Coral could have sworn that the woman glanced significantly at Flint when she mentioned getting married and having cubs.
Good lord, did this woman know her mother? Had they been secretly conversing? She wouldn’t put it past them. There was nothing like a shifter mama determined to marry off her children.
Flint shot her a look of amusement over his shoulder as he walked away. Dang it. Ganged up on by bears. She didn’t stand a chance.
Chapter Twelve
Flint’s family lived in a three-story white clapboard-sided house, with a wraparound porch and a rooster weathervane. A construction crew was working on the house, adding another wing to it. They seemed to be working into the night, with floodlights illuminating their workspace.
Flint greeted her at the door, wearing jeans and a t-shirt that showed off the swell of his biceps. He pulled Coral to him and crushed her in a bear hug, and then brushed his lips against hers for a quick, delicious kiss.
Damn the bear, it was hard to stay angry at him when he always looked good enough to eat, smelled like honey, and was so sexy she wanted to kiss him all over.
“We’re still at an impasse,” she informed him. “And I’m still mad at you for snitching on me to the sheriff’s office.”
“I’ll make you change your mind. I have my ways,” he grinned.
She followed him in to the house, and he led her into the kitchen. It was a chef’s dream kitchen. It was so big that her entire New York studio apartment could have fit in it. Twice.
There was a flagstone floor, a butcher block kitchen island bigger than a dining room table, and banks of hand crafted wooden cabinets with wrought iron handles. The gas stove had eight burners. The refrigerator was industrial sized, and there was a freezer right next to it. Bears were known for their hearty appetites. Coral was certainly down with that.
Blue, and the pretty young teenager who must have been Flint’s younger sister, were waiting for her in the kitchen.
There was a tray of delicious sticky honeybuns on the kitchen island, and a pot of tea and another pot of coffee brewing, which they urged on her. The teenager was introduced as Jemma.
I could get used to this, Coral thought.
Flint came in the kitchen. “I thought I’d help cook.”
“Since when?” his younger sister asked. “Oh, I get it,” she added knowingly. “You just want to be close to Coral. Because you loooove her.”
“Mom!” A furious Flint bellowed. He sounded like a mortified teenager.
Coral burst into laughter, and she saw Flint’s cheeks redden again. This was beautiful. Now she was really glad she’d come.
“Now, Jemma,” Blue chastised, as she pulled tubs of sour cream from the refrigerator and set them on the counter.
“This is my grandmother’s recipe,” she confided to Coral. “You’ll love it. I already made a copy of it for you.” She handed Coral an index card, which had a printed picture of pies on top of it. The recipe had been written on it in curly blue pen.
Coral tucked it in her purse.
Small town living suddenly didn’t seem so bad.
“Flint talks about you all the time. He says you’ve got the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. And he loves your hair. And he thinks you smell like honey and blueberries,” Jemma continued.
Flint let out a roar of anger and went charging after her, and she fled the room.
He came back in grumbling, and sat down at a bar stool by the butcher block island, helping himself to a honey bun.
Several other bear cub shifter children of varying ages wandering in to the kitchen, standing there and staring at Coral shyly, until Blue shooed them out.
The rest of the evening went swimmingly. They ate dinner in the huge dining room, at a table set for twenty. Several of Flint’s cousins and their families were there, as well as Flint and his family.
Coral sat next to Flint, with Blue on her other side. Flint’s father was an older version of Flint, with a thick head of gray hair and glasses. He and Blue actually held hands under the table, and Coral felt a wave of envy roll over her. What must it be like, to still be so in love after decades of marriage?
Other than the fact that Blue kept dropping heavy handed hints about how great Flint was with his younger brother and sister cubs, and what a wonderful father he’d make, and how New York was so dangerous and it was a good thing that Coral was here in Blue Moon where it was safe, it wasn’t awkward at all.
After dinner, Coral thanked Blue for a lovely meal, and Blue promptly invited her back the next night.
“Flint will be here, won’t you, dear?” she said, patting her son on the arm.
“I might have to cover a school board meeting,” Coral said.
“Mom, let the poor girl breathe,” Flint chided. “She’ll come back for dinner again, I promise.”
As they climbed in Flint’s car, Coral’s phone rang.
“Hello, mother, I’m kind of busy right now. Can I call you tomorrow?” she said as Flint started up the car.
“So, he already took you to meet his mother? That’s a good sign!” her mother said.