Page 19 of The Bear’s Matchmaking Mix-up Mate (Bear Creek Forever:Thornberg Vineyard #6)

Where was she? As Finn drove back toward town, he pushed out his senses. If she were close enough, he’d be able to feel her presence.

And if we can’t? his bear asked.

If we can’t, it just means she’s running an errand. Somewhere. Finn would not follow that thought any further. He would not even begin to contemplate a world without his mate in it.

If she’d left town, he’d follow her. Go wherever and do whatever it took to get her back, to win her heart, to make her see she could trust him.

You know this could all be one overreaction, his bear said. She might not even have seen the post. And even if she did, she might not have jumped to the wrong conclusion. She trusts us.

Maybe, Finn said, his brow creased with concentrated effort as he tried to pinpoint his mate’s whereabouts. But you know how hurt she is from her past relationship. And with that kind of deep hurt, it’s easy to fall back into old ways of thinking.

His bear was right, of course. Finn pressed down on the accelerator, unable to shake the nagging worry that Wren had indeed seen that post and was now halfway to anywhere but Bear Creek.

Then, as he neared the town limits, a familiar sensation washed over him.

It started with a tingle at the base of his skull, followed by a warmth spreading through his chest.

Wren.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, focusing on that sensation. She was in town, and if he had to guess, she was at Mrs. Abernathy’s house. Relief flooded through him so powerfully that he had to take a deep breath to steady himself.

“She’s still here,” he whispered.

Of course, she is still here, his bear said, but felt the same intense relief.

But then the feeling shifted. Wren was on the move.

Finn kept driving, instinctively adjusting his course to follow that invisible thread connecting him to his mate. The sensation grew stronger as he turned onto Mountain View Road, heading away from town. She was driving into the mountains…toward his cabin.

Had she seen his text after all? Was she meeting him for lunch?

His phone pinged, the sound nearly making him swerve. Finn pulled over to the shoulder, hands shaking as he fumbled for his phone. The message appeared on his screen: I’d love to meet you for lunch. Heading over now.

Finn sagged forward, resting his forehead against the steering wheel for a moment as relief coursed through him.

Told you so! his bear crowed triumphantly. She’s fine. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.

Finn shook his head and took a deep breath, collecting himself before putting the truck back in gear. As he drove toward his cabin, the sense of her grew stronger.

What’s she going to think when she gets there and there is no lunch and no you? his bear said as unhelpfully as always.

Finn didn’t reply, just kept driving. Now that he had his senses locked onto her, he would never lose her again.

The pull toward her was magnetic, almost physical in its intensity.

Each mile brought him closer, the connection between them strengthening until her presence filled his awareness like sunlight breaking through clouds.

He arrived at his cabin just as Wren was heading for his backyard.

When she caught sight of his truck, she turned around with an unreadable expression on her face.

Finn’s heart hammered against his ribs as he cut the engine and stepped out, trying to appear casual despite the nervous energy thrumming through his body.

“Hey there,” he said, attempting to sound normal while searching her face for any sign that she’d seen the social media post.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Hey there, yourself. I wondered if I’d been sent the wrong text, or the wrong place to meet.”

Finn exhaled sharply, relief washing through him that she was here, talking to him.

“No, I was...running an errand.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling guilty for his white lie but not wanting her to know he’d hightailed it over to Rowan Cottage, afraid she’d seen the post and jumped to the wrong conclusion.

“Ah,” Wren said, kicking at the dirt with her toe.

“And you,” Finn asked, desperate to gauge her mood, “how was your morning? Did you get any songs written?”

Color flushed her cheeks as she shook her head. “Ah, no. I, err...” She looked at him and rolled her shoulders, then smiled sheepishly. “I saw a post about the mystery headline band...”

Finn reeled, his stomach dropping. “You did...” His words tumbled out in a rush.

“It was Alfie, he’s found a band to play at the fundraiser.

” He tripped over his words, desperate to explain.

“I was afraid you might think I’d sold you out, so I went over to Rowan Cottage, and you were not there, and I.

..panicked. I’m sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion. ”

Wren’s smile widened, but instead of replying, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I love you,” she murmured against his lips.

Finn laughed, a sound of pure relief and joy as he picked her up and swung her around. “If this is what jumping to the wrong conclusion feels like, then I’ll do it all day, every day.”

As he put her down, she flung her arms around him and kissed him again. When they parted, he looked at her, bemused. “I jumped to another wrong conclusion?” he asked warily.

Wren shook her head. “No, I did.”

“You did?” Finn asked, confusion creasing his brow.

She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I saw the post, and I thought you had told Alfie about me, and he had made the post.”

Finn cupped her face in his hand, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “Oh, Wren, I never would have done that.”

Tears misted her eyes. “I know.” She shrugged. “Old habits die hard.”

Finn kissed her softly. “Then let’s start making new habits.” He kissed her again. “That will turn into old habits.” He kissed her again. “That we can stick to. Forever.”

She grabbed him and kissed him deeply, sensually, her body pressing against his. “Is this one of those habits?”

“Oh, yeah!” Finn replied, his voice husky with desire as he lifted her into his arms.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her toward the cabin, their lips never breaking contact.

The warmth of her against him, the sweet scent of her skin, and the soft sounds she made as he kissed her neck were intoxicating.

His bear rumbled with satisfaction, settling into a contented purr that vibrated through his chest.

Inside the cabin, Finn set Wren down gently on her feet but kept her close, unwilling to break contact even for a moment. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden patterns across her face as she smiled up at him, making her look almost angelic.

She is our angel, his bear swooned.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“Don’t be,” he said, turning his face to kiss her palm. “Trust takes time. And we have all the time in the world.”

Her eyes darkened with desire as she began unbuttoning his shirt. “Speaking of time,” she murmured, “I think we should make the most of it.”

Finn groaned as her fingers brushed against his bare chest. “I couldn’t agree more.”

He swept her up again and carried her to the bedroom, his heart fit to burst with love for this woman.

His mate, his songbird, his forever.

As he lay her down on his bed, the morning’s fear and doubt melted away, replaced by the certainty that whatever obstacles came their way, they would face them together.

Because that’s what mates did. That’s what they would always do.