Page 18 of Bearly Ever After (Bear Creek Forever #5)

After the tour of the winery, they headed back to the house. Hugo and Leanne’s home was as welcoming as the people who lived in it. Nicole instantly fell in love with the airy, stylish home that reminded her of a hacienda, full of bright tiles and smooth stucco walls. Everywhere there were subtle influences from Leanne’s and Hugo’s travels abroad, from hand-painted ceramics, woven tapestries, and rich earth-toned rugs. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a true reflection of its owners.

And then there was the wine that Hugo insisted on opening for her to taste. And what a taste!

After inhaling the delicious aroma of the first wine, a deep red Garnacha, Nicole took her first sip, savoring the intense flavors as she rolled the liquid over her tongue. “It’s as if you can taste the mountain in this wine,” she murmured, astonished at the subtle notes of black cherry, honey, and spices swirling in her mouth.

Hugo, standing across the wide wooden kitchen table, beamed with pride. “We have the pure mountain spring to thank for that,” he explained, folding his hands together. “There’s a natural spring at the top of the valley. Its water lends a brightness and vitality to our grapes and our wines.”

Nicole’s eyes lit up at the mention of the spring. “I’d like to see it one day,” she said, imagining the cool water trickling over mossy stones beneath towering evergreens. “Perhaps take some pictures.”

Leanne glanced meaningfully at Klein, who was halfway through a sip of wine. He nearly choked at his aunt’s direct stare. Clearing his throat, Klein set down his glass. “Yes,” he managed to say as he looked at Nicole and gave a small shrug as if caught off guard. “Of course.”

“Why not now?” Leanne suggested.

“Oh…” Nicole glanced at the wine bottles standing proudly on the kitchen table. “I didn’t mean right this moment. I thought we’d discuss your wines and my plans for them first.”

Hugo reached for a bottle and pressed it into Klein’s hand. “The best way to truly understand the wine,” he said, “is to experience it in the natural surroundings. And by that I mean the spring that waters the vines. The greatest lesson is the one that is learned naturally from the land itself.”

Leanne’s eyebrows flicked upward, and she nodded in agreement. “Sit by the spring, sip the wine, listen to the sound of the water rushing by, and close your eyes. Let the valley speak to you,” she said as her voice took on a dreamy tone. “Only then will you learn the true nature of…” She glanced at Klein once more. “Our wine.”

“The wine,” Klein said, with a note of relief.

Nicole, once again, had the feeling that she was missing something. As if there was a secret untold. At least to her.

However, the thought of being out there alone with Klein was appealing. More than appealing. She had spent a fair amount of time with him since her arrival in Bear Creek, but barely a moment of that time had been just the two of them. Now was her chance.

“If you insist,” she said, draining the last drop in her glass. It was too good to waste, but the effects of alcohol were starting to kick in, reminding her she really needed to eat something. But a walk in the fresh air to the spring would clear her head.

“We do.” Leanne shot Klein a knowing smile before she switched her attention back to Nicole. “Then you’ll be a part of our story, too.”

The words were so appealing. Part of their story. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? To belong to this wonderful family.

“Shall we?” Klein stepped forward and offered her his arm.

“Thanks.” She slipped hers through his, feeling the now familiar sense of connection. One she was beginning to crave. As if Klein was an addiction she would never get enough of.

“Take your time,” Leanne called after them as they stepped outside into the late morning sun.

“We will,” Klein assured her aunt, guiding Nicole toward his truck. He wore that smile that made her heart do a funny little skip.

“We’re driving to the spring?” Nicole asked.

Klein shook his head with a chuckle. “Not exactly.” He released her arm, circled around to the back of the truck, and returned carrying a woven picnic basket.

Nicole’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Did you all plan this?”

“Not exactly,” Klein repeated, looking a little bashful. “But I hoped we might have a chance to enjoy a picnic together.” He leaned in a fraction, his voice low as if sharing a secret. “Just you and me.”

“I’d like that,” Nicole admitted and slipped her arm back through his as they made their way along the edge of the vine rows.

“Then let’s go. It’s not too far.” The sound of distant birdsong drifted toward them from the forest, as if serenading them.

The day had taken on a dream-like quality, but the gentle weight of his arm under her hand reassured her that this was real. She felt pleasantly lightheaded, but whether it was from the wine or Klein’s presence, she couldn’t be certain. But whatever the cause, she liked it. “It feels as if I haven’t stopped moving since Mila and I arrived.”

“I feel a little to blame for that,” Klein admitted.

“No, you’ve been wonderful,” Nicole replied, squeezing his arm lightly. “You’ve made everything so much easier. When I walk into the co-op office on my first day, I’ll feel less like an outsider. Less like I don’t belong.”

Klein’s expression turned serious. “You’re not an outsider,” he assured her.

Nicole’s breath hitched at his sincerity. “I always thought that unless you were born in a small town like this, you’d never really fit in. I’m glad to say I was wrong.”

Klein suddenly tilted his head and pointed upward. “Look.”

An eagle soared overhead, gliding lazily on a thermal, its silhouette stark against the bright sky. “Wow,” she breathed. “Magnificent.”

“When you have more time,” Klein said, “I could show you and Mila the mountains. We could pack some food and sleeping bags, and spend a night under the stars.”

“That would be incredible,” Nicole said, imagining Mila’s delight at the idea. “I want Mila to experience all of this, to feel at home here. To know what Bear Creek can offer.”

“Then it’s a date,” Klein murmured, and she wished he would lean down and kiss her, but she didn’t want to misread his kindness and ruin this easy comfort between them.

They walked on in companionable silence, the only sound around them being the distant call of the eagle and the steady crunch of their feet on the gravel path beneath them. The trail led them to the edge of the woods, where tall trees swayed gently, their leafy boughs offering shade and a sense of seclusion.

“The trees grow here because of the spring,” Klein explained as they stepped under the green canopy and into the shade. The air cooled instantly and the eagle’s cry was replaced by the rustle of leaves and the gurgle of a nearby stream.

“This is perfect,” Nicole said, glancing back toward the vineyard. “The ranch and the vineyard feel so different. Where the ranch is rugged and wild, this place is softer and warmer. More intimate.”

She turned away from the vineyard and leaned into Klein as they continued, following the sound of the stream. It felt so natural being here with him. As if they had walked this walk a thousand times, arm in arm, side by side. Always together. Never apart.

“We can picnic just up here,” Klein said, stepping to the left. As she followed, Nicole caught her first glimpse of the stream as the sunlight reflected off the spring’s surface like a million diamonds.

They continued a little farther until they reached the banks of the stream. Klein let go of her arm and carefully set down the picnic basket. He hunkered down next to it and unlatched it, opening the lid to reveal a striped picnic blanket. He pulled it out and spread it on a patch of lush grass.

“Is this okay?” he asked, glancing up at her.

“Absolutely.” Nicole tucked her dress under her as she sat down, and as she settled into a comfortable position, he joined her. His thighs brushed against hers and she leaned closer, savoring the warmth of his touch. Her heart thrummed at the nearness of him.

He looked down at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gave a small smile. “Hungry?”

For you, she said, but only to herself. She wished she was braver.

Klein reached into the basket and produced sandwiches and a sweet-smelling pie, likely plum judging by the aroma that teased her senses. “I can’t take all the credit,” he admitted with a slight grin. “My brothers’ mates took pity on me and rallied around.”

Mates. Nicole felt a pleasant shiver at the word. It popped up so often around these parts, always spoken with reverence and meaning. “I’d love to meet them all,” she said quietly. “I’ve never really had a support network like that.” She paused, searching for the right words. “Not that I’m expecting…” Her voice trailed off, not wanting to come across as ungrateful or demanding toward the Thornberg family who had already been so generous and kind to her.

Klein’s gaze was filled with understanding. “I know what you mean,” he said, placing a hand over hers for a brief second before reaching for a sandwich. “And don’t worry—they can’t wait to meet you, too.”

He spoke as if she were already woven into the fabric of his life. And she realized, with a soft ache in her heart, that was exactly what she wanted. To be woven into his family, his world. To be a part of their story.

“Why don’t we open the wine?” Klein said and reached into the basket for a corkscrew and two wine glasses.

“You came prepared,” she said, forcing a light tone as she tried to hide the intensity of feelings surging within her.

“As a rancher, I have learned to always be prepared.” He uncorked the bottle with a smooth twist and poured the deep red liquid into their glasses. The wine glimmered in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

Nicole accepted her glass, her fingers brushing his, lingering a moment longer than necessary. She took a sip, savoring the rich flavor. The wine tasted even better here by the spring. The mountain’s essence infused in every drop.

“Mmm,” she murmured appreciatively. “Hugo was right. Drinking this wine here makes me feel more connected.”

Klein watched her, his gaze intent. “Nicole…”

Maybe it was the wine, or the sound of the spring bubbling up from the ground on the start of its journey toward the creek and the ocean beyond. Or maybe she was simply tired of denying herself love. Or at least the chance of love.

Or maybe it was all those things combined that gave her courage. Made her brave.

Brave enough to lick her lips as she leaned forward, her eyes fixed on his lips. Lips she wanted to taste more than the sweetest wine.

Klein’s eyes widened slightly as Nicole leaned closer, but thankfully, he didn’t pull away. If he had, she would have been mortified.

Not because of his rejection, but because if she had misjudged his feelings for her, she would have ruined this perfect moment.

And she might have ruined her new start in Bear Creek.

Instead, his gaze dropped to her lips, then rose to meet her eyes. In that shared look, Nicole saw her own longing reflected back at her, along with a question—a silent question asking for permission.

In answer, Nicole closed the remaining distance between them, pressing her lips softly against his. Klein’s hand came up to cradle her cheek, his touch was feather-light as if she were something precious, delicate.

And then, at last, his lips moved gently over hers, the kiss sweet and unhurried, a savoring of the moment.

Nicole sighed into the kiss, her body melting against his. Klein’s arm slid around her waist, drawing her closer until she was nearly in his lap. The solid warmth of him, the way he held her so tenderly, made her feel cherished, and desired. Loved.

When they finally parted, Nicole kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, committing the feel of his lips on hers to memory. She heard Klein’s soft exhale and felt his thumb brush her cheekbone. Slowly, she opened her eyes to find him watching her, his gaze filled with wonder.

Then he said, “Nicole, there’s something I need to tell you.”