Page 15 of Beary Mated Christmas

“Let’s buy one of each,” my mate said.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“I’m very sure. Our tree will have a little of each of us. Each year, we can add more.”

Each year. Goddess, hearing him say that warmed my heart.

We would grow old together. Have many Christmases together.

“You’re right. Let’s get one of each.”

Chapter Eleven

Denali

We had the best time at the festival, purchasing all the ornaments and some other decorations made by local artisans, but we were also inspired to create something special of our own. Cookies, of course, but since we planned to gobble those up immediately, we wanted something more.

“Something we won’t stuff into our gaping maws,” Abel mused as we loaded our purchases in the car.

“Gaping maws? I know I’m a big bear, but I won’t eat everything myself.”

“I said maws, plural. I love cookies too, and I know you have deprived yourself of all the best cookies while avoiding the holidays all these years.”

“You haven’t exactly been holly and jolly,” I pointed out, closing the back door.

“No, and that’s why we can’t feel bad about ourselves when we eat a ridiculous number of treats. We have some things at the cabin like milk and eggs, but we need to make a stop at the grocer before we leave town.”

I was ready to do that, but Abel put a hand on my arm. “And I spotted some kits in the hardware store window for making Christmas crafts. Let’s go see?”

The cabin was not very big, and it was entirely possible that even what we had already bought would not fit, so I had my doubts about buying more, but my mate’s expression melted any resistance I might have mounted. If he wanted a fifteen-foot-high Santa inflatable, we’d make it work. Outside…but it would be ours.

The hardware store did not have anything we could accomplish without a good set of tools—which we declined tobuy because we were traveling—but the nice woodchuck shifter behind the counter sent us to his sister’s craft shop. And called ahead to tell her we were on the way. By the time we walked the block and a half to her door, she had a half dozen kits laid out on the counter, all of which could be done in a few hours without any special equipment.

They were all cool, but Abel reached right away for the wreath form. “It can go on our front door.”

Our door. I wasn’t sure if he meant just this season or in the future, but we’d been talking long-term, and a wreath sounded perfect.”

“Good choice!” Sophia the craft-store lady crooned. “Now, you get to pick out all the decorations that go on it. Do you have a theme this year?”

I was about to say no when Abel said, “Wolves and polar bears.”

“Oh, how cute! We have some of both on aisle two. And you can maybe use some of the silver ribbon…” She led the way up and down until we had a full shopping basket by the time we checked out. It seemed like an awful lot for one wreath, but Sophia assured us that any less would be sparse.

A quick stop at the market where we bought flour, sugar, and other basics along with just about every type of decoration they had, and we were on our way back to the resort. Luckily, the market also had rotisserie chickens and bags of salad because we arrived at the cabin just as darkness settled in. And with all our holiday projects in mind, we didn’t have any time for making such ordinary things as dinner.

Plus, the healthful meal would help with any traces of guilt at the cookie feast that would begin with dough. Shifters’ metabolisms allowed for a lot of calories, but we still tried our best to help our bodies work their best.

“I didn’t ask,” Abel said, setting the last bag on the counter, “but do we have a cookbook anywhere around here? Because I’m not sure how to make cookies without a recipe.”

A flutter of panic preceded remembering we were in the twenty-first century. I held up my phone. “All the recipes we can ever want at our fingertips.”

“You’re such a smart alpha.” Abel came over and slid his arms around my waist. “I almost forgot we could do that. Feels a lot like the olden days here in our cabin.”

“It kind of does, omega.” I hugged him tight.

“Now, what’s first? Cookies or crafts?” he asked, leaving me to surf the web.

“Dinner.” My bear was getting off on taking care of our omega. If he thought I wasn’t, he’d give me grief. “Then maybe we mix up a batch of dough. You know you’re going to want to eat some.”