Page 11 of The Bear’s Second Chance Mate (Bear Creek Forever: Thornberg Vineyard #5)

June watched Stanley through her lashes as she sipped her coffee. This morning, as she drove to the cafe, she’d decided to follow Barb’s advice and keep things cool, neutral with Stanley. Friends. That’s what she’d kept telling herself.

After all, this was not a date; it was two professional people sitting down for coffee and talking about how to help children with special needs feel more relaxed in Stanley’s pet store.

But slowly, he’d chipped away at her resolve. Not that anything had changed between them. If they were mates, he still had given her no sign, no clue to his true feelings. But she could sense something there, a connection between them.

It was not her imagination.

It was not wishful thinking.

No, when he was close, it was as if every atom in her body reached out toward him. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and she felt the same strange sensation she’d had last night as she stood on the porch drinking whiskey.

Had he been out there in the darkness? Watching, waiting for the right time to tell her they were mates?

“How’s Herbert doing?” she asked, finally needing to fill the silence that stretched between them. “Has someone claimed him yet?”

Stanley glanced up, his eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to his coffee. “Not yet. It’s like he simply appeared out of thin air in Mrs. Abernathy’s backyard.”

“Oh.” The word escaped her before she could stop it. Had fate sent the white bunny just so they could meet?

Goodness, she was starting to lose her grip on reality.

Stanley set his spoon down with a gentle clink. “You and Oli could give him one, you know. A home.”

The offer hung between them, simple and sincere. And Oli had made it blatantly clear he would love Herbert as a pet. And then there was the feeling that she owed Herbert a home for bringing Stanley into her life.

But then there was the reality of her situation. She was living with her aunt, her funds were dwindling, and there seemed to be no sign of a job coming her way anytime soon.

“I’m not sure how long we’ll be in Bear Creek,” she said, hating the words even as she spoke them. “I’ve retrained as a therapist, but I’m still looking for a new job. One that gives me the flexibility Oli needs. I have no idea where that might take us.”

Stanley let out a long breath as if he’d been punched in the gut. “I didn’t know this wasn’t a permanent move for you.”

“I’m hoping it is,” she replied. “Oli loves it here. And so do I…” She paused. “But beggars can’t be choosers. Until I gain some real-world experience, I have to keep my options open.”

“That makes sense,” he said, stirring his coffee once more, though the sugar had long since dissolved. “You need to do what’s best for you and Oli.”

The warmth in his eyes had faded, just enough to sting. Just enough to make her want to reach across the table and take back her words, to tell him she’d figure something out, that she would stay.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not when everything was so uncertain.

Not when she wasn’t even sure what they shared was more than a fleeting feeling.

Barb’s warning echoed in her head, a persistent whisper she couldn’t silence. If you were his mate, he’d have claimed you by now. The words had burrowed under her skin since that night in the kitchen, impossible to extract.

Maybe Barb was right. Maybe this was just kindness. The same gentle compassion Stanley showed to every lost creature that found its way to his door. Maybe he was only offering what he could, and she was foolish to want more, to read meaning into every look, every smile, every careful word.

She lifted her coffee to her lips, using the mug as a shield. And then, she caught him looking at her.

Not a casual glance, but something deeper.

His eyes darkened, fixed on her face with an intensity that made her skin flush hot.

He wasn’t just seeing her. He was seeing into her, through every defense, every careful wall she’d constructed.

The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with something she couldn’t name but felt in every cell of her body.

June forgot to breathe. Forgot the coffee halfway to her lips. Forgot Barb’s warnings and her own doubts.

That look wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t casual interest or friendly concern. It wasn’t indifference.

It was hunger. Recognition. Something primal and knowing that made her heart slam against her ribs.

But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. Stanley blinked and glanced away, reaching for his napkin with a slightly unsteady hand.

“The farmer’s market is great on Saturday mornings,” he said, his voice deliberately light as he changed the subject. “Not too crowded before nine. They have a section with local honey that Oli might find interesting. The beekeeper brings an observation hive sometimes.”

June set her mug down, struggling to reconcile the moment that had just passed with this sudden shift to safer ground. She nodded, gathering herself.

“That sounds nice,” she managed. “Oli’s been wanting to explore more of the town.”

“The museum is good, too,” Stanley continued. “I’m sure Oli would find it interesting.”

His voice was steady again, the moment, whatever it had been, seemingly forgotten. But June couldn’t forget. Couldn’t unsee that look or un feel the way it had reached inside her and touched something that had been sleeping for far too long.

“I should probably get going,” she said. “I have some errands to run before I collect Oli from school.”

“Oh, sure,” he said awkwardly.

“If you want any more advice, let me know,” she said as she got up and shouldered her purse.

“I will take you up on the offer,” he said.

Not might . But will .

Man, this guy was confusing her.

“Thanks for meeting me today,” he said as they stepped outside the coffee shop. “And for the advice about the store. I really appreciate it.”

“Thanks for asking,” June replied, fishing her keys from her pocket. “Not many people do.”

They stood there, the space between them charged with words unsaid. June waited, heart fluttering against her ribs, for...something. A touch. A sign. Anything to confirm that the connection she felt wasn’t just in her imagination.

But Stanley kept his hands tucked in his pockets, his stance careful, respectful. The distance between them remained unbridged.

“Drive safe,” he said finally.

June nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “I will.”

She turned to open her car door, then hesitated, looking back at him.

The expression on his face stole her breath.

A look so full of yearning, so intense it seemed to reach inside her and take hold of something vital.

His eyes held hers for one long moment, dark and filled with an emotion she couldn’t name but felt echoed in her own chest.

Then it was gone, shuttered behind a gentle smile and a small nod.

“I’ll tell Oli you asked about him,” she said, fumbling with her keys.

Stanley nodded. “Tell him Herbert misses him.”

June smiled, opening her car door. “I will.”

She slid into the driver’s seat, and Stanley stepped closer and rested his hand on the car door. “Would you…” he hesitated, then tried again, “Would you maybe want to get coffee again sometime?”

She looked up at him quickly, hope sparking before she could help it. “Yes.”

His eyes blazed with what looked like triumph for a brief moment. A smile spread across his lips, softening his features, and yet there was something almost predatory in it, a flicker of possessiveness that made her heart stutter.

“Drive safely,” he said, his hand still resting on the edge of her door, fingers inches from hers.

“I will,” she replied, but even she could hear the tremor in her voice.

Because they weren’t really talking about driving.

The air between them crackled with something unsaid, something powerful and magnetic. A pull. A recognition. A promise she didn’t fully understand but couldn’t ignore. It hummed beneath her skin like electricity, undeniable and unspoken.

He finally closed the door, and in that final second, his fingertips brushed hers. Barely a touch, so fleeting she might have imagined it, but it jolted through her like a live wire.

Her hands trembled as she started the engine. She couldn’t look at him again. Not directly. Because if she did, she would fling the car door open and fall into his arms.

So, instead, she settled for watching him in the rearview mirror, heart pounding as she watched him shrink in the distance.

He hadn’t moved.

He stood there alone on the sidewalk, eyes fixed on her taillights.

She didn’t know what that meant.

She just knew it meant something .

The rest of her morning, as she ran her errands, passed in a blur of motion without meaning—picking up Oli’s prescription, returning library books, buying groceries. Every time her thoughts wandered back to that charged moment outside the café, her pulse skipped a beat.

When she arrived home, Barb’s car was parked outside. She hadn’t expected her aunt home so early. June had hoped to have an hour or two alone before she collected Oli from the occupational therapist he saw on Wednesday afternoons, after school.

“I’m home, Aunt Barb,” June called out as she set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter.

“In here,” Barb called from the living room. “Tea is still hot in the pot if you want one.”

“Thanks.” June put the groceries away and then filled a mug with the steaming tea from the pot, inhaling the familiar scent of chamomile that Barb always preferred in the afternoons.

She carried her tea into the living room, where Barb sat in her usual armchair by the window, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose, a newspaper folded to the crossword puzzle in her lap. A pencil tapped against her chin as she contemplated a clue.

“Bridge club was canceled. Tina’s got the flu.” Barb raised an eyebrow. “I hear you had coffee with Stanley Thornberg this morning.”

June sat down on the sofa and took a sip of her tea. “Word travels fast.”

Barb chuckled. “In Bear Creek, it travels faster than reason. Mrs. Peterson saw you two, said you looked very cozy.”

“It was just coffee,” June said quickly. “He wanted advice about making the pet store more comfortable for kids like Oli.”

“Uh-huh.” Barb’s gaze didn’t waver. “And how’d that go?”

June hesitated. “I don’t know what to make of him,” she admitted, even though she knew she might regret it.

“One minute he’s warm and attentive, the next he’s pulling back.

It’s like he wants to say something but stops himself every time.

And then today… There was a moment. Outside the café.

I felt like something passed between us. ”

Barb’s smile faded. She folded her arms, voice turning firm. “June, I told you before. If he were your mate, he would’ve said so by now.”

June looked down at her hands. “Maybe it’s not that simple.”

“With shifters?” Barb shook her head. “It is. That’s the one thing that’s never complicated. They know. They act.”

June’s throat tightened. “So you think I’m imagining it?”

“I think…” Barb trailed off, her expression shifting. Something passed through her eyes, regret, maybe. Memory. “I think you want this. And I don’t blame you. He’s gentle, good with Oli. You’d be lucky to find a man like that.”

“That sounds like a ‘but.’”

“But,” Barb sighed, rising to fill the kettle. “Wanting something doesn’t make it true. And I’d hate to see you get hurt chasing a feeling that isn’t mutual.”

June cupped her hands around the tea, letting the warmth seep into her fingers. “Or maybe he’s just scared.”

Barb huffed a breath through her nose. “He’s a bear shifter, not a field mouse.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, sipping their tea.

Then Barb added, almost begrudgingly, “Still…if there’s something real between you, I suppose time will tell.”

June looked at her aunt, surprised by the shift in tone. “That almost sounded like encouragement.”

Barb snorted. “It’s your life, June.”

June smiled into her mug. Stanley wasn’t the only confusing one in her life. She glanced at her aunt, now absorbed in her crossword again, pencil tapping rhythmically against the newspaper.

Neither of them was candid with their words. In so many ways, they were opposites, Stanley, quiet and watchful; Barb, blunt and brash. And yet, beneath it all, they were more alike than different. Both loved deeply, just not always in ways that were easy to name.

She saw it every time Barb referred to Oli as your boy , as if his place in June’s life was sacred.

And in every moment, Stanley looked her in the eye.

Love? Was that really what she saw there? Yes. She suspected it was.

“You’re smiling,” Barb said, almost accusingly. “Must’ve been excellent coffee at the café this morning.”

“I think it might’ve been the best coffee I’ve ever tasted,” June replied, setting her cup down.

“Hmm,” Barb said, and returned to her crossword.

Maybe it was time they all said exactly what they meant. It certainly would make life easier.

Or would it simply complicate things further?