Page 14 of The Bear’s Matchmaking Mix-up Mate (Bear Creek Forever:Thornberg Vineyard #6)

“I want you to know the real me, Wren. All of me.”

Finn’s words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning that Wren couldn’t quite grasp.

Her heart stuttered, a painful lurch that left her breathless.

The last man who’d promised to show her the real me had been Vince, standing in their kitchen with his eyes full of false sincerity, promising honesty while hiding text messages from the backup singer.

A wave of old betrayal crashed over her, bitter and sharp. Was she really ready to trust again, to risk everything for someone who might, just might, be different?

“The real you,” she echoed, her voice barely a whisper. Her fingers twitched in his grasp, the instinct to pull away, to protect herself, nearly overwhelmed her.

Vince’s voice ghosted through her memory: I’ve never been this honest with anyone before. You know the real me. Two weeks later, the tabloids had splashed photos of him across their front pages, locked in an embrace with someone else.

But this wasn’t Vince. She clung to that, forcing herself to breathe. Finn was not Vince. He never had been. And she was certain he never would be.

Or was she deluding herself? Was she so desperate to believe in Finn, believe in love, that she was letting her heart lead her head?

Wren forced herself to look at Finn, really look at him.

His eyes held none of the calculated charm she’d grown to recognize in liars.

There was only hope there, and fear, and the same tenderness she’d come to crave.

His hand around hers wasn’t possessive but gentle, his thumb tracing small circles against her skin.

The calluses on his palm spoke of honest work, of gardens tended and vines nurtured.

She took a shaky breath. Finn had never given her reason to doubt him.

He’d respected her boundaries, her privacy, her need for space.

When she’d been at her most vulnerable, singing a song that laid her soul bare, he’d cried.

Not the performative tears she was used to from industry executives, but silent, genuine tears that he’d tried to hide.

Trust him, she told herself. If you can trust anyone, it’s Finn.

“Okay,” she said, surprised by the steadiness in her voice. “Show me.”

The smile that broke across his face was tentative at first, then it widened with unmistakable relief.

“Not in here,” he said, glancing around the makeshift studio. “We should go outside.”

Curiosity sparked through her apprehension. What could he possibly need to show her that required the open air? Her mind cycled through possibilities as she followed him down the stairs and through the kitchen to the back door.

The evening had deepened while they’d been inside, the sky a wash of indigo studded with early stars.

A nearly full moon hung low over the trees, bathing the garden in silver light.

The air was cool against her skin, fragrant with pine and something sweeter—night-blooming jasmine, perhaps, from the overgrown cottage garden.

Finn led her to the center of the small lawn, where moonlight pooled like water. He turned to face her, his features half in shadow, half illuminated. Something electric seemed to charge the air between them, making the fine hairs on Wren’s arms stand on end.

“Do you trust me?” Finn asked, his voice low and earnest.

Trust . Such a simple word for such a complicated thing. She’d trusted before and been broken by it. Had built walls and sworn never to let them down again.

Yet here she was, standing in the moonlight with a man she barely knew. The truth was, she did know him.

Not in the way of days, months, or years.

But she knew his heart. She knew his kindness.

She’d witnessed it in every action—the way he’d guided her through the farmers’ market, his gentle patience with her godmother’s garden, how tenderly he’d listened to her song.

His goodness wasn’t something he performed; it simply was.

“I do,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I trust you, Finn.”

Relief flickered across his features before he gently released her hand and stepped back. “Don’t be afraid, okay? It’s still me. It will always be me.”

Before she could ask what he meant, the air around Finn seemed to shimmer like a summer haze. The hairs on her arms stood up as Finn seemed to go out of focus, then the air crackled and popped as if filled with static electricity.

Then, he was gone.

She let out her breath in a whoosh, emptying her lungs as the world seemed to tilt to the side. Where had he gone? What kind of stunt was he trying to pull?

Wren looked around, searching for a hidden camera or something in the darkness.

But then, where Finn had stood moments before, a massive bear now materialized, its coat shining like burnished copper in the moonlight.

Wren’s legs locked, her body frozen in place as her mind struggled to process what her eyes were seeing.

The bear…Finn…was enormous, its shoulders broader than any bear she’d seen in zoos or nature documentaries.

It stood perfectly still, watching her with eyes that seemed to glow amber in the darkness.

Everything she thought she knew about the world spun off its axis. Yet there was no fear, only awe and a raw, dizzying sense of wonder.

Her logical mind told her this couldn’t be real. This wasn’t possible. And yet...

The bear took a cautious step toward her, then stopped, as if scared of frightening her further. It…he…lowered his massive head slightly, a gesture that seemed almost courteous. And when their eyes met, Wren felt recognition slam through her like a physical force.

Those eyes. Finn’s eyes. The same kindness, the same steady warmth she’d come to rely on. The same soul that had listened to her song with such reverence looked out at her now from this impossible form.

Tears sprang to her eyes, not from fear but from the sheer, staggering beauty of the truth he’d revealed. This was why he’d always seemed so attuned to her, why his presence had felt so solid and sure. This was why his family had exchanged those knowing looks when they’d met her.

“Finn,” she whispered.

She took a step forward and then another, moving forward without conscious thought, drawn to him by a force she couldn’t name.

Wren sank to her knees before him, reaching out trembling hands to touch the thick fur at his neck. It was softer than she’d imagined, warm and alive beneath her fingers. The solid power of him thrummed under her touch, real and undeniable.

A sob of joy broke from her lips, surprising her with its intensity. Tears fell freely now, tracking warm paths down her cheeks.

“Oh, Finn,” she whispered, burying her fingers deeper in his fur. “It’s really you.”

The bear leaned into her touch, a rumbling sound like a purr vibrating deep in his chest. She pressed her face against his fur, letting herself absorb his warmth and be comforted by his presence. Her laughter and tears mingled, relief and hope flooding through her.

She wasn’t afraid. Not at all. This was Finn—her Finn—in every possible way, and she’d never felt so safe in her entire life.

Wren wrapped her arms around the bear’s neck and hugged him close. His fur tickled her nose, carrying the scent of pine and earth and something wild and free. She pressed her lips to his forehead, right between his ears, and felt him rumble with contentment beneath her touch.

“This is incredible,” she whispered against his fur.

The bear pulled back slightly, then lowered his massive head to rub against her thigh. The gesture was so affectionate, so playful, that it startled a laugh from her. He nudged her again, this time with enough force that she nearly toppled over.

“Hey!” She laughed, steadying herself with a hand on his broad shoulder. “Are you trying to knock me down?”

His amber eyes gleamed with mischief, and he nudged her again, gentler this time, as if inviting her to play.

Wren shook her head, unable to stop smiling. “This is... I don’t even have words for this, Finn.”

Just yesterday, she’d been struggling to find her voice, fighting against walls that had seemed insurmountable. And now here she was, sitting with a bear!

But it was more than that. Finn had given her a gift above compare. Because if a man could change into a bear, something she had thought impossible…

Then what else was possible?