Page 9 of The Bear’s Matchmaking Mix-up Mate (Bear Creek Forever:Thornberg Vineyard #6)

“I think we’ve made a good start,” Finn said as he closed his notebook and slid it back in his pocket. He didn’t want to leave, but he had another appointment in half an hour and he didn’t want to let them down.

His bear sighed. It’s been an amazing morning. Despite the hiccup with Donna.

It has, Finn agreed. And the hiccup with Donna was not all bad.

You mean you liked the way she squeezed your abs? his bear asked in shock.

No, Finn said, horrified at the suggestion he would like any woman other than his mate touching him. But it gave us a chance to let Wren know she is the only one for us.

Oh, she is, his bear swooned as Wren rubbed a sage leaf between her thumb and fingers and then inhaled the scent.

“I think the garden is going to look amazing,” Wren said as she slowly turned in a circle. “I can see it now.”

“Well, once I have drawn up the plans, I’ll make some calculations and then talk to your godmother about costs,” Finn said, then stalled. Was Mrs. Abernathy expecting him to pay for the makeover, too?

“I’d like to pick up the bill,” Wren said quietly, casting a glance toward the house. “It’s the least I can do after she let me stay at Rowan Cottage. She usually rents it out to tourists, and I offered to pay, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

“You’re like family to her,” Finn drew closer to Wren.

And Wren is like family to us, his bear murmured.

“She’s always been so supportive; she’s the one person I can always depend on,” Wren said. “So, I’d like to do this for her as a thank you. Not that I want her to know…”

“I understand,” Finn assured her.

“She won’t accept it as a gift if she knows,” Wren explained. “She’s stubborn like that.”

Finn chuckled. “She is stubborn. It’s one of her best qualities.”

Just as the words left his mouth, the back door swung open and Mrs. Abernathy stepped out onto the patio. Finn’s bear stiffened inside him.

Do you think she heard us? his bear asked with alarm.

But Mrs. Abernathy’s face showed nothing but warmth as she approached them, a pleased smile brightening her features. “The garden looks better already just having you two standing in it,” she said.

“You say the sweetest things,” Wren said with a wide smile.

Who is this Mrs. Abernathy? Finn’s bear asked in mock shock.

I don’t know, but I prefer her to the one who usually looks at us with disapproval, Finn replied.

“Would you like to stay for lunch?” his old history teacher asked.

“I’m afraid I need to get going,” Finn said, glancing at his watch. “I’ve got another appointment in town, but I’ll draw up the plans in the next couple of days and bring them by.”

“I should be heading back to the cottage, too,” Wren added, brushing soil from her hands. “I’ve got some writing to do.”

Mrs. Abernathy nodded. “Thank you both for coming over. It’s been lovely having you.

” She turned to Wren, placing her hands gently on her goddaughter’s shoulders before leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“You’re looking so much happier, dear.” Her eyes flickered briefly toward Finn, a knowing gleam in them.

“In fact, Wren, you are positively glowing.”

A blush crept up Wren’s neck and bloomed across her cheeks.

She is glowing, his bear said with satisfaction. Like sunshine after rain.

“I’m just...enjoying the fresh air,” Wren mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Of course you are,” Mrs. Abernathy replied, not bothering to hide her smile.

They said their goodbyes, and Finn walked with Wren through the garden gate toward their vehicles. The afternoon sun caught in her hair, bringing out those coppery threads that made his fingers itch to touch them.

“Your godmother doesn’t miss much, does she?” Finn said as they reached Wren’s car.

“Nothing gets past her,” Wren agreed, her voice soft. She hesitated, keys in hand, looking up at him with those intense eyes that seemed to see right through him. “Thank you for today. For the farmers’ market, for helping with the garden...”

“And for not actually having a thing with Donna?” Finn added with a tentative smile, testing the waters.

Wren’s laugh was like music to his ears. “Yes, for that, too.”

“I meant what I said earlier,” Finn said, suddenly serious. He took a half-step closer, close enough to catch the scent of sage still lingering on her fingers.

The words hung between them, weighted with meaning he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear. But he couldn’t stop himself from saying them, couldn’t bear the thought of her doubting how he felt, even for a moment.

Wren’s eyes met his, and for a moment, he could not breathe, but then she said, “Yes, we have made a good start on the garden.” She ducked her head and opened her car door. “I’d love to see those plans when you have finished, and I meant what I said about picking up the bill.”

“Of course,” Finn said, deflated. She must have known he was going to say something more. Something that would change their relationship, perhaps take it to another level. This was her way of saying she did not want to hear it.

And he had to accept that. At least for now.

She just needs a little more time, his bear said.

“I’ll see you soon.” She stepped back and climbed into her car.

“I’d like that,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even.

She might have shut you down for now, his bear said. But she left the door open for later.

Finn stood rooted to the spot as she drove away, the taillights growing smaller until they disappeared around the bend.

His heart thudded against his ribs, and his skin felt too tight, as if he might burst from the effort of not chasing after her and telling her the words he was going to say.

That he’d meant it when he said she was the only one for him, ever.

Go after her , his bear urged. Tell her.

But the moment had passed, and Finn was left with only the memory of her smile and the ghost of her touch on his skin.

He sighed, turning back toward his truck and climbing inside. He needed to pull himself back together and get on with the rest of his workday.

However, a sharp rap on his window startled him from his thoughts. Finn jumped, his heart lurching as Mrs. Abernathy’s stern face appeared beside his truck. He quickly rolled down the window, swallowing hard.

“Mrs. Abernathy,” he managed, his voice embarrassingly unsteady. “I thought you’d gone inside.”

She leaned in, her no-nonsense energy filling the cab of his truck. “I was watching you two from the kitchen window. And it looked as if there might be trouble in paradise already.”

“I…” He had no words.

“Hmm, as I thought,” she said, staring into the distance, her expression unreadable. Then her eyes narrowed. “You promised to work on Rowan Cottage’s gardens, too, young man. I expect you to keep your word.”

“Of course,” Finn nodded quickly. “I haven’t forgotten.” He wiped his palms on his jeans, suddenly sixteen again, caught sneaking out of study hall.

“Good.” Her tone shifted, growing cooler, more precise. “Now, I want you to listen and learn, Finn Thornberg.”

Finn felt a prickle of unease at the base of his spine.

“My goddaughter,” Mrs. Abernathy continued, fixing him with a gaze that could have frozen a forest fire, “has been through more than you know. She’s only just beginning to find her footing again, and I won’t have you or anyone else jeopardizing that.”

“Mrs. Abernathy, I would never…”

“I’m not finished.” She held up one finger, and Finn found himself snapping his mouth shut as if he’d been caught passing notes in history class. “I see how you look at her, Finn Thornberg. I see how she looks at you, too.”

Hope flared in his chest despite his nervousness.

“So, I trust that you plan to tell her the truth.” Mrs. Abernathy’s voice hardened. “Because Wren deserves to be happy with a man who adores her as much as I do. Understand?”

Finn nodded, his throat dry. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And if you ever…” her eyes flashed, “…ever hurt her, I will make you regret it. You and that bear of yours.”

His bear whimpered, pressing itself flat against his consciousness. Scarier than any mountain lion we’ve ever faced.

“I understand,” Finn said, meeting her gaze steadily despite the chill racing down his spine. “But you should know, I would never intentionally hurt Wren.”

Mrs. Abernathy studied him for a long moment, then nodded once, apparently satisfied. “See that you don’t. Goodbye, Finn.”

She straightened and walked away, her back ramrod straight, leaving Finn both amused and sobered by her fierce protectiveness.

Well, that went well, his bear said. Finn wasn’t sure if his bear was being sarcastic or not as he sauntered away and lay down with his paws over his head.

Finn started his truck, hands still shaking slightly from Mrs. Abernathy’s warning. As he pulled away from the curb, he groaned and thumped his forehead against the steering wheel at the first stop sign.

“What am I doing wrong?” he muttered.

His bear stirred. Nothing. You’re doing nothing wrong.

But it didn’t feel that way. One moment, he and Wren had been so close, working together on the garden design, finishing each other’s sentences, laughing at the same things. Then, the next, she’d pulled away, closing herself off when he’d tried to tell her how he felt.

Maybe it wasn’t about fixing something broken. Maybe it was about patience.

His fingers drummed against the wheel as he turned onto the main road. The scent of sage still lingered on his skin from the garden, reminding him of Wren’s smile as she’d rubbed the leaves between her fingers.

What he truly needed to do was make her see that they were meant to be together. That the connection between them wasn’t just attraction or friendship, but something deeper, something fated.

Surely if Mrs. Abernathy could see it, then Wren would, too. Eventually.

The weight in his chest lightened at that thought. Mrs. Abernathy had practically given him her blessing, in her own terrifying way. She’d seen what was between them, recognized it for what it was, even if Wren wasn’t ready to admit it yet.

A melody drifted through his mind as he drove, and he found himself humming it under his breath. The tune rose and fell, soft and sweet, with an underlying current of longing that seemed to echo his own feelings.

Then it hit him. It was Wren’s tune—the one she’d been humming on and off all day while they worked in the garden. The one she’d been unconsciously tapping with her foot at breakfast.

Our song, his bear murmured with quiet satisfaction.

“Our song,” Finn repeated, a smile spreading across his face.

Something about that realization made him feel lighter, as if he’d been given a secret gift. The melody had burrowed into his mind, just as she had burrowed into his heart. And if her music lived inside him now, didn’t that mean a part of her did, too?

The significance wasn’t lost on him. Deep down, she must feel their connection. The tune was proof that she carried him with her, just as he carried her. She simply needed time to recognize what it meant. Time to trust in him, to trust in fate, to trust in the bond they shared.

His bear rumbled contentedly. She’ll come around. She just needs time to heal.

Time to heal from whatever had hurt her before. Time to learn to trust again. Time to recognize what he already knew…that they belonged together.