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)
All soft and happy inside as they turned around to start making their way back to their borrowed residence, he took out his phone.
“Nightly check-in on your list?” Pavel finished off the last bit of his cone in a crisp crunch.
“I asked Canto if he wanted me to drop by and cook him a meal or two since I know he’s alone this week with Payal on that emergency trip to Singapore. He never eats well when they’re apart. Just checking on his reply.”
Leaning in, Pavel peered unashamedly at Arwen’s phone screen . . . and chuckled. “ ‘Dear Arwen,’ ” he read out, “ ‘I still have seventeen frozen meals from your last meal prep session. And the bears keep dropping off random cakes. I found a fucking pavlova on the deck this morning. What do I need with a pavlova? No goddamn peace around here.’ ”
Smile on his lips, Pavel pressed a kiss to Arwen’s cheek. “You’re good at taking care of your people. Even ungrateful grumps like your cousin. Want me to beat him up for you?”
Mollified, Arwen said, “No, he’s safe from your wrath today.” Because that wasn’t the end of Canto’s message.
Below the grumpfest were the words: Thank you for the reminder to eat, little cousin. I do actually forget when Payal isn’t here. Because when Payal was there, Canto was focused on taking care of her—as she was in reverse. They were adorable. Two outward hard-asses who’d found their perfect match.
Canto had also added: I’m going to try a piece of that ludicrous pavlova. It’s got sliced kiwi on top of it! Where the hell did the bears get sliced kiwi, that’s what I want to know.
Grinning as he read that part of the message out loud to an amused Pavel, Arwen quickly tapped back a reply, then scrolled on. Lazily content by his side, his presence that of a satisfied bear, Pavel listened as Arwen gave him updates on the others on what Pavel had named “The List.”
“My little cousin—the one you met two weeks ago? She doesn’t know what to study at university. I’m going to help her apply for a couple of work-study programs, help her figure out her path.”
Pavel squeezed his waist, his expression tender when their eyes met. “I love how you love your people, moy svetlyi luchik.”
Arwen was used to Pavel’s affectionate words, but his heart went to mush every time his bear called him his ray of light. Leaning down, Arwen peppered his face with kisses.
Deep grooves in Pavel’s cheeks, his love for Arwen a bear’s hug.
Arwen loved so much about Pavel, but his generosity with Arwen’s heart was a big part of it. Arwen didn’t know how to be any other way, how not to “collect” people as Grandmother put it, and to look after them.
While Pavel was possessive, had actually growled at those who’d thought to hit on Arwen, he’d never once been possessive about Arwen’s empathic heart. And it wasn’t a case of him passively accepting that part of Arwen—no, his Pasha bear actively helped Arwen look after his people.
Whether that was by dropping off care packages when Arwen couldn’t, or by checking in on certain individuals when Arwen was out of town. He’d even once put on his “big boy pants”—his own words—and bearded Ena in her den after Arwen’s grandmother had gone under for a touch too long for Arwen’s liking, while Arwen was on an educational retreat with fellow empaths.
“Your grandmother is flat-out terrifying,” Pavel had said afterward, wiping imaginary sweat off his brow. “When she offered me tea, I was pretty sure she was going to poison me. She invited me to play a game of chess instead—and beat my ass to all hell. Brutal, man, brutal.”
Arwen, meanwhile, had received a message from his grandmother in the aftermath: You’re both invited to the Sea House in a week’s time, after your return from the retreat. Tell your bear that the dress code is formal—and by formal, I do not mean a new T-shirt.
Arwen had pumped his fist in the air like a damn wind-up toy. Invitations to the Sea House were the highest possible honor in their family. His bighearted bear had done good.
“Come on, sweet stuff,” Pasha said now, his cheeks still creased from the impact of the kiss storm. “You can pet me more at home.”
Arwen had every intention of doing exactly that, but as a shirtless and shoeless Pavel wandered out of the guest room and into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, he found himself standing there with his designer shirt in his hands, and the words of others running through his head.
You helped me feel real, Arwen. At a time when I felt the ghost.
Thank you, little brother.
We wouldn’t be the family we are without you. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating your own gifts because they’re different from ours.