Bearly Hot (Glacier Pass #3)

5. Gianna

Chapter 5

Gianna

After a busy morning at Rise and Grind, I finally wave goodbye to Alice and Esther, feeling like a toddler on a sugar high. My inner grizzly is buzzing with excitement.

The moment I step inside my small home, Minnie, my plucky feline companion, greets me with an indifferent flick of her tail, her usual aloof welcome.

“Hey, Minnie,” I say, letting my bag fall unceremoniously onto the nearest chair. “I have a date tonight.”

She replies with a lazy yawn, perfectly indifferent to the human social rituals I’m about to embark upon. As long as she has her special food and favorite treats, all is perfect in her feline world.

First things first, I head for a much-needed shower to wash the smell of coffee off of me. The steam rises around me, a warm, swirling cocoon that washes away some of the tension running through my body.

As I bask under the hot water, my mind flits through tonight’s date with Sawyer, and my inner hussy bear makes all kinds of plans for my new mate.

Post-shower, I wrap myself in a fluffy towel and tread to my closet. The decision of what to wear looms large, laughing in the face of my usually straightforward fashion sense. I need to strike the right balance of casual yet subtly flirtatious. Unassuming yet unambiguously dazzling, the kind of look that says, “I just threw this on,” when in fact, it required strategic planning akin to a military operation.

I rummage through my massive walk-in closet without much success. This is more challenging than I’d anticipated. Each time I grab a garment, my inner bear grumbles, “Too summery, too bulky, or too old lady,” until I’m beyond frustrated and still completely naked.

I’m knee-deep in clothing chaos when my phone buzzes on a nearby shelf. It’s a FaceTime call from Grant’s human mate, Lennon, a fashionista with a knack for styling that verges on sorcery. She has saved me from countless fashion faux pas, and I silently thank the universe for sending her my way at this critical moment.

I throw on my trusty pink robe and accept the call. "Hey, girl! I hear you have a big date tonight!" Her voice practically buzzes with enthusiasm.

"And I have absolutely nothing to wear," I reply, gesturing helplessly toward the clothing explosion around me.

Lennon laughs, that musical, airy sound so characteristic of her. "Let’s see the options. Show me what we're working with."

I angle the camera toward the chaos, and she immediately delves into fashion triage mode. Lennon has this way of seeing potential where I see despair, turning disorganized piles into curated collections.

After a few minutes of her quick-fire critique, including a playful scolding for owning too many plain, “old lady” outfits, Lennon suggests my slim black leggings that tightly hug all my curves, paired with a fuzzy emerald-green sweater that looks great with my light blonde hair. It’s an ensemble that balances charm with just a touch of ferocity.

“Gianna, you’ll look amazing,” Lennon assures, her approval a seal of excellence. “Go knock him off his feet. In a metaphorical sense. Less injury, more flirt.”

I giggle, grateful not just for her guidance but also for her positivity. “Thanks so much.”

“Always happy to help you. A little bird told me Dillon is giving your intended advice, so you’re going to need all the help you can get,” she teases before hanging up with a grin and wink.

Fudge my life. I’m sure my ever-helpful brothers were anything but helpful with Sawyer.

Outfitted and almost ready, I slip on a pair of ankle boots and finish with my dainty silver chain, good luck charm.

With a glance in the mirror, I assess the final result. Not bad at all, I think, giving myself a little wink. The reflection presents the perfect image of a strong, independent woman and hopeful mate.

Taking a deep breath, I step back, feeling decidedly more prepared.

I head out with Minnie’s silent, perceptive stare watching me go. As I walk to my car, I look up at the stars twinkling above and make a silent wish for the night ahead.

The drive to Sawyer's place is a winding journey through Glacier Pass's most scenic roads, and I’d be lying if I said my heart wasn't performing little acrobatics the entire way. It’s a good kind of nervousness, the anticipatory flutter lighting me up from the inside out.

As I turn onto the long driveway leading to Sawyer's home, I catch sight of it nestled among the tall, majestic evergreen trees, their branches protecting the cabin from the elements.

The cabin's rustic charm stands out like something from a storybook with rough-hewn logs stacked together and smoke curling up from the chimney. It’s the epitome of cozy home vibes, with a touch of wilderness comfort that Glacier Pass is known for.

I park my car and sit for a moment, taking in the scene. This is it. My inner grizzly, never one to sit tight, is already growling with impatience, nudging me to move forward, to complete what I’ve been dancing around for days.

“Okay, Gianna,” I say aloud, trying to inject some stability into my jitters. “Deep breaths. It’s just dinner with Sawyer. In a secluded cabin. Away from everything. With a guy who makes you forget basic vocabulary and, oh yeah, is also your fated mate.”

My bear huffs in agreement, entirely done with my attempts at maintaining a cool head. I give myself one last mental shake and decide it's time to get my rear end in gear.

The gravel crunches beneath my boots as I approach the steps leading to the front door. Everything about this feels right, feels like homecoming, and yet, there’s a thrilling factor, and I suddenly know what I’m going to do.

Before I can knock, the door opens to Sawyer, his eyes reflecting warmth and surprise that mesh into a welcome all their own. He’s wearing a soft knit sweater that highlights his broad shoulders and somehow makes those eyes of his more disarming. For a moment, my brain blanks, stuttering over pleasantries, conversations forgotten as the reality of my mate in the flesh derails my motor functions.

None of that matters, though, as something primal kicks in. Without thinking, I close the distance and wrap myself around his hard muscular body.

Sawyer freezes for a fraction of a second before chuckling with surprise, holding me as if I’m altogether the safest, most delicate thing in the world. “What’s going on?” he asks softly, a chuckle dancing on his breath.

I lean back just enough to look up at him, my inner grizzly giving a satisfied rumble to his own bear. “I can’t fight this anymore,” I whisper. It’s an admission that’s been coiling inside me from the moment I felt the pull developing between us.

“Fucking hell.” Sawyer runs his tongue along my bottom lip. “You keep me on my toes, hot stuff.” My heart jumps up into my throat as he continues. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you as my mate. I love you with every molecule of my body.”

“I’m the lucky one.” I wrap my arms around his waist and lean up to place a soft kiss on his chin before running my tongue along his collarbone. “Now, freaking kiss me.” My inner bear growls as his lips cover mine.

Our tongues dance together, and I run my hands over his solid, muscular back, untucking his dress shirt with a growing urgency. A thrilling jolt of electricity races through me as I feel his warm skin tense and shift beneath my touch.

Breathing heavily, he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. "Are you ready to be my mate?" he asks, his voice thick with restraint. His words ignite something deep within me, sparking a heat that makes it impossible to hold back. “Because I’m dying to make you mine for all eternity.”

"Then shut up and do it," I reply, playfully tugging at his bottom lip. "Make me yours." A flicker of fear tries to creep in, but I brush it aside as he scoops me up effortlessly, pressing me against his solid chest as he carries me toward the bedroom. With a swift kick, he closes the door behind us, then gently lays me down on the soft, plaid comforter.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, leaning over me to trace a path of light kisses along my collarbone, each touch sending shivers through me.

His warm breath caresses my heated skin as he trails his tongue slowly up my spine. My mate's hands work their magic, kneading firm circles down the length of my back, coaxing my body to surrender into the soft, silky cover beneath me. This shifter has claimed every part of me—body and soul. "Mine," he growls against my skin, the possessive rumble spreading goosebumps along my spine.

My overwrought body is eager, ready to embrace what’s to come. "Yours," I whisper, fully embracing the truth. There’s no fear left in me.

He teases the sensitive spot at the base of my neck before tracing his tongue over to where my shoulder meets my throat. "Are you ready for my bite?" he murmurs. With my tongue tied and heart racing, all I can do is nod in eager agreement.

I gasp as he swiftly removes my shirt, tossing it aside in a heartbeat. He turns me, straddling my hips, and as he sits back on his heels, his gaze fixed on my bare breasts, I feel a thrill surging through me, too intense to allow for any embarrassment.

With one decisive motion, he tears off his own shirt, sending buttons scattering. My eyes devour the sight of his sculpted chest, and I can’t help but squirm, desire pooling between my thighs.

My eyes roam down his impressive, chiseled physique, and I can hardly contain my surprise when I notice the prominent bulge stretching the fabric at the front of his pants.

I bite my lip as I glance up to see him grinning. "Wow," I exhale, and he responds with a playful wink.

“I’m glad you approve.”

He lets out a deep moan as I slip my hand into his pants, wrapping my fingers around his hardness. I run my thumb across the tip, spreading the wetness over his smooth skin. I slide my hand up and down, watching his reaction to make sure I’m doing it right.

He jumps back and quickly tears away the rest of his clothes. Holy cow. I might self-combust before he even touches me.

I prop myself up on my elbows, watching him crawl over me with a heated intensity. When he takes one of my nipples into his warm mouth, I instinctively dig my nails into his hair, pulling him closer.