Philip crouched beside the middle row of vines, running his thumb along the underside of a leaf, inspecting for signs of stress or pests. There were none. The row was healthy, thriving, right on track.
But he checked again and then moved to the next one.
Are you planning on checking every single vine? his bear said with gentle amusement.
Philip grunted. I just want everything to look good.
His bear huffed. Everything already looks good. You’re fussing because you’re nervous. Which is adorable. But also unnecessary.
Philip ignored the teasing, straightening slowly and shielding his eyes from the late-afternoon sun. The rows stretched in tidy, green waves across the valley. Vines he’d nurtured year after year, season after season. He’d walked these rows through hailstorms, harvests, and heatwaves.
He knew every inch of this place.
It was like a second home.
But in all that time, nothing had ever unsettled him the way Elsbeth did.
Not in a bad way. In a way that made everything else feel too...mundane. Too routine.
As if life without her lacked color, vibrancy… He didn’t know how to explain it.
Because there are no words to explain the way we feel about our mate, his bear said.
No, Philip replied, moving down the row and gently adjusting a training wire. There were no words. Because words could never be enough to describe how she made him feel.
And the way she made him feel was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if his emotions were a vast ocean, deeper and more profound than he had ever imagined possible.
And last night...
The way she’d opened up about her mother, her dreams.
The way she’d let her guard down just enough for him to see the raw, hurting tenderness underneath.
It made his chest ache with something fierce, protective, primal.
Someone’s coming, his bear said as Philip reached down to pluck a tiny weed from the ground.
Dad. Philip looked up to see his father walking toward him, a pair of gloves tucked into his back pocket, and a smile on his weathered face. His gait was steady, deliberate, with the confidence of a man who had spent decades walking these rows.
“Been a while since I’ve seen you this nervous,” Hugo said, coming to stand beside him.
Philip chuckled under his breath. “Didn’t think I was that obvious.”
“You’re not,” Hugo replied, crouching to examine a vine. “But I’ve known you since you were born, son. And I know the difference between vineyard nerves and woman nerves.”
Philip groaned. “Please don’t call it that.”
Hugo laughed, clapping him on the back. “Fair enough.”
They stood in silence for a moment, the wind tugging gently at the leaves.
“She’s coming for dinner tonight,” Philip said eventually.
“I know.”
“I want it to go well.”
Hugo turned to look at him, eyes steady. “Why wouldn’t it?”
Philip hesitated. “Because she’s...been through a lot. Lost her mom not that long ago. I don’t want to overwhelm her. Or make her feel like she’s got to fill some space she’s not ready to.”
A space in our heart, his bear said.
Hugo’s gaze softened. “Just take it slow, one step at a time. There’s no need to rush things. You two will be together for the rest of your lives. You’ve waited this long. A little more time is not going to kill you…”
Philip chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not so sure.”
“I am,” Hugo said. “You are one of the most patient men I know, Philip. The vines have taught you that.”
Philip nodded, running his hand along the sturdy vine beside him. “I see what you mean. But it’s different with the vines. I know exactly what they need…water, sunlight, pruning at just the right time.” He sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. “With Elsbeth... It’s not that simple.”
Hugo’s face softened with understanding. He placed a hand on Philip’s shoulder, his touch as reassuring as ever. “Trust yourself, son. Trust your heart. It knows what to do even when your head doesn’t.”
“That’s just it,” Philip admitted. “Now that she’s actually here, I’m terrified of getting it wrong. What if I mistime everything? Move too slow and she thinks I’m not interested, or come on too strong before she’s ready?”
Hugo chuckled, the sound familiar and comforting. “You don’t think every shifter since the beginning of time has had those exact same thoughts?”
Philip gave a short laugh, some of the tension leaving his body. “What, you mean I’m not special?” He arched an eyebrow at his father, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile.
“Oh, you’re special all right,” Hugo laughed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “All our sons are. And I think Elsbeth already knows just how special you are.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “That’s all that matters.”
He gestured toward the house with a tilt of his head. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and leave these vines to do what they do best? Grow.”
Just as our love for Elsbeth will grow, his bear added dreamily.
Philip smiled, feeling lighter than he had all day. He peeled off his work gloves and tucked them into his back pocket. “Thanks, Dad.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father in a tight hug. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, son.” Hugo’s voice was gruff with emotion. “And if you ever need anything—advice or whatever—I’m here.”
Philip squeezed his father tighter. “I know. I’m incredibly grateful for that.”
“Now go wash up.” Hugo pulled back, giving Philip a gentle push toward the house. “Get ready for dinner. I’m sure your mate will appreciate it if you don’t have dirt under your fingernails.”
As he walked toward the house, he wondered what Elsbeth was doing right now. Was she nervous about tonight, too?
The screen door slammed shut behind Philip as he entered the kitchen. The warm aroma of garlic and herbs made his stomach growl. His mom stood at the stove, her back to him, humming softly as she stirred something that smelled divine.
“That smells amazing, Mom,” Philip said, bending to unlace his work boots.
Leanne turned, wooden spoon in hand, and smiled. “Garlic chicken. Your favorite.” Her eyes twinkled. “I hope Elsbeth will like it, too.”
Philip set his boots by the door and straightened up. “I have no idea what her favorite food is...yet. But I’m sure she’ll love whatever you cooked.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Leanne replied, turning back to the stove.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Philip offered as he padded over to the stove.
Leanne gave him a once-over and wrinkled her nose. “What you can do is go upstairs and take a shower. You smell like vineyard soil and hard work.” She waved the wooden spoon at him. “I’ve got everything covered down here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Philip said with a mock salute, already backing toward the stairs.
“And wear a clean shirt,” she called after him. “One that isn’t worn half through.”
“I will!” Philip called as he took the stairs two at a time, his bear practically skipping with anticipation.
In his bedroom, he peeled off his dirt-streaked clothes, tossing them into the hamper before stepping into the shower. The hot water cascaded over his shoulders, washing away the day’s toil.
As he worked shampoo through his hair, his thoughts drifted to Elsbeth. His father’s words echoed in his mind: Trust yourself. Trust your heart.
His bear rumbled contentedly. Dad is right. We’ve waited this long for our mate. What’s a little more time?
Says the bear who has been pestering me every minute of the day to reveal our true selves, Philip retorted.
I don’t know what you mean. His bear settled down and sighed contentedly. Our mate is worth waiting for.
Philip chuckled to himself as he rinsed the shampoo. “Patience,” he murmured aloud. The vineyard had been a great teacher, showing him the importance of watching, waiting, and trusting the process. He could already see Elsbeth opening up to him, like a flower unfurling its petals to the sun. All he needed to do was create the right conditions and trust fate to do the rest.
In the same way, he trusted the vines.
After toweling off, Philip pulled on clean jeans and a button-up shirt he’d bought some time ago but had never gotten around to wearing. He ran a hand through his damp hair and took a deep breath. The nerves were still there, but tempered now with a quiet confidence that everything would turn out all right.
It will, his bear said. It has to.
When he returned to the kitchen, Leanne turned from arranging flowers on the dining table and nodded approvingly. “That’s better. Much better.”
“Glad you approve,” Philip said. “Now, what can I do to help?”
“You can lay the table,” Leanne said as she checked the contents of the oven. “There’s just the four of us.”
“Okay,” Philip said, going to the cupboard for plates.
That’s a relief, his bear said. I had suspected everyone would have turned up to dinner to meet our mate.
So did I, Philip confessed, glad his mate was not going to be overwhelmed by the Thornberg clan.
“I figured Elsbeth could meet everyone else once you had explained everything to her.”
Everything. That was such a big, complicated word.
“Mom?” he asked as he set the table. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, honey.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know you can.”
“How did you feel when Dad told you…everything? About...us. About shifters.” The question had been weighing on him all day. He knew the story of how his dad had told his mom. But he’d never truly considered how Leanne might have felt.
Leanne’s laugh was as warm and rich as the sauce she was stirring on the stove. “Relieved.”
“Relieved?” Philip paused, plate in hand. “Because you knew there was a connection between you, but you didn’t know exactly what it was?”
“Oh no,” Leanne replied, stirring the sauce one final time. “I was relieved he wasn’t an axe murderer, or something.”
“An axe murderer?” Philip turned his full attention to his mom.
Does Dad have a secret past we are not aware of? his bear asked.
I have no clue, Philip replied.
“Well, I could tell he was hiding something from me, and I didn’t think he was a secret millionaire, or a criminal mastermind...” She laughed. “So, when he told me he was a bear shifter and we were mates, I was relieved. I was never the sort of girl who would have let herself fall for a bad boy.”
Philip laughed and went back to laying the table, carefully arranging the silverware beside each plate.
I wonder what Elsbeth thinks we are hiding, his bear said.
Philip tugged his brows together. He hadn’t thought of things that way. “So, Elsbeth will sense there’s a connection between us?” Philip asked his mom, more somber now.
“Of course, the mating bond might not be as strong for her, but your mate will still feel it.” Leanne set the spoon down and came to him. “This will all be confusing for her, son.”
Philip nodded. “I was going to tell her last night, but then she opened up about how much she missed her mom and, well, it just didn’t seem like the right time.”
“Then it wasn’t,” Leanne said, placing a comforting hand on his upper arm. “But you will know when it is.”
“I hope so.” He nodded and sighed. “When you found out, you never thought about running away?”
“Oh no,” Leanne said, her eyes distant. “I knew from the first moment I saw your father, he was the one for me.”
“You did?” Philip asked, hopeful that Elsbeth might have felt that way, too, when they first met.
“Yes. Of course, I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself, let alone your father.” She smiled wistfully. “But I knew deep down in my soul.”
Then he stiffened. He could sense Elsbeth.
“She’s here,” he whispered, suddenly feeling like a teenager about to go on his first date.
Leanne patted his arm. “Relax. Just be yourself.”
“Which self?” he muttered. “The human or the bear?”
His mother laughed. “Both. They’re both you, and they’re both wonderful.”
Philip took a deep breath as he headed for the door. “Thanks, Mom.”
With that, he headed for the door, hoping that tonight might be the night he told her the truth.
And also that his mate didn’t think he was an axe murderer.
Or a criminal mastermind, his bear teased.
But he did hope she believed he was the one for her.
The one and only, his bear added.