Holly’s Grizzly (Monster Relations Bureau #4)

22

Holly - One year and eight months later

“Beautiful weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

I look up, startled, from where I’d been taking in the view of the sun just beginning to set over the mountains.

Beside me, an unfamiliar man who looks like he’s in his late twenties smiles down at me. There’s something expectant in his eyes, something flirty, and I fight the urge to roll my own.

Why anyone thinks the middle of the Pacific Crest Trail is an appropriate place to hit on someone, I’ll never understand.

I give him a small, tight-lipped smile that I hope reads as ‘not today, buddy’ before turning back to the view.

“Yeah,” is all I say, but he’s undeterred.

“So, you doing the whole PCT, or—”

His words cut off abruptly. When I look over, his eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open in shock. I follow his gaze and have to bite back a startled laugh.

Irving ambles out of the trees in his grizzly form, and the man at my side stumbles back, reaching for the can of bear spray on his belt loop.

“Don’t you dare,” I say, stepping to put myself between him and my grizzly.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he stutters, shoes skittering over the rocky ground as he takes a few more steps backward. “We gotta get out of here.”

“I’m good,” I say breezily. “But be careful going down the ridge. It’s a little steep.”

The other hiker looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, eyes going even wider when Irving steps forward, plunks down beside me, and gives me a nudge with his big, furry head.

“What the fuck?” the hiker sputters. “What—what the hell is—”

Irving growls, showing off the set of truly terrifying teeth he has in this form, and the hiker trips over his own feet as he dashes off down the trail.

“Careful on the ridge!” I call after him, then turn to Irving. “Was that necessary?”

In a flash, he’s back in his human form. He hauls me up against his broad, naked chest.

“Yes.”

“Why? You scared the hell out of that poor guy.”

“He was looking at you like you’re some kind of meal to salivate over,” Irving grumbles. “And we both know the only one who gets to feast on you is me.”

I let out a huff of breath, but before I can retort, Irving nods toward the path he just appeared from.

“Found something I want to show you.”

I roll my eyes, but don’t protest when he grabs his pack from where he left it next to me before he went exploring, then takes my hand and leads me forward. He’s still bare-ass naked, but after a year and a half with my big, burly mountain man, I hardly bat an eye at seeing him in the buff out in the woods. I’ll keep a lookout for any other wayward thru-hikers, and toss him some pants to cover up if need be, but otherwise I’m not bothered by it in the slightest.

It’s just part of the grizzly shifter package, and it’s a package I very, very much enjoy looking at as he heads down a narrow trail and tugs me along with him. We hike for a couple of minutes before the trail opens up and a mountain stream comes into view.

I grin at him. “Perfect.”

It’s been a couple of days since we last bathed, and while it’s all part and parcel of this long, incredible trip we’ve been on all summer, I always relish the chance to splash some water on myself to chase away the worst of the grime.

Irving and I do just that, taking turns dipping into the freezing cold stream. When we’re done freshening up, we get dressed and trek back to the trail. We use the last of the daylight to make it to the small, secluded spot we had marked on the map as a possible campsite.

It’s empty. Mr. Nice-Weather-We’re-Having apparently decided he didn’t want to stick around and risk another run-in with a huge, snarly grizzly.

Irving and I get to work setting up camp as the sun sets over the mountain.

It’s a perfect evening, one of the dwindling number of days we have left as we approach the end of our hike.

This summer has been absolutely incredible, and the year of training and prep we did beforehand is more than worth it as I breathe the mountain air deep and savor the beauty of the moment.

And, as always, that appreciation also includes the beauty of the man I’ve fallen so very deeply in love with since that day he rescued me from the woods.

I moved up to Irving’s cabin almost six months to the day after we first met, and while that might be fast in some people's books, it felt just right for us. I haven’t regretted it for a second, and each new season on the mountain has brought something new to be grateful for. It’s a slower, quieter life than I had before, but one that suits me perfectly.

Just before we left on this trip, I quit the biotech company I worked for in Seattle. I’d been working remote since I moved up to the cabin, but at the end of the day it was just… enough.

Enough grind. Enough striving. Enough of always trying to measure myself by someone else’s ruler and someone else’s definition of success.

It was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done, but I’ve already got some freelance programming and consulting work set up for when we get back from our hike, and the exhale of leaving corporate life behind was more than worth the risk.

It’s just one more thing to be grateful for as I draw the fresh mountain air deep into my lungs and meet Irving’s eye where he’s getting something from his pack, all the love in the world shining back at me.

Irving

My heart beats fast and heavy in my chest the whole time Holly and I set up camp, and that beat nearly doubles when she glances over and smiles at me.

Her face is lit by the setting sun, and my chest clenches at the sight. Love and tenderness and soul–deep certainty wash over me as I return her smile before turning back to my pack.

The damn thing has felt like it weighs about a thousand pounds this whole trip, though it’s got nothing to do with the gear I’ve brought.

No, that weight is entirely because of a small velvet box I have tucked into the safest, most secure inner pocket of my pack, just waiting for the perfect moment.

And here, now, with the sun setting over the mountains and painting the sky in a wash of brilliant pink and orange, with just a few days left in this incredible summer we’ve spent together, it finally feels right.

While Holly’s busy straightening one of the tent poles, I sneak a hand into my pack, fingers already shaky as I draw out the box and tuck it into my pocket.

“Sweetheart,” I murmur, and she turns.

“Yeah?” she asks, and for a moment all I can do is stare at her, heart still hammering in my chest.

I’m fairly certain what her answer will be, but a wave of last-minute nerves settles over me.

Not because of Holly or because I’m doubting in the slightest this is what I want, but simply because I know there’s nothing I’ll ever want more.

Nothing. Not one single thing.

There’s never been anything more important to me than her.

So I hope I don’t fuck this up. I hope it’s what she wants, too.

I offer her my hand. “Come here.”

She gives me a bemused little smile, but takes my hand and lets me lead her a few steps away from camp, where the view opens up through a break in the trees and the splendor of the world stretches wide around us.

“Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Her smile softens, grows wider, though she still looks a little confused as she squeezes my hand. “I could say the same.”

Gods above, she’s beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I take a deep breath.

“Every single day of the last year and a half has been better than the last. Every single one. Everything I learn about you and every day we spend together only makes me love you more, and makes me more certain the two of us were meant to be together.”

Holly’s eyes widen, like she’s realizing this isn’t just a casual evening chat at camp, but I press on.

“I want to make you happy for the rest of your life. I want to take care of you and grow old with you and spend a lifetime with you. And that’s why I wanted to ask—” I fall to a knee and pull the ring box from where I stashed it in my pocket. “Will you marry me, Holly?”

There are tears sparkling in those brilliant blue eyes of hers, but I’m pretty sure they’re tears of joy as a heart-stopping grin spreads across her face and she lunges at me.

“Of course I will!”

Holly topples into me with a force that nearly knocks me on my ass, but I manage to stay upright as I catch her left hand. I pause for a moment, ring poised at the tip of her finger.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

The first of those tears slips from the corner of her eye, and I wipe it away with my thumb, cradling her cheek.

“I love you, too,” she says, and kisses me.

I kiss her back—long and thorough—sealing the sacred promise we’ve just made as I slide the ring onto her finger.

The kiss tastes like certainty, like forever, like everything we’ll ever need.

***

Thank you for reading Holly's Grizzly!