Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Throwing back his head, Pavel laughed that big beautiful laugh that was a lethal weapon. “Oh, moy luchik,” he murmured, waves of affection blanketing Arwen’s senses in a bearish caress, “you are the number one hoverer among all the hoverers I know.”
Arwen tried to look affronted. It was difficult. When Pavel laughed like that, with such good humor, it lit up Arwen’s entire world. “I just know how to look after my people,” he said primly. “Anyway, he’s fine. Settling into the pack like ‘a born cat’—as per my confidential source in the pack.”
Pavel rubbed his jaw. “I can see it. Mercants definitely remind me of cats. Slinky, smart, stealthy—and loyal to the core. My Mercant, though, he also has a heart big enough to love the entire world.” His voice softened on that last, those gorgeous eyes of his touched by the bear’s yellow-hued amber as he leaned in toward Arwen.
“So,” boomed Dedushka Viktor’s voice, “when are you two giving me great-grandchildren? I’m not getting any younger. And I know you already have volunteers willing to step up for the hardest part of the whole operation. Heat each other up, produce fresh seed, and next thing you know, DNA is spliced and you have a cub born of both of you and their mother.”
Groaning, Pavel turned and dropped his head to the table, proceeding to bang his forehead against it in a repetitive motion. Arwen, well used to dealing with a strong-willed grandparent, rose to his feet and held out his hand to Pavel’s maternal grandfather. “We’re not mature enough yet,” he said with a straight face. “Maybe in a decade or three.”
Instead of shaking his hand, the redheaded man responsible for the astonishing aqua green of Pavel’s eyes reached out to clap big tanned hands on either side of Arwen’s face. “Smartass.” A grin that lit up those familiar eyes. “Perfect fit for the family.” Then he pressed a kiss on Arwen’s forehead before releasing him from his grip.
Arwen couldn’t stop smiling as he walked around the table to greet Pavel’s babushka Quyen. As tall as Pavel but with bones as fine as a bird’s, Pavel’s grandmother—and Viktor’s mate—was as sweet as her husband was salty. She also gave the most amazing hugs with those thin but strong arms.
As he received one of her magic hugs, Arwen thought again of how he loved this—that Pavel’s family was as tight as his own.
The only reason Pavel’s paternal grandparents weren’t going to be at this dinner was that they’d gone to China to spend a couple of months with their daughter’s family. She’d mated into a clan of black bears there, and had recently given birth to a cub. Which might explain Dedushka Viktor’s desire to hurry Pavel and Arwen along.
Cub fever. It was contagious.
“Viktor,” Babushka Quyen said after she’d greeted Arwen. “Leave the boys alone. You know it embarrasses the young generation.” A confused wave of the hand at the clearly newfangled thinking. “We’re not supposed to know about the sex that produces the seed,” she said in a whisper no doubt heard from one end of the room to the other.
An unrelated bear out on a date doubled over in a sudden coughing fit just then.
Feeling his skin go bright red, Arwen returned to his seat beside Pavel, then dropped his face to the table and began to bang his forehead against the honey-colored wood of it.
Pavel patted his back. “It gets better. After a while, your forehead becomes stronger, doesn’t hurt as much.”
Arwen’s shoulders shook at his lover’s commiserating tone, and he was laughing out loud by the time he sat back up. Embarrassment of their grandcub complete for the moment, Pavel’s grandparents had taken the seats across from them and were discussing the menu, but the whole table erupted into movement again when Mila and Akili walked in.
Pavel’s tall and stunning mother, with those brilliant Kuznets family eyes and hair as red as passion, had grilled Arwen up one side and down the other when he first began to date Pavel.
Arwen absolutely adored her.
He’d grown up in a family of powerful and loving women, and was predisposed to worship their badassery.
To his great relief, the emotion was mutual.
When he rose to greet her, she kissed him on both cheeks, then pushed one lapel of his blazer aside so she could see the detail on his shirt. “What an intricate and creative design,” said the only bear in the family who cared about fashion—as evidenced by the stylish green off-the-shoulder sweater she’d paired with formfitting black jeans and black boots with visible silver zippers.
“And ai, my Pavka is still wearing that old T-shirt. People will think StoneWater doesn’t pay you,” she scolded her son, even as her love wrapped him up in a hug even before she kissed his cheeks.