Page 8 of The Bear’s Second Chance Mate (Bear Creek Forever: Thornberg Vineyard #5)

The scent of June’s perfume lingered in the air long after she and Oli had gone. Stanley stood in the quiet of the store, his fingers still tingling from where they’d brushed against hers when he’d handed her the second cookie.

Stanley moved through the now-empty aisles, straightening items that didn’t need straightening.

He paused at the chinchilla enclosure where Oli had spent so much time, smiling at the memory of the boy’s quiet concentration.

The little beanbag in the reading corner still held the slight impression of where Oli had sat, Herbert cradled gently in his lap.

They fit perfectly here, he murmured, letting his hand rest on the back of the chair where June had been sitting just hours ago. They fit so perfectly into our lives.

His bear stirred contentedly. Because they belong with us.

Stanley closed his eyes, replaying every moment of their visit. June’s smile when she’d seen the quiet corner he’d prepared. The way her shoulders had gradually relaxed as she watched Oli interacting with the animals. The soft curve of her lips as she’d bitten into his homemade cookie.

As for Oli, the transformation in that boy had been something to witness. From hesitant and guarded to engaged and curious. Stanley had seen the change happen gradually, like watching a flower on the vine unfold in time-lapse.

They’ll come back, his bear reassured him. You saw how happy our cub was.

I know, Stanley said, moving toward Herbert’s enclosure. The rabbit was curled in the corner, ears twitching occasionally. And I have that coffee to look forward to.

His bear chuckled. I thought you weren’t going to ask. You were standing there, gripping the doorframe as if it might collapse without your support.

The words just wouldn’t come out right, Stanley admitted with a snort. I wanted to ask her on a proper date, not for...professional advice.

For a moment, he’d almost blurted it all out about the mating bond, about being a shifter, about how from the moment he’d seen her in that garden, his entire world had realigned around her.

But the words had caught in his throat, and instead, he’d mumbled something about wanting her input on making the shop more welcoming.

You need to tell her the truth, his bear said, suddenly serious. About all of it. About us. About being mates. Because the waiting is unbearable.

Stanley didn’t reply right away. He just stood there, listening to the low hum of the aquariums, the soft rustle of bedding, and the gentle tick of the old wall clock. Then he said quietly, It’s too soon. She’s got a lot going on. And I’m…me. What if that is not enough?

That question struck a chord he didn’t want to examine too closely. He’d never been confident and outgoing like Finn. Never been smooth like Nero or charming like Alfie. He was quiet. Steady. Not the sort of man stories were written about.

Do you think you know better than fate? his bear challenged gently.

A reluctant smile pulled at Stanley’s lips. I guess not.

We have always been good enough, his bear said firmly. We will always be good enough. For them.

Stanley nodded, letting those words sink in. His bear was right. Whatever doubts clouded his mind, the mating bond existed for a reason. He hadn’t been chosen randomly. He was meant to be with June and Oli.

Stanley gathered his keys. He made one final round of the store, checking enclosures and water bottles. He paused at Herbert’s pen and reached in to stroke the rabbit’s soft head.

“Goodnight, Herbert,” he murmured. “You did good today, buddy.”

Herbert’s nose twitched, his eyes half-closed with contentment.

Stanley switched off the lights, casting one last glance around the darkened store before locking up. He stepped outside, and the cool evening air hit his face as the sun dipped down behind the distant mountain peaks.

His truck waited in the small lot behind the store. As he climbed in and started the engine, his thoughts weren’t on the drive home, but on the Thornberg Ranch. He needed to tell his parents about meeting his mate.

Unless Finn already had.

He could picture Finn’s face now. His brother trying to act innocent when he definitely wasn’t. Finn had never been the best at keeping secrets when they were growing up. And this one was a big secret he’d probably blurted out already.

Stanley smiled to himself. Even if Finn had spilled the secret to the entire world, Stanley would not have found it in himself to be annoyed.

After all, it was Finn’s matchmaking mix-up that had led Stanley to June and Oli. How could he possibly be annoyed about that?

I hope he hasn’t told the entire world, his bear added. Or even the whole town.

Me neither, I don’t want June finding out we are mates from anyone else, Stanley said.

Stanley’s stomach tightened at the thought.

No. June had to hear it from him. All of it. The truth about who he was. What he was. And what she meant to him.

He just needed to find the right time and the right words.

The twenty-minute drive to the Thornberg Vineyard took Stanley past familiar landmarks.

The old mill with its weathered wooden sign, the bend in the road where a tributary bubbled alongside on its way down the mountain to join Bear Creek, until finally, the headlights of Stanley’s truck swept across the weathered sign reading “Thornberg Vineyard” as he turned onto the familiar gravel drive.

Before him, row upon row of well-tended vines stretched upward. Even though he hadn’t lived here for a decade or more, the sight of the vines and the hacienda-style house always felt like he was coming home.

We have so many memories of this place, his bear said with more than a hint of nostalgia.

And I hope we get to make many more memories here with June and Oli, Stanley said with a deep sigh of longing.

Stanley parked beside his father’s truck and killed the engine. For a moment, he sat still, gathering his thoughts. How exactly did you tell your parents you’d found your mate? That the woman you were destined for had a son? That neither of them knew the truth yet?

The front door opened before he reached it, spilling golden light across the porch. His mother stood in the doorway, her face lighting up at the sight of him.

“Stanley!” Leanne’s arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace that smelled of cinnamon and home. “Your dad said it was your truck approaching. Is everything all right? We weren’t expecting you.”

He hugged her back, feeling some of the day’s tension melt away. “Hey, Mom. Everything is fine.”

“Come in, come in. Your father’s just opened a bottle of that red you like.” She let him go and went back into the kitchen with Stanley following close behind.

The kitchen was just the same as it had been when he and his brothers were growing up.

The large, well-worn wooden table dominated the center; copper pots hung from the ceiling rack; family photos crowded the walls.

A pot of something savory simmered on the stove, filling the air with the rich scent of herbs and tomatoes.

His father looked up from where he was pouring wine, his weathered face breaking into a smile. Hugo stepped forward, clasping Stanley’s shoulder with a firm hand. “Good to see you, son.”

Stanley nodded, his throat suddenly tight. “You, too, Dad.”

“Sit, sit,” Leanne urged, already setting a third place at the table. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Stanley sank into his usual chair, accepting the glass of wine his father slid toward him. “Thanks.”

“How’s the store?” Hugo asked, sitting at the head of the table.

“Good,” Stanley replied, taking a sip of wine. “Busy day.”

Leanne bustled between the stove and table, ladling what turned out to be her famous vegetable stew into bowls. “I heard Mrs. Abernathy found a stray rabbit in her garden.”

Stanley smiled. Of course, she knew. News traveled fast in Bear Creek. “Yeah, I picked it up. Finn sent me to the wrong address at first.”

Hugo chuckled. “That boy would lose his own shadow if it weren’t attached.”

“Is the rabbit doing okay at the shop?” Leanne asked as she placed the steaming bowls on the table and sat down.

“Herbert’s settling in fine,” Stanley said, breaking off a piece of bread. “No one’s claimed him yet.”

“Herbert?” His mother’s eyes twinkled. “You named the stray already?”

Stanley shrugged. “Not me.”

“Oh, he already had a name?” Leanne asked.

“No, Oli named him,” Stanley said, not meeting his mom’s eyes.

“Oli?” Leanne asked, turning her laser focus on her son.

“Yeah,” Stanley began, knowing he could keep nothing from his mom. “He’s June’s son.”

Quit stalling, his bear said.

“And June is…” Hugo asked, although when Stanley met his father’s eyes it was obvious he’d already guessed exactly who June was.

But he’s going to wait for you to say the words, Stanley’s bear said.

He is, Stanley agreed.

So just say them, his bear said in frustration.

“My mate,” Stanley blurted out.

For a moment, silence fell over the kitchen. Then, Leanne’s face lit up with pure joy as she clasped her hands together. “Your mate. Stanley! Oh, my goodness!”

Hugo broke into a wide grin. He stood up so quickly his chair nearly toppled backward, and he clapped Stanley on the shoulder with enough force to make him wince.

“My boy!” Hugo boomed. “I knew it would happen when you least expected it.”

“This calls for something special,” Leanne declared, already moving toward the cabinet where they kept their best wines. “Not that this isn’t lovely, Hugo, but…”

“You’re right,” Hugo agreed, taking the half-empty bottle from the table. “We need the really good stuff.”

Stanley watched his parents move in perfect synchrony, the way they always did. His mother reached for glasses while his father disappeared into the cellar, returning moments later with a dusty bottle of their vineyard’s reserve cabernet, the one they saved for truly momentous occasions.

“We’ve been saving this for exactly this moment,” Hugo said, carefully wiping the bottle with a cloth. “2010. The year you took over the pet store. Seemed fitting.”

Stanley’s throat tightened as his father worked the cork free with practiced hands. The soft pop echoed in the kitchen, followed by the gentle glug of wine flowing into glasses.

Hugo raised his glass high. “To Stanley and his mate, June. And to young Oli. May he find in you the father he deserves.”

“To mates and happiness,” Leanne added, her eyes shining. “And to family. The one we’ve built, and the one you’ll build.”

The three glasses clinked together, and Stanley took a sip, the rich flavor warming him from the inside. He watched as his parents exchanged a look—just a glance, really—but it held decades of shared memories, inside jokes, hardships overcome, and a love that had only deepened with time.

That’s what I want, Stanley told his bear. That kind of deep love and connection. To be part of a couple who still look at each other like that after six sons and countless years.

It’ll happen for us, his bear said with absolute certainty. Well, perhaps not the six sons!

Stanley nearly choked on his wine, and Hugo thumped him on the back.

“So tell us about her,” Leanne said, settling back into her chair. “Tell us everything.”

Stanley took another sip of wine, gathering his thoughts.

“Her name is June. June Draper. She’s...

she’s beautiful, Mom. Not just in how she looks, but in how she is with Oli.

He’s nine, and he sees the world differently.

He’s got sensory processing issues, and she’s just..

.she’s so patient with him. So understanding. ”

“And the boy?” Hugo asked gently.

“Oli’s amazing,” Stanley said, surprised by the rush of protectiveness he felt. “Smart. Observant. He loves animals. You should have seen him with Herbert. It was like they understood each other.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Leanne said with a fond smile.

Stanley ducked his head, feeling warmth creep up his neck. “Yeah, well... It felt right, being with them. Like they belonged in my life.” He traced the rim of his glass. “But also impossible.”

“Impossible?” Hugo’s brows furrowed.

“She doesn’t know what I am,” Stanley confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s been hurt. I can see it in how careful she is, how she watches Oli like she’s waiting for something to go wrong. And Oli...he needs someone who won’t disappear on him.”

His bear growled in protest deep inside. We would never leave them. Never.

“What if I’m not enough?” Stanley continued, the words catching in his throat. “What if I tell her everything and she just...runs?”

Hugo set his glass down, his expression serious. “Being a mate isn’t about perfection, son. It’s about showing up. Every day. Especially when it’s hard.”

“Your father’s right,” Leanne said, reaching across to squeeze Stanley’s hand. “The bond brought you together for a reason. But that’s just the beginning. The rest is choice. Choosing each other, again and again.”

Stanley nodded, feeling the knot in his chest loosen slightly. The doubt was still there, but it felt less crushing now.

Leanne sipped her wine. “Tell me, where are they staying? I’d love to meet them.”

“They’re staying with June’s aunt,” Stanley said, breaking off a piece of bread. “June mentioned they moved here for a fresh start.”

“Her aunt?” Hugo asked.

“Yeah, Barb Waverly.”

Hugo’s spoon paused halfway to his mouth. “Barb Waverly?”

At Stanley’s nod, Hugo chuckled softly, his eyes distant with memory. “Well, I’ll be. She used to be a friend of mine. We were close for a while. Then one day, she stopped coming by.”

Leanne tilted her head, an amused smile playing on her lips. “You were always clueless when someone had a crush on you, Hugo.”

“A crush?” Hugo looked genuinely surprised. “Barb?”

Leanne just shook her head, exchanging a knowing look with Stanley.

Stanley gave a tired smile, not thinking much of it, yet. But his bear shifted uneasily inside him. There’s a story there. One that might matter to us.

But for now, he wanted to enjoy this perfect moment. And the wine. And believe that things would work out. That one day he and June would be as in sync and as in love as his parents.

But then, he was already in love. He only hoped that June would one day reciprocate it.

She will, his bear assured him. She will.