Page 70 of Beastly Mountain Man

That was unusual enough.

More surprising was the fact that my first thought hadn’t been about the laptop waiting in the rental cabin.

It had been that Lucky was still beside me.

I shifted carefully onto my side.

He was asleep deeply enough that the movement didn’t wake him. His face looked different without the constant animation of conversation behind it. Not younger or softer. Just asleep, which was apparently enough to make me want to touch him.

I resisted the beard.

Mostly because Bear chose that moment to snort loudly from the floor, roll onto his side, and kick one back foot against the bed frame.

Lucky’s eyes opened.

He looked at the ceiling for half a second, then turned his head toward me.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

His voice was rough with sleep.

I smiled. “You’re still here.”

His brows lifted slightly. “It’s my bed.”

“That is a technically excellent response to an emotionally different observation.”

A smile spread across his face.

“Then yes. I’m still here.”

That answer was better.

Bear stretched on the floor, front legs reaching until his nails scraped lightly against the rug. His enormous yawn ended in a groan dramatic enough to suggest our nap had inconvenienced him.

Lucky glanced toward the foot of the bed. “Apparently he’s awake too.”

“He gave us plenty of warning.”

“He likes to announce transitions.”

Bear got up, shook hard enough to make his collar rattle, then planted his chin on the mattress beside my knee.

I rubbed the top of his head.

“Good afternoon.”

His tail hit the dresser.

Lucky reached for his phone from the nightstand, then paused. “Do you actually want to know what time it is?”

I considered the question.

“That depends. Is it horrifying?”

“No.”