Page 20 of The Bear’s Matchmaking Mix-up Mate (Bear Creek Forever:Thornberg Vineyard #6)

Wren’s fingers hovered over the final chord, letting the last note of her new song drift into silence. The melody still hummed in her veins, electric and alive, as she set her guitar aside. Her third song this week! Whatever creative dam had broken inside her showed no signs of rebuilding itself.

She padded barefoot across the worn floorboards of Rowan Cottage, following the scent of coffee to the kitchen.

There he was—her mate, her love, her muse—hunched over papers spread across the kitchen table.

Finn’s brow furrowed in concentration as he scribbled notes on a diagram of the community garden fundraiser layout.

Her heart did that familiar flip it always did when she looked at him. Finn Thornberg. Bear shifter, landscape designer, and the man who had turned her world upside down in the best possible way.

Wren moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. The scruff of his stubble tickled her lips.

“What did I do to deserve that?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that she felt as much as heard.

“You’re my new muse,” she whispered against his ear. “Three songs in a week. That’s more than I wrote in six months before I met you.”

Finn tilted his head back to look at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. She leaned down and captured his lips with hers, savoring the coffee-warmth of his mouth.

“My brothers have always found me amusing,” he said when they parted, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Wren laughed, moving around to lean against the table beside him. “Not as amusing as Alfie’s plant pun T-shirts. I still can’t believe he wore ‘Don’t Be So Chloro-phyll of Yourself’ to your mom’s birthday dinner.”

“You should see his Christmas collection. Mom threatens to disown him every year.” Finn’s smile softened. “They really love you, you know. All of them.”

“I love them, too.” A surge of happiness threaded through her veins. The Thornbergs had welcomed her without question, folding her into their family as if she’d always belonged there. After years of feeling adrift, she’d found an anchor, a home, a family who accepted her, famous singer or not.

Finn glanced at his watch and sighed. “I should get going. I promised Alfie I’d help put up the flyers for the fundraiser today.”

“I’ll come with you,” Wren said, the words out before she could second-guess them.

Finn’s head snapped up, surprise clear in his eyes. “Are you sure? There’ll be other people there.”

She drew in a deep breath. The old Wren would have hesitated, hidden away, kept her relationship a secret to avoid complications. But that Wren had been running scared for too long.

“I’m done hiding,” she said, leaning down to kiss him again. His lips were warm and eager against hers, sending little sparks of heat down her spine. When they parted, she looked straight into his eyes. “I don’t care if the whole world knows about us.”

Finn’s body went rigid beneath her hands. He pulled back slightly, something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

Wren stepped away, her stomach clenching. Had she misread everything? Her mind raced, searching for what she’d said wrong. Perhaps she was ready, but Finn wasn’t. After all, dating her would inevitably thrust him into a spotlight he’d never asked for.

“Or we can keep it a secret,” she offered weakly, hating how small her voice sounded. “If that’s what you want.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “No,” he said quickly, reaching for her hands. “No, I would love the world to know. My bear has been wanting to roar from the highest peaks and tell the world you are ours since the first day we met.”

Relief washed through her, loosening the knot in her chest. She patted his shoulder, grateful for the moment to collect herself. “Well, I don’t think that’s a good idea, even though I appreciate the sentiment.”

Finn laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Don’t worry, that side of me will always remain a secret from the press.”

“But the rest of you?” she asked, her voice softer now.

Finn stood in one fluid motion and swept her off her feet, his arms strong and secure around her. His mouth found hers in a kiss that made her toes curl.

“The rest of me,” he murmured against her lips, “wants the world to know that you are mine. Always and forever.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver through her. Not the controlling kind she’d known before, but something deeper, more primal, the recognition of a bond that transcended ordinary relationships.

“I am,” she whispered.

Wren reluctantly pulled away, needing space to breathe before she abandoned all plans for the day and dragged him back to bed. “Okay, give me ten minutes to get ready, and then we’ll go.”

Finn held her a moment longer, his arms tightening briefly before he released her.

The grin that spread across his face was brighter than the sunlight streaming through the windows.

She could see how long he’d been waiting for this moment, his need to claim her in public, at least figuratively speaking.

The physical claiming would always remain behind closed doors, their sacred secret.

Wren hurried to the bedroom, filled with a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

The shower’s hot spray helped clear her head as she shampooed quickly, rehearsing what she might say to anyone who recognized her.

For the first time in months, the thought of being recognized didn’t fill her with dread.

She toweled off and pulled on her favorite worn jeans, a pair of boots, and a loose chambray shirt that brought out the green in her eyes. The beanie she usually wore to hide her identity caught her eye as it lay on the bed. After a moment’s hesitation, she left it there.

No more hiding.

She shook out her hair, letting the dark waves fall freely around her shoulders, and headed back downstairs. Finn looked up from gathering his papers, and his eyes darkened as they traveled slowly from her face to her feet and back again. The heat in his gaze made her skin tingle.

It would be so easy to take his hand and lead him back upstairs, to lose themselves in each other for the rest of the day. But she’d made up her mind. Today was about stepping out of the shadows and back into the light. On her terms, with her mate by her side.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Finn nodded, taking her hand. His palm was warm against hers, his grip firm and yet gentle. They walked outside into the bright mountain sunshine, fingers intertwined.

Finn walked her around to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door for her. A shock of recognition threaded up her arm as he hooked his hand under her elbow and helped her into the passenger seat.

That feeling of connection would never grow old.

A moment later, Finn was in the driver’s seat, inserting the key into the ignition. The engine rumbled to life, and they drove toward town, the windows down, the spring air whipping through her hair.

As they approached the community garden, Wren spotted several figures already gathered there.

Alfie was holding a pile of leaflets, talking to his mate Marion, who wore a pretty floral dress.

While Stanley was holding hands with his mate, June, as they watched her son Oli and June’s son Charlie dart between the raised beds, a blur of energy.

Finn parked the truck, and Wren’s hand froze on her seatbelt. This was it, her first deliberate step into the public eye since arriving in Bear Creek. Her choice to be seen, to be known, not just as Wren Hayes the singer, but as Wren, Finn Thornberg’s mate.

Wren closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, steadying herself. Her fingers trembled slightly against the door handle. This was different from performing on stage. There, she had an identity to slip into, a role to play. Here she was just...herself.

“Ready?” Finn asked, his voice soft with understanding.

She opened her eyes to find him watching her, those warm brown eyes filled with patience. The sight of him calmed the fluttering in her stomach.

“Yes.” With a determined nod, she pushed open the door and stepped out into the sunshine.

The moment her boots hit the gravel, Alfie spotted them. “They’re here!” he called out, waving enthusiastically. “The master planner and his mysterious lady friend have arrived!”

Finn’s hand found the small of her back, a reassuring touch as they approached the group. June and Marion broke away from the group, heading straight for Wren with open arms and warm smiles that instantly eased the tension in her shoulders.

“Welcome to the madness,” June said, pulling Wren into a hug.

“She’s talking about Alfie,” Marion said, glancing at her mate.

They knew who she was after Finn introduced her to them properly at a recent family dinner. But they’d kept her secret without question.

“I can’t wait to help,” Wren replied as they made their way toward the rest of the group.

“Morning, everyone,” Finn said, his voice casual but his posture protective beside her.

A car pulled up behind them, and Wren turned to see Leanne and Hugo stepping out. Finn’s mother hurried over, bypassing her son entirely to wrap Wren in a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you like this,” Leanne said, pulling back to beam at her.

Wren glanced down at herself, confused. “Like what?” She was wearing her usual clothes, certainly nothing special.

“Happy,” Leanne clarified, with a wide smile. “You’re absolutely glowing.”

The simple observation caught Wren off guard. A lump formed in her throat as emotions welled up, threatening to spill over.

Leanne’s expression turned contrite. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No,” Wren managed, shaking her head. “You’re right. I hadn’t been happy for a long time before I came to Bear Creek and met Finn.” The admission felt both vulnerable and freeing, like setting down a heavy burden she’d carried for too long.

Leanne pulled her into another hug, this one gentler than the first. “I’m so happy you’re part of the family,” she whispered. Then she turned to look at her son, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Because he wasn’t happy, either. And now the joy shines from you both.”

Wren laughed softly, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t believe he is mine.”

“All right, enough of the sappy stuff!” Alfie called out, clapping his hands together. His T-shirt, bright green with “I BELEAF IN YOU” emblazoned across the chest, made Wren snort with laughter. “We’ve got leaflets to distribute, people! The fundraiser isn’t going to promote itself.”

Alfie divided them into pairs, assigning each team a section of town. Wren found herself partnered with Finn, naturally, tasked with covering Main Street and the shops around the town square.

“Ready for this?” Finn asked as they walked toward town, a stack of colorful flyers in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied, taking half the stack from him.

Main Street was bustling with Saturday morning shoppers. They started at the far end, working their way from shop to shop, leaving flyers and chatting with store owners. Most people greeted Finn warmly, curiously eyeing Wren with polite smiles.

Outside the hardware store, an older woman did a double-take as Wren handed her a flyer. Her eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh my stars,” she gasped. “You’re Wren Hayes!”

The words hung in the air for a moment. Wren felt the familiar tightening in her chest that usually preceded panic, but this time it didn’t come. Instead, she felt strangely calm.

“Yes, I am,” she said with a smile.

“My granddaughter loves your music! Would you mind...?” The woman fumbled in her purse for her phone.

“Of course not.” Wren posed for a selfie with the woman, who thanked her profusely.

Word spread quickly after that. By the time they reached the town square, a small crowd had gathered. Finn stayed close, his presence solid and reassuring as Wren signed autographs on everything from flyers to coffee cups to the back of a receipt.

“Are you living in Bear Creek now?” someone asked.

Wren glanced at Finn, who was watching her with such pride it made her heart swell. “Yes,” she said, surprising herself with how right it felt to say it aloud. “Yes, I am.”

A teenage girl pushed forward, clutching a worn copy of Wren’s first album. “Your music got me through my parents’ divorce,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Will you be making more music soon?”

“Actually,” Wren said, signing the album cover, “I just finished writing three new songs this week.”

The girl’s face lit up. “Really? That’s awesome!”

More questions followed, but they were different from the invasive probing she’d come to expect from the press. These people weren’t interested in scandal or gossip, they were genuine fans who loved her music and found meaning in her songs.

As the crowd finally dispersed and they continued their leaflet distribution, Wren felt lighter than she had in years. She’d faced her fear head-on and discovered it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as she’d imagined.

Finn’s hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

Wren laced her fingers through his, squeezing gently. “More than okay.”

Her hiding days were over. Tomorrow, social media would buzz with sightings of Wren Hayes in a small mountain town. Reporters might come. Questions would certainly follow.

But as she held Finn’s hand, feeling the solid strength of him beside her, Wren knew with bone-deep certainty that she didn’t want to go back. Ever.