Page 16 of Guard Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #5)

Chapter

Fourteen

Joy arranged the last row of honey jars on her display table, the morning sun glowing in the amber liquid. The farmers market hummed with Saturday energy. Vendors called greetings across the aisles while early customers wandered between booths, canvas bags ready for the day's treasures.

Andre moved between the neighboring stalls with easy grace.

He helped Ellen Cooper adjust her pottery display when the table wobbled on uneven ground.

His laugh carried across the town square as he caught a box of strawberries before it could tumble from a truck.

Joy's mountain lion purred at the sight.

This was what she'd hoped for. Partnership.

"Morning, Joy." Holly appeared at the edge of Joy's booth, arms full of a box of delicate glass ornaments. Her friend's eyes sparkled with barely contained delight as she glanced between Joy and Andre.

Joy smiled back, no words needed between them. Holly had waited years for this moment, watching Joy refresh that mate.com page night after night. Now here they were, setting up their booths side by side while Joy's mate helped their community.

The market filled steadily. Families with strollers navigated the narrow aisles. Dogs on leashes sniffed hopefully at the jerky vendor's samples. The coffee booth's espresso machine hissed its familiar morning song.

"Artisan honey?" A man's voice cut through the comfortable chaos. "This is exactly what I've been looking for."

Joy looked up from making change for a customer. The speaker stood at her table's edge, examining her products. He was handsome and in his early thirties, wearing high-end business-casual clothing.

"I cold-extract to preserve the enzymes," Joy explained, slipping into her familiar sales rhythm. "Each batch comes from different flowering seasons. The wildflower is from late spring, the clover from midsummer."

He leaned against her table, his weight making the cloth shift slightly. "Fascinating process. Must be challenging, running such a small operation these days."

Joy's hands froze on the cash box. Something in his tone made her inner mountain lion's ears flatten and hackles rise.

"Especially with all the... incidents around town." His eyes never left hers, pale blue and unblinking. "A beautiful woman shouldn't have to worry about security."

Her lion went stock still, sensing another predator. This man looked at her the way her uncle Leland studied cattle prices. Measuring. Calculated.

The familiar warmth of Andre's presence materialized beside her. His hand found the small of her back.

"Can I help you with something?" Andre's voice was mild, but Joy felt the tension thrumming through his palm.

The stranger's gaze shifted to Andre, a small smile playing at his lips. He took in their positioning, Andre's defensive stance, the protective hand. His amusement made Joy's skin crawl.

"Just appreciating local talent." He selected a single jar of wildflower honey, the smallest size she offered. "I'll take this one."

Joy processed the sale on autopilot. Her fingers felt clumsy as she wrapped the jar in tissue paper, applied the small bee sticker that sealed it closed, and put it in a little shopping bag. The man pulled out his wallet with deliberate slowness.

"Ryan Holbrook." He extended a business card along with a twenty-dollar bill. "Pacific Northwest Investments."

The card stock felt expensive between her fingers. Raised lettering. Watermark. A box of these probably cost more than she spent on groceries.

"In case you ever need... options." His gaze swept over her modest setup, lingering on the cash box, the handwritten price cards. "The market can be unpredictable. Especially for operations like yours."

He pocketed his change without counting it. His eyes found hers one more time, that calculating look intensifying. "Enjoy your day. What's left of it."

Joy watched him walk away, her lion tracking his movement through the crowd. He stopped at three more booths. The leather goods stall. The pottery display. Sweet Summit's small bakery setup. The same careful examination at each stop.

Andre's hand hadn't moved from her back. If anything, his touch had grown heavier, more possessive. She could feel the tremor running through his muscles, the effort it took not to chase Ryan Holbrook through the market.

"Joy!" Mr. Patterson's cheerful voice made them both jump. "Don't you look pretty as a picture this morning. That blue brings out your eyes."

A sound rumbled from Andre's chest. Low. Threatening. Unmistakably bear. Mr. Patterson took a step back, his smile faltering. He'd been buying honey from her for three years, complementing her with the same practiced charm he used on everyone.

"The usual order?" Joy forced brightness into her voice, but her hands shook as she gathered his standard items. Two jars of clover honey. One beeswax candle.

Andre shifted closer, his body angling to block her from view. Not just from Mr. Patterson, but from anyone passing by. His presence loomed, throwing shadows across her display. What had been protective comfort moments ago now felt like a wall.

"Actually," Mr. Patterson fumbled with his wallet. “I forgot something in my car.”

He left, and Joy's stomach sank. That was thirty dollars in sales. Gone because Andre couldn't control his bear.

The morning crowd had reached full strength, but customers gave her booth a wide berth. She turned to look at Andre. His eyes and posture made him look both intimidating and unhinged. She widened her eyes and huffed, turning back to her customers.

Another regular approached, saw Andre's expression, and veered toward the pottery booth instead. Joy's hands curled into fists.

"Andre, could you help me with something?" Holly's voice cut through the tension. Her friend stood at Andre's elbow, fingers wrapped around his forearm. "I need someone tall."

She didn't wait for agreement, just tugged. Andre resisted for a moment, his bear clearly wanting to stay and guard. Holly tugged harder.

"Now, please."

They moved toward Holly's booth, but Joy caught fragments of their hushed conversation.

"You're scaring people," Holly hissed.

"He was hunting her." Andre's voice carried more growl than words. "The way he looked at her?—"

"Every man who smiles at Joy isn't hunting. You just cost her three sales in five minutes."

Joy served two more customers while they talked, her smile feeling brittle. Mrs. Hall bought extra soap. The teenager looking for a gift for his mother approached cautiously, relaxing only when he realized Andre had gone.

When the morning rush finally slowed, Joy found Andre behind her truck. He leaned against the tailgate, hands shoved deep in his pockets. The golden tinge had left his eyes, but tension still rolled off him in waves.

"We need to talk about what just happened."

His shoulders hunched. "I know."

"You went full territorial. At my business." She kept her voice low, aware of how sound carried between booths. "Mr. Patterson has been shopping with me for three years. He's seventy-eight and is an unrepentant charmer. He talks that way to literally everyone.”

"The way that man looked at you?—"

"What man? That businessman, Ryan?” Joy pulled the business card from her pocket. "Yes, he was calculating something. Yes, my lion didn't like him. But you know what? I handled it fine before you showed up."

Andre's hands came out of his pockets, clenching and unclenching. "I can't just stand there while some stranger?—"

"You have to." She stepped closer, meeting his gaze. "I'm yours. You know that. I know that. But you can't mark territory every time a customer talks to me."

His control cracked. "When he called you beautiful, when he looked at you like something he wanted to acquire, my bear?—"

"Your bear needs to trust that I can handle myself." She softened her voice, seeing the genuine struggle in his expression. "I run a business, Andre. I talk to strangers every day. Some of them are men. Some of them even think I'm pretty."

He scrubbed a hand over his face. The gesture made him look younger, uncertain. "I'm trying."

"I know." Joy slipped the business card back in her pocket. Something about Pacific Northwest Investments bothered her, but that was a problem for later. "But trying isn't enough when you're costing me customers."

Andre reached into his back pocket, pulling out a cream-colored envelope. "Holly and Elias gave me this. Said you needed to relax."

Joy recognized the Fate Mountain Lodge stationary. "Andre..."

"It's an overnight package, meals included." He held it out like a peace offering. "I thought maybe we could go tomorrow night. Get away from all this."

She took the envelope, feeling the quality paper between her fingers. "This is really sweet."

"I'm not trying to fix us," he said quietly. "I know I messed up today. I just... when I saw how he looked at you, all I could think about was claiming you. Making sure everyone knew you were mine."

Joy's chest tightened at his honesty. “Okay. We can go. But no claiming and no growling at hotel staff."

A surprised laugh rumbled through his chest. "I promise. Unless they look at you like?—"

"Andre."

"Kidding." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Mostly."