to me and how deep this connection runs.
As I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers, savoring the closeness. “What were you expecting, sweetheart?” I ask, my voice low and teasing.
“A bachelor pad,” she replies, stepping back and scanning my living room, her expression morphing from surprise to genuine admiration. “But this is beautiful. I love the way you decorated it.”
“I can’t take all the credit for the decor,” I say, leaning casually against the counter, trying to project that charming nonchalance I do so well. “My mother and sister are the ones who went all out.” They’ve lined the walls with framed wildlife photos that encapsulate the wild spirit of Glacier Pass and even hung up a couple of vintage snowshoes behind my sofa—adding an oddly fitting old-school flair that gives the place character.
The exposed wood beams running along the ceiling give the open floor plan a rugged charm that I really dig. It’s cozy, inviting—a perfect reflection of who I am and everything I hold dear. I glance around, feeling a swell of pride for what I’ve created despite the chaos of my life. The slightly worn but comfortable brown leather couch across from the fireplace is exactly where I can picture chilling out after a long day or curling up with someone special, and I can’t shake the urge to have Louisa with me.
“Sister?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder, and I catch the way her lip bites down just slightly, a playful gesture that makes my heart twist. “Are there any more Bearlys around?”
“There are four of us,” I respond, allowing an arrogant smirk to creep onto my lips. “I’m the oldest and unquestionably the best looking.”
She laughs, rolling her eyes the way only she can, and it’s a sound that tumbles through my chest like music. If I could bottle that laughter, I’d be rich. “Oh, really? You?”