27. Chapter 27

The next morning, I wake up without an alarm. I've been thoroughly enjoying my alarm-less mornings since I got to Paradise, but today is even better. In my groggy state, a few seconds pass before I remember I'm in Bear's bed. I take a deep breath and smile before getting up. After a quick mirror check and touch up, I pad into the other room.

Sunlight pours in the windows, and I gasp at Bear's view of Smuk Lake. It was too dark to see it last night, but now I've got a panorama of the entire lake. The sun shines brighter than it has since I've been here. Instead of the grayish-blue the lake has been, rays of yellow light skim the top of the blue water, turning it the same dark turquoise color as Bear's eyes.

There's a soft knock, and I turn at the same time Bear pokes his head in the door. I'm still wearing his jersey, and only his jersey.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know if you were awake." His eyes drop to the floor, but I catch them bounce back up to my legs. "I have your laundry. Some of it anyway. There are still some loads washing and drying."

"You can come in." I dash behind the kitchen island, suddenly very self-conscious even though Bear's seen me in less.

Bear opens the door wider, then walks in with a laundry basket stacked high with my folded clothes. "Your cat is in the garage. Georgia's in Florence for the next two days and Zach's allergic."

"But you are too. Willy can't stay here." Forgetting the fact I'm pants-less, I rush to take the basket from him. I've already been a huge inconvenience, and now my cat will make things worse.

"I won't need the garage while you're here. We'll air it out once you're gone. I can do laundry at Mom and Dad's. It'll be fine." Bear pulls the basket out of my reach, then carries it into his bedroom. When he comes back out, I'm behind the counter again. "I've got some breakfast at the house, if you're hungry."

I look between the bedroom where my laundry basket is and Bear. "You folded my laundry and made breakfast? You probably spent hours cleaning up the shop, too. When did you sleep?"

I've got a million more questions, all of which lead back to the ones I keep to myself. Is this Bear being my friend? Or trying to be more?

He lets out a low laugh and faces me again. "I don't need much sleep, but you might want to see the breakfast before you're too impressed."

"If it's something besides cereal, I'm impressed. That's all I make for breakfast, unless I can stick it in a toaster."

His brow creases. "But you know how to cook, right? You said you made dinners for you and your dad."

I huff a laugh. "Frozen dinners. Easy stuff I could stick in the oven or warm up in a pan."

"What about pancakes? Everyone knows how to make pancakes."

I shrug. "As long as you like them burned."

With a smile, Bear shakes his head. "I don't. Come down when you're dressed, and I'll teach you."

"How to make pancakes?" I blink hard. Usually, I figure things out on my own.

Bear's mouth creeps into a smile. "Danish ones. Ebelskiver."

"The round ones similar to golf balls that have yummy stuff in the middle? Like Britta makes at her cafe?"

He nods. "It's my great-grandma Britta's recipe."

"I'll be right down." No way am I saying no to those. I can't get enough of them.

Bear leaves, and my eyes prick with emotion. I feel silly for almost tearing up over pancakes.

But it's more than pancakes. It's the fact Bear knows his great-grandma's name and her recipe and wants to share that part of his family history with me. He may think it's a little thing, but for me it's huge. One thing I love about Paradise is that everywhere I turn, the Thomsens can point and say, "there's a piece of me and my family."

I want that.

I get the impression the Thomsens want it for me too. Grandpa, by letting me stay in the studio practically rent-free. Georgia and Zach both wanting me to have the shop in part to preserve their family history. And now Bear is making baby steps. It's not the shop, but he's tapped into another dream of mine—an even bigger one than the bookstore. My dream to be part of a big family.

I barely knew my grandparents and couldn't name my great-grandparents if my life depended on it. They were dead long before I was born, and I have nothing of theirs. Not even any stories, beyond the one about my great-grandfather on my dad's side, maybe being LAPD too, back in the forties. I come from a long line of cops who keep everything bottled up tighter than an expensive wine.

I wonder, again, if Bear's breakfast invite is him really wanting to be friends. Or does he want more? Because I'm definitely in danger of hoping for the second.

I go to his room and reluctantly take off his jersey, breathing in his scent one last time. But my own clothes smell faintly of Bear now. I really need to find out what laundry detergent he uses, because I always want my clothes to smell like this. Like him.

After getting dressed, I stop in the garage before going to the house. Willy Wonkat is on top of the running dryer, basking in its warmth. I hate to ruin the moment, but I pick him up and stick him in his carrier.

I know Bear said it was okay for Willy to stay, but I don't want to cause another allergy attack. I'll let him make me breakfast, then find somewhere else to stay. After everything Bear has done for me, I don't want to make him miserable. When I get to the sliding glass door of the main house, I stop before opening it.

Bear is on the other side, and I step to the side so I'm behind the sheer curtain drawn across half the door. I'm not trying to spy, I just don't want to interrupt.

He sits across from his mom, who's in a wheelchair. Even though I can't make out his words, his voice is soft and gentle as he feeds Mrs. Thomsen. Her eyes are vacant, and the conversation is one sided, but the love between them is as clear as the lake behind me, and just as beautiful.

I shiver outside the door and reach for the door handle but stop when a young woman I don't know comes into the room, smiling at Bear. She's wearing scrubs, and Bear stands when she gets close. I assume she's Mrs. Thomsen's nurse, but Bear's relaxed manner with her gives me the impression they know each other well. I can't see his face, but the way her eyes lit up when she saw him tells me she'd like to know him even better than she already does.

I can't see his face to suss out his feelings, but his easiness around her makes me wonder if their feelings could grow into something mutual. Maybe she's the reason he gave me the "let's be friends" talk yesterday, despite telling me the day before that he's had feelings for me since the first time he saw me. Maybe he's come to his senses and decided I'm too much.

He wouldn't be wrong. Not after the way I've treated him.

And that thought threatens to blow away the seeds of hope that I've inadvertently let take root.

I knock on the glass before sliding the door open, and Bear steps away from the nurse. When he looks at me, his eyes glow the same way the nurse's do when she looks at him.

"Cassie. Hi. I was just about to start the pancakes. I haven't had a chance yet."

He tilts his head toward his mom and the nurse, and I sense I've interrupted more than a tender moment between him and his mom.

The nurse steps around him. "Hi. I'm Grace, Heidi's nurse and Bear's girlfriend." She lets out a giggle and moves closer to Bear. "I mean high school girlfriend. I tease him about that all the time."

Bear looks flustered and moves a few inches from Grace. I'm pretty good at reading body language, but I can't interpret his. I only know he can't be as uncomfortable as I am with Grace smiling at me in a vaguely threatening way.

"Nice to meet you, Grace," I say, then lean toward Bear's mom. "Hi, Mrs. Thomsen. I'm Cassie, Georgia's friend."

Normally I'd offer my hand for her to shake, but hers are folded so tightly in her lap that I don't think she'd take mine. But she offers me a sweet smile. I see Bear in it.

"She doesn't really understand much anymore." Grace moves Mrs. Thomsen's wheelchair away from me, then scoots between it and Bear to face her. "I can finish feeding her, Bear. You probably have work to do."

"That's okay. I've got it. "

Grace picks up the plate Bear set down, then moves it out of his reach when he tries to take it from her. "This is what I get paid for, silly. Let me do my job."

Silly? Is she for real? Talking in that high voice to him?

Bear grows more flustered as they go back and forth over who should feed Mrs. Thomsen, and I don't know if that's because he's nervous I'm here or because he likes Grace and is nervous she's here. Their push and pull has a familiarity that only comes from knowing someone really well over a long time, which makes sense if they dated in high school.

Bear and I have a push and pull too, but it doesn't have the same give and take I see with him and Grace. He and I mostly just have tension. Well, that and physical attraction.

Why does it bother me so much that Grace has something easier with Bear?

Although, as of last night, Bear and I also have friendship.

It's not like I want any more than that with Bear Thomsen. He's barely an adult. These feelings of jealousy are ridiculous. They stem from boredom and a hockey jersey-induced brain fog.

It's time to get my head on straight.

I smooth my hand over my ponytail and meet Bear's eye. "I just came over to tell you, I don't need breakfast. But thank you for the offer. Have a great day, you guys." I include Grace in my farewell smile and wave.

Bear opens his mouth, maybe to protest, but I don't give him time. Whatever his feelings for Grace, she's obviously into him. I have no interest in being part of some small-town love triangle. Not when Bear has made it clear he wants to be friends.

I walk out the door, feeling more upset than I have any right to be when Grace, in her overly-chipper voice, says, "I'll take some breakfast!"

The fact I'm feeling as off kilter as I do means two things. First, I need to find somewhere else to stay until Bear fixes the mess at my studio. I'm not staying here, sleeping in his jersey, using his body wash, sleeping in his bed…thinking about him nonstop.

Second, I need some intense exercise to get his smell off my body and his face out of my head.