Page 43 of Gunnar

He glances at me. “What?”

“I guess I just… didn’t picture bears cooking eggs.”

A grin spreads across his face.

And it transforms him. He suddenly looks almost boyish, and so handsome…

“What did you think?” he says. “That we just tear hunks of meat off carcasses three times a day?”

“Something like that,” I say, distracted by the dangerous little flutter in my chest.

He laughs.

“Orson probably would,” he says. “It’s been a challenge convincing him not to eat the livestock before cooking it.”

“Oh my god,” I say and I laugh with him to cover the sudden warmth in my cheeks.

“But Torin and I spent part of our childhood around humans,” Gunnar continues, pulling a cast-iron skillet from the rack and setting it on the stove. “We learned about things like heat and seasoning.”

He cracks two eggs one-handed against the edge of the pan, dropping them neatly into the sizzling butter.

“How do you like them?”

“Over easy,” I say quickly.

He nods and focuses on the pan.

“Toast?” he mutters after a minute.

“Yeah. But let me⁠—”

Gunnar tips his head toward the door at the back “Bread’s in the freezer outside.”

I follow his lead, going through a utility room, then through a back door. Cold air bites through my sweatshirt as I pull open the lid of a chest freezer sitting alongside the rear wall. It’s not switched on, but the loaf of bread I find is pretty much frozen.

Back inside, I hand it to Gunnar, and he slides several slices under the oven grill.

“What was this place?” I ask, eyeing a huge electric toaster abandoned in a corner.

“Well, it was a guesthouse for a long time.” He flips the eggs, his jaw set with concentration. “Till it went bankrupt. Too remote. Roads are impassable all winter and it doesn’t have any of that tourist crap people expect on vacation.”

“Tourist crap?” I echo, fighting a smile.

“Hot tubs. Spa treatments. Wi-Fi strong enough to stream movies.”

I give an exaggerated shudder. “That does sound awful,” I say gravely.

“Right?” he agrees.

“So guests had to survive with nothing but… mountains and fresh air?”

“Barbaric, I know.”

“So, it closed?”

“Went into liquidation,” he says. “Nobody wanted it.”

He yanks out the grill tray and dumps it on the counter.