Page 1 of His Determined Bear

Chapter 1

Cooper

As I pulled up in front of the house I’d grown up in, the familiar sense of home washed over me like it always did. I hadn’t actually lived here in a long time, but it would always be home to me. This was the only place my mom and I had lived as far back as I could remember.

And thankfully, she still did.

I got out of the car and walked up the stone steps that led up to the single-story craftsman home. It had belonged to my grandparents, who I never knew since they had passed away before I was born. My mom was now the sole owner of our family home.

I didn’t bother knocking on the door since I had my own key, and mom knew I was on my way. She’d asked me to come over tonight, which was a bit unusual since this wasn't our standing mother-son dinner date night.

“Mom,” I called out the second I stepped into the house.

“In the kitchen,” she called back to me.

“You know you didn’t have to cook, right? I could have gotten us a reservation,” I called out as I made my way back to the kitchen. It had always been the hub of our house, and I’d done my homework at the old kitchen table in the corner. I had also learned to cook standing next to her at the large range that she had finally replaced last year.

As I made my way through the house to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but notice that it looked amazing. It seemed like every time I came to visit, there was something new. My mom had been renovating the house since January of this year. She’d started the renovation in her bedroom and office, and now seven months later, it looked completely different from when I was growing up. The crazy and impressive part was she’d done it all by herself, and she’d actually done a phenomenal job. Everything looked so light and airy compared to when I was growing up. The walls were now painted a creamy white, making the house feel bigger than it actually was.

When I entered the kitchen, I was surprised that she was almost done with the renovations. “Wow, Mom! The place looks amazing,” I said, looking around. “Did you really finish this all by yourself?”

She turned to face me with a proud grin on her face. “YouTube is a great resource. Do you know I didn’t have to buy one new thing?” She shrugged, “Well, almost….”

“So these are the old cabinets?” I asked, amazed that the cabinets were now white instead of the brown they’d been my whole life. “What about the tile? It looks like you changed those”.

She nodded, “I would have painted over the old ones, but this updates the house, increasing the value. And it’s much nicer, don’t you think?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer before adding, “When I saw this design, I just had to have it.” It was a… I narrowed my eyes. Was that a hexagon, or maybe it was an octagon shape? It was actually a nice change, especially compared to the old brown ones. The countertops had been upgraded to a lovely white marble with light grey streaks. It had been grey laminate—I think that’s what they called it. This was much, much better.

Wait a minute. I frowned as her words suddenly hit me. Why would she worry about the value? We’d owned the house for as long as I could remember. After my grandparents died, it went straight to mom. Free and clear with no mortgage to worry about.

“Is everything okay, mom?” I asked. If she needed help, I hoped she knew all she had to do was ask. I would do anything for her. It had just been her and me forever, and even though my sperm donor had vanished after she told him she wouldn’t be getting rid of me, I’d never felt like I was a burden to her a single day.

“Of course it is, love,” she looked up from the gravy she was stirring and shot me a smile.

Why didn’t I believe her? Or rather, why did I feel like there was something she was keeping from me. Actually, now that I think about it, I’d had that feeling for the past couple of months. My mom and I were close since it had been just the two of us for so long. The two amigos. I knew her as well as she knew me. Which was why I was certain there was something she wasn’t saying.

“Mom—” but before I could say more, she interrupted me.

“I know, I know I didn’t have to cook,” she said. “But I wanted to. You know how much I love cooking for you.”

I smiled because that was true. My mom loved to cook, nothing super fancy, but good food that always tasted amazing. And there weren’t many recipes that she couldn’t recreate just by reading the recipe or watching a video. She was why I loved food so much and was successful at my job.

“I wanted to take you to this new restaurant that just opened in town,” I said. “It’s had some amazing reviews.” Although my review was not one of them.

My mom snorted, “But not yours, right?” She shook her head, “I love you, baby, but I’ll pass on the food snobbery tonight. Besides, I thought we could stay in and make a night of it.”

“I’m not a food snob, but bad food is bad food,” I shrugged, “you taught me that.”

“Yes, I agree with you a hundred percent, sweetheart. So how about we have some good homemade food then.” She nodded to the cupboard left of the stove, “Can you grab some plates and set the table? The chicken should be perfect in about eight minutes, and the mashed potatoes and green beans are in the warmer with the rolls.” She smiled over her shoulder at me, and I nodded, moving to do as I was told even as my brain screamed, what the fuck was going on?

This entire scene was weird. It wasn’t that mom didn’t cook or that she didn’t go all out from time to time. But she’d only called me yesterday to ask if I wanted to have dinner tonight. It was a Wednesday, and I usually had dinner with her on Sundays. We met for brunch once in a while on a random Saturday, and even during the week, I stopped by whenever I was available. My mom was a planner, not a spur of the moment type of person. The fact that she’d specifically called me last night to set up dinner for tonight, and she made my favorite roasted herb chicken, which she very well knew was my weakness, had me convinced that something had to be up.

Unfortunately, in this instance, I was just like my mom. So I knew she wouldn’t tell me what was going on until she was good and ready. I figured getting the food on the table would speed up the process, so I got to it.

My stomach growled when I got a look at the creamy whipped potatoes that I knew would be bursting with a buttery flavor and melt in my mouth. And the green beans were perfectly cooked in beef broth, just as I liked them. The last nail in the coffin was that she made the milky rolls I adored, too. Yeah, something was definitely up.

I watched mom pour the gravy into Nana’s gravy boat before pulling the chicken out of the oven. The skin was perfectly crisp, and the smell of thyme and rosemary made my mouth water. She was beautiful and graceful, and her movement spoke of her past as an athlete before I came along.

She must have felt my eyes on her because she looked up at me and shot me a smile. “Almost ready to eat. Everything is fine, Coop, stop worrying.”