Nero’s eyes opened to darkness, his internal clock rousing him well before dawn. For a moment, he lay still, listening to the hush of The Lookout. The space beside him was empty.
His bear stirred lazily. She’s working already, he murmured.
Nero smiled in the dark, picturing Sophie bent over her recipe notes in the kitchen below. Of course, she was. Tonight was her night to shine.
He rose quietly, slipping into his robe, the polished wooden floors cool beneath his feet as he made his way downstairs, his shifter senses drawing him to the kitchen.
There she is, his bear murmured. Our mate.
Sophie sat at the kitchen table, her hair tied back in a messy bun, several strands escaping to frame her face.
She was already dressed in comfortable leggings and one of his sweaters, which hung loosely on her smaller frame.
Before her lay neat stacks of recipe cards, arranged in precise order, her fingers flicking between them with focused intent.
Her lips moved silently as she reviewed each card, occasionally making a small notation or rearranging the sequence.
She’s magnificent, his bear said with quiet reverence.
Truly, Nero agreed, watching her work with the same attention he gave to the most intricate pieces in his workshop.
He stepped into the kitchen, careful not to startle her. “Good morning.”
Sophie looked up, her face lighting when she saw him. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Not at all,” Nero replied, crossing to the counter where the antique brass kettle sat waiting. “I simply missed your warmth.”
He filled it with water, measuring precisely before placing it on the stove. From the cupboard, he retrieved the porcelain dripper and filters, lining them up with methodical care. The beans went into the grinder next, the soft whirring filling the early quiet.
Sophie watched, a smile tugging at her lips. “You approach coffee-making like it’s a science experiment.”
“Coffee is chemistry,” he replied seriously, although he could not keep the telltale glint from his eyes. “Precision yields consistent results.”
“Says the man who routinely forgets to eat breakfast,” she teased gently.
He inclined his head, conceding the point.
She knows us too well already, his bear rumbled.
When the kettle began to sing, Nero removed it from the heat, letting the water cool to the perfect temperature before beginning the careful pour-over process. The rich aroma of coffee soon filled the kitchen, mingling with the faint scent of the cinnamon rolls Sophie had prepared the night before.
He set two cups on the table and sat across from her. Her hands still hovered over the cards, tension tightening her shoulders.
“You’ve prepared beautifully,” he murmured, reaching across to cover her hand. “Tonight will be splendid.”
She exhaled slowly, the strain slipping from her posture. “I keep thinking I’ve forgotten something crucial.”
“Your attention to detail rivals my own,” Nero said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Which means you’ve undoubtedly thought of everything.”
In the short time they’d known each other, he’d witnessed Sophie transform from the wary, guarded woman he’d met at the wedding expo to the confident creator now seated before him. There was pride in his chest, deep and fierce.
Our mate is extraordinary, his bear hummed.
Sophie looked up at him. “Cassia sent me a text last night. They’re completely booked. Every seat.”
“I’m not surprised,” Nero said. “The moment she announced your guest menu night, the phone never stopped ringing. My brothers have been telling everyone.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “They have?”
“The Thornbergs are loyal,” he said. “And not shy about bragging.”
A hollow ache in his stomach reminded him he needed to eat if he was going to help Sophie get through this special day. He’d skipped more than one meal over the last couple of days after spending long hours in his workshop.
Sophie caught his glance toward the oven where the cinnamon rolls waited. “You need to eat something,” she said firmly, rising from her chair as if reading his mind.
“They do smell good,” Nero said. But then, so did everything Sophie made.
“You can’t support me through tonight’s dinner if you’re running on empty,” she said, sliding a roll onto a plate and placing it before him.
“What time do we need to be at the vineyard?” he asked, taking a bite of the perfectly spiced roll.
“Mid-morning,” Sophie said, reclaiming her seat and pulling her coffee closer. “The team will be there, but I want to walk through everything myself.”
He watched her take a sip, her lashes fluttering shut for a second as she savored the flavor. “And how do you feel?”
“Excited. Nervous. Grateful.” Her gaze met his. “In love.”
“I love you, too,” he murmured and rose to lean across the table and kiss her lips.
“I should go take a shower before we get distracted,” she said, her hand caressing his cheek.
“I could join you,” he murmured.
“You could,” she agreed. “But you are going to eat your roll and drink your coffee.”
She leaned away from him and picked up her coffee cup. “You are one dish that will keep hot.”
“You have no idea.” He chuckled as he watched her leave the kitchen. It took all his willpower not to go and join her, but he did not want to do anything that might jeopardize today.
***
An hour later, Nero parked the convertible next to Kris’s truck at the vineyard. “Ready?” he asked as he half-turned to look at her.
Sophie nodded, closing her notebook with deliberate care. “Yes. Although I’ll be happier once we’ve gone over everything.”
“Cassia will have attended to every detail,” Nero assured her, as he got out of the car. “Organization is her particular talent.”
Nero came around to open Sophie’s door, offering his hand. She accepted it, her grip steady despite the flicker of nerves in her eyes.
“Shall we?” he asked.
She squared her shoulders and nodded, clutching her notebook like a shield.
Together, they walked toward the barn, Nero adjusting his pace to match hers. When they reached the entrance, he pulled open the heavy wooden door, letting Sophie step through first.
Inside, the transformation was nearly complete.
Long tables draped in crisp ivory linens formed two parallel lines down the center of the space, each set with gleaming silverware and crystal glasses that caught the morning light streaming through the vast windows.
Overhead, wrought iron lanterns had been suspended from the exposed wooden beams, unlit now but promising a warm glow for the evening.
Through the windows, rows of ripening vines created a living backdrop for the scene.
Sophie stopped just inside the doorway, drawing in a slow breath. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Nero’s hand found the small of her back, a gesture that had become second nature. “Cassia has a remarkable eye.”
As if summoned by her name, Cassia appeared from the kitchen’s direction, dressed in her usual linen dress and apron, clipboard tucked under one arm.
“Good morning!” she called as she came to join them. “Everything’s running to plan.”
“It’s exactly what I imagined,” Sophie said, her voice full of quiet awe. “Thank you.”
“Wait until you see it lit up with candles and the sunset behind the vines,” Cassia replied with a satisfied smile. “But first, I believe Marco is eager to see you in the kitchen. He’s been reviewing your recipes and checking the ingredients since dawn.”
She led them through the dining area, pausing occasionally to offer quiet guidance to servers arranging flowers or polishing glasses.
As they neared the kitchen, the swinging doors opened and released a wave of savory aroma and purposeful sound—chopping, clattering, the low hum of busy voices. The sounds of a busy kitchen.
“These recipes are brilliant in their simplicity,” a voice called out. Marco stood behind the prep table, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a linen towel tossed over one shoulder. “We did a test run yesterday. The way you have combined simple ingredients is sublime.”
“You got the wild mushrooms,” she noted with obvious pleasure, examining a basket of fungi in varied shapes and earthy hues.
“Foraged just yesterday,” Marco confirmed. “And the pomace bread is already proofing, following your instructions to the letter.”
She’s in her element , his bear observed with satisfaction.
And I am in mine, Nero said as he watched her work.
“So we’re ready for this evening?” Sophie asked, surveying the kitchen with a critical eye.
“Yeah,” Marco assured her. “We’ve allocated stations according to your workflow notes, and everyone’s been briefed on the menu progression.”
Nero felt his chest tighten with relief at Marco’s competent response. The dinner would be a collaborative effort, not Sophie working alone in an unfamiliar kitchen. Cassia had ensured she would have the support needed to showcase her talents.
“You’ve done an incredible job,” Sophie said, touching her arm. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Cassia flushed with pleasure. “You made it easy, with your beautiful recipes. I just helped bring them to life.”
The kitchen doors swung open again, and Leanne appeared, carrying a crate of linens and herb bundles. Hugo followed close behind with an armful of wine bottles.
“We brought the final touches,” Leanne said cheerfully. “And came to lend a hand, of course.”
“We couldn’t stay away,” Hugo added, casting a warm glance around the space. “It looks like a proper celebration in here.”
Sophie stepped forward to greet them both with a smile that reached her eyes. “Thank you so much. It means a lot to have you here.”
“We’re all proud of you,” Leanne said gently, setting down her crate. “You’re part of this family now.”
Just then, the side door creaked open once more, and Kris strolled in carrying the last case of wines, a folded list of pairings tucked under one arm. “Perfect timing,” he called. “Everything’s ready to go. I’ve labeled the bottles for each course.”
He set the case beside the others and gave Sophie an approving nod. “Your menu sings on its own, but these wines will make it a duet.”
Sophie exchanged a glance with Nero, the happiness in her expression mirrored in his. It wasn’t just a dinner anymore. It was a family effort. The Thornbergs pulling together, rooting for each other as they always did.
Cassia consulted her clipboard one last time and exhaled, visibly more relaxed. “We’re in good shape. The team knows their cues. Marco’s in command, and the place looks stunning.”
Nero checked his watch. “We should go and get ready. Cassia and Marco have everything under control.” He turned to Sophie with a small smile. “And I have something to show you.”
Sophie arched a brow. “No more surprises, I hope?
“I’m not sure I can top ‘by the way, I’m a bear shifter,’” Nero replied.
Sophie covered her mouth as she laughed. “No, I don’t think you can.”
Nero chuckled. “No transformations today, I promise.”
Leanne squeezed Sophie’s shoulder. “Go, we have everything under control here. Take a couple of hours to go get yourself ready.”
Sophie nodded as she glanced around the room one last time. “We’ll be back soon.”
“See you all later,” Nero said with a wave, gently guiding Sophie toward the exit.
“Are you going to give me a clue?” Sophie asked as they walked hand in hand back to the car.
“No,” Nero said, smiling softly. “But I think you’re going to like it.”
A flicker of doubt crept in. What if it didn’t mean as much to her as it did to him?
She will love it, his bear murmured. How could she not, when she sees it’s From Our Heart to Yours?
Yes. He was finally going to show her the piece he’d been working on since the moment they met.
He couldn’t wait.
Today is going to be an extraordinary day, his bear said.