Chapter 14
Despite his terrifying adventure as a baby bear—or maybe because of it—Aster was chattier than usual during bath-time that night. While Brandy gently sudsed him, checking every inch again for claw marks, he told her about the flowers he’d wanted to sniff, the path that had confused him, the kitty appearing and being not very friendly at all much like their neighbor’s overfed Persian cat back in Manhattan that always hissed at him, and so he’d gone up the tree…
Though she made the appropriate noises of surprise and consternation, his words flowed over her like the summer breeze, occasionally chilling her like a dunk in the mountain-runoff creek when she remembered how close she’d come to losing him.
Losing him not to the bear but a cat.
By the time she got him dried off, his lashes were already fluttering closed. But when she settled him in his crib, he clung to her a moment, with more strength than she was used to. “Night, Mama.”
She nuzzled his cheek. “Night, honey.”
“Night, teddy.”
She swallowed hard. Aster had a favorite stuffed bunny, a plush spaceship with a night light inside it, and a quilted blankie he’d had since he was an infant.
He’d never had a teddy bear.
When she finally pulled herself together and straightened, he’d fallen asleep.
She forced herself out of the room, although she had to pause in the doorway to check one last time. Then she went downstairs.
Her sisters were in the parlor, snacking on the last of the salted caramel pecan bars. A bottle of whiskey waited beside the plate, no glasses. Brandy collapsed into the chair across from them and took a swig.
Rita wrung her hands. “He’s really okay?”
“Did you hear him talking?” Gin grabbed at the bottle dangling from Brandy’s slack fingers. “I think it knocked something loose.”
Holding tight to the whiskey, Brandy took another drink. “Knocked—oh—a decade and a half off my life.” She finally let her sister snag the bottle.
But Rita plucked it away first. “If Aster changed back, the spell definitely didn’t work. We failed.” She glugged a mouthful.
“If we hadn’t…” Brandy sagged in the chair, closing her eyes. “The bear saved him. Aster shifted because he’s a shifter—that’s what he is. He changed back in the clearing not because of the spell but because Mac was there.” She had felt it herself the very first time she saw Mac: a strong, steady power that had immediately drawn her in and let her be bold when she’d never felt that way before. And when she’d needed to be strong and bold for Aster, that memory had brought her back to Angels Rest, like a homing instinct.
“You should go find him.” Gin’s voice was smaller than Brandy had ever heard it. Her brazen, brassy sister had been rattled by the near disaster.
Scrubbing one hand over her face, Brandy shook her head. “Aster had a big day. He’s already asleep.”
“She means find Mac,” Rita said.
Brandy’s eyes popped open inadvertently to stare at her older-by-minutes sister, who had finally relinquished the whiskey. “Mac?”
“Your bear,” Gin reminded her before slugging from the bottle.
Brandy’s heartbeat thundered. My bear. God, he’d been huge and ferocious. With one swipe of his claws, he’d lopped off the cougar’s tree branch as easily as a corner shop florist snipping rosebuds. And when she’d grabbed at him, almost collapsing, first in fear, then in relief, he hadn’t wavered an inch, as if those claws kept him rooted and steady when everything around him was chaos.
From the first time she saw him on the road into Angels Rest, when he’d offered her a ride that set her on an unexpected path, she’d known he was something special. Maybe initially she’d just thought he was cute and sexy, and later she’d figured out he was a shapeshifter. But now, she understood he was special because of who he was inside, past the handsome wrapping, deeper than the beast.
But he wasn’t her bear, not really. When her sisters had come running to the oak, he’d disappeared, and when she’d looked around, his jeans and boots—which she’d carried after he shifted—were gone. While Aster had splashed in the old clawfoot tub (the sight of those claws had brought back her shivers for a minute) she’d hung the western shirt on the back of the door and contemplated the damage. The pearls snaps had been ripped right out. Too hard to repair.
Much like their relationship. They’d had a moment, years before, where they’d fit together as perfectly as the snaps. Okay, and maybe a few moments recently too. Not to mention Aster, who was the tie that bound them. But that wasn’t enough, not when they were so different, when she’d never believed she’d find someone who wanted the weird Wick girl in the middle.
But…what if different wasn’t the dreadful fault she’d always thought?
What if the difference was that she’d finally found the right one?
She tugged the alcohol away from Gin, took one more sip for fortitude, and rose. “You’ll watch Aster?”
“Better than we did this afternoon,” Rita promised wryly.
Brandy hugged them both to show them she’d forgiven them—more, she’d never blamed them. Not when they’d always been there for her, even when she’d tried so hard to escape their circle. Then she stepped out onto the front porch of the old Victorian.
A flitting breeze toyed with her hair as she loosened the bath-time scrunchie, but the June night was the warmest it had been since she had arrived in Angels Rest. The moon hadn’t risen yet, and the stars seemed surprisingly close, as if the tops of the ash, oak, and alder trees—witches’ favorites—had poked holes into the black velvet of the sky.
How did one go bear hunting anyway?
She might not have an animal inside her, but the whiskey burned daringly in her belly, so she aimed her steps for Main Street. The shops and diners were still lit up for the post-jubilee lingerers, and the stars receded as she joined the strolling crowd. But though she smiled at some of the folk she recognized, nowhere did she see a bare-chested bear shifter.
Of course. Without his shirt, he would’ve headed home, right? She’d only been to his place that one time. With her luck, maybe he didn’t even live there anymore.
Or maybe he wouldn’t answer the door when she knocked. She’d lied to him about Aster, tried to reject the parts of them that made them who they were.
Just as she’d tried to erase part of herself, leaving the arcane convolutions of magic behind for the orderly and acceptable spreadsheets of accounting. If he rebuffed her, she wouldn’t blame him at all.
The rejections that had scarred her past—her father leaving, Mom wandering off, the skeptical kids at each and every new school keeping the weird Wick sisters at arm’s length—those hadn’t been her fault. But she had spurned Mac. That was one hundred percent on her.
Turning away from the lights and passersby of Main Street down the quieter residential street, she let out a shaky breath. Everything looked different from what she remembered: It was dark instead of daylight, she and Mac were both different people now, and she still didn’t—
“Brandy?”
Her heart swiveled like a gyroscope in a cage, orienting on that deep voice. She pivoted on her spiked heel to face Mac.
It wasn’t the same as seeing Aster after work. Sometimes when she went to give him a kiss, he wouldn’t even look up, too absorbed in coloring or stacking Legos. Sometimes she was still thinking of the numbers she’d crunched all day. But she never doubted that he loved her, and she had always known she’d give up her life for him.
Had given up one planned life for another path with him.
With Mac… She’d thought he was a one-time thing, like a shooting star or an ephemeral spell that disappeared after casting.
Because she hadn’t given it—hadn’t given him—a chance. She’d figured out everything herself, like it was just another complicated math problem no one could do but her. But her sisters had shown her they were always there for her, even if they had their own ideas about what was normal. And maybe Mac had something to add too, if she wasn’t so afraid of being wild.
She’d been quiet too long, and he took a step toward her, his brows furrowed. “Is Aster—?”
“He’s fine,” she said hurriedly. “Great, actually. The tree sounds taller every time he tells the story. But you got him.”
Letting out a slow breath, Mac stared slightly past her. “I want to get him.”
She tilted her head. “What?”
“At least part of the time.” His steady gaze returned to her. “I want to be his father, Brandy.”
“You are his father.” No matter what happened next, that truth would never change.
“Whether he’s boy or bear, I want to be in his life.” He took another breath, not quite so steady this time. “And yours.”
She almost wavered on her heels, but she had to show him he didn’t need to carry her. Even though he’d always been there for her—from the first time she’d walked into Angels Rest to the obstacle race, to the end when he’d faced the cougar.
“I didn’t want to be a witch,” she told him. “I thought I wanted a life where I didn’t have to hear any whispers, didn’t have to keep any secrets. I was happy to walk away from the magic.”
“Brandy—”
She closed the distance between them to put her hand on his chest, silencing him. “But I don’t want to lose you.”
His dark eyes gleamed down at her with a glint of amber. “I’m not magic. I’m just a bear.”
“When you touch me, it’s magic,” she said. “When you kiss me, it’s like a dream.”
His heartbeat thudded against her palm. “If you stay with me, you don’t have to wake up.”
“Oh, I want to wake up, with you, every day, by my side.”
The breath shuddered from him, released like a spell without words that freed him from his stillness, and he reached around her to settle his big hands at the small of her back. “I’ll be there.”
She smiled up at him. “Well, I imagine some of the time you’ll be out in the woods with Aster.”
“Come with us,” he urged. “We’ll show you that weird and wild is the way.”
Her own heart thumped hard, as if matching itself to his beat, as if it wanted to change into something as large and fierce as his bear. “I want you to show me, but first…” She tilted backward a bit to put some space between them. “I have to say I’m sorry.”
He didn’t pretend to wonder why. “You were trying to do the best you could for Aster.”
She gave him a squeeze for his understanding. “The best thing for him is letting him know you—and his bear. Which I would’ve known if I’d at least tried to reach out to you three years ago.” Tightening her grip on him, she let out a harsh breath. “Three years. All this time, I’ve been looking for a place where I could just act normal instead of finding someone who doesn’t mind when I’m not. I’ve missed this—you—for three years because I knew all about magic and shapeshifters but I didn’t believe in love.”
His linked hands snugged her up against his body. “I’m not a fancy accountant or anything, but if I’m doing this math right, I’m thinking if we get started right now, we can make up for those three years before the fall equinox.”
She hummed low in the back of her throat, not quite a growl, as he angled one knee between hers, closing the last breath of distance separating them. In her heels, she was almost as tall as him, so he didn’t have to bend too far to slant his mouth over hers. The dance of his breath was light as fireflies and hot with a hint of whiskey.
“You were at the roadhouse,” she said when he lifted his head. “Celebrating your win with the boys?”
“Winning the throne?” He shook his head. “Turns out, that wasn’t the prize I wanted. No, I was asking them the best way to woo a mama bear.”
She leaned against him, relishing his big, hard body. “What’d they suggest?”
“It started with kidnapping Aster and it got worse from there.”
With a mock gasp of outrage, she smacked her knuckles against his biceps, then curled her fingers around behind. “You could always take me.”
His lips curled lazily. “An angry witch might turn me into a toad.”
“Then I’d have to kiss you back to a prince.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I am.”
To her, he was. “My bear,” she said instead. “My man.”
“Your mate.”
When he kissed her again, his lips parted hers on one breath. The heat sank deep, possessive in a way she sensed was stronger than any magic. It wasn’t conjured or cooked up in a cauldron, wasn’t countable on any calculator. His tongue tangled with hers, and she tasted the wildness in him. It matched something she’d never known in herself, her missing half.
She had no secrets from Mac, and her pulse rushed with elation. To be with someone, and to be loved… It was power beyond any spell or shift. And he’d given it to her.
She flung her arms around his neck, and his rumble of laughter reverberated through her body. “Those heels looks dangerous in the dark of night,” he said. “I should probably carry you.”
Joy swept through her with a strength that had nothing to do with his biceps or the bear’s hunger shining in his eyes.
As he gazed down at her, his smile gentled to a seriousness that made her heart ache with love. “Which way you going, darlin’?”
She reached up to cup the bristle of dark hair on his jaw. “Anywhere with you.”
Before you go...
Claim the very first Wolf of Angels Rest: !
Find all the Fun & Flirty books at
And get ready for the ...