Page 53 of The Bear's Mail Order Mate

“Mom does like to keep us fed,” he told his mate as he crossed the room.

“Well,” Cassia teased, reading the humor in his eyes, “I guess you have had a long day of work.” She lifted a corner of the basket’s lid and peered at the contents, releasing a little sigh of delight. “Smells incredible.”

Kris grabbed the wine from the fridge, then slipped the bottles into a small insulated pouch before looping the picnic basket over one arm. He extended his free arm to Cassia. “Shall we?”

Her face glowed as she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow, nestling close to him as they stepped outside. The late-day sun cast golden light across the vineyard, highlighting each row of vines in a gentle glow. Cassia rested her head briefly against his shoulder, an easy, intimate gesture that left Kris’s chest so full of emotion he could hardly breathe.

He guided them up the gentle slope, through rows of leafy vines rustling in a mild breeze. Once they hit the wooded area, they paused to turn and look at the view of the vines and the house below.

“It’s stunning.” Cassia inhaled deeply, and then let the breath out slowly.

“So are you.” Kris pressed a kiss to the top of her head before they turned and continued uphill. They crossed a small clearing before reaching the spring, which trickled down from a rocky ledge, forming a small, babbling stream that ran down through the vineyard’s lower fields.

“This water is why Thornberg wine tastes so unique,” Kris told his mate. “That, and the valley’s microclimate.”

“Is it also what makes the Thornberg boys grow so big and strong?”

“Maybe.” Kris laughed, a rich, deep sound that seemed to warm the air around them. “I remember my grandfather used to bring us up here to drink from the spring water when we were kids.”

“Another Thornberg secret,” Cassia said.

“Why don’t you try the water?” Kris set the picnic basket down on the ground and then walked to the spring. “Come on. The water is delicious.”

Cassia approached the spring, kneeling beside it. She cupped her hands in the crystal-clear water and brought them to her lips, drinking deeply.

“Oh!” She turned to him with wide eyes. “It’s so cold and sweet.”

Kris uncorked one of the wine bottles and poured two glasses, the ruby liquid catching the late afternoon sunlight. He carried them over to where she kneeled by the spring, admiring how the dappled light through the trees played across her face. He could scarcely believe she was real—and that she was his.

How lucky can one man be?he murmured.

Very lucky,his bear said, contentment radiating through their bond.

“This is the wine I blended the night Finn made the ad,” he said softly, offering her a glass.

Cassia rose, taking the glass with a smile that made his heart skip. “The ad that brought me here.”

They stood close, the sound of the bubbling spring a gentle backdrop to the moment. Kris raised his glass. “To the restaurant,” he toasted.

“To the restaurant,” she echoed.

“And to us,” Kris added softly. They held each other’s gaze as they sipped the crisp white wine. Then Cassia set her glass on a flat rock, rose on her tiptoes, and brushed her lips over his in a slow, lingering kiss.

Kris slid an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, returning the kiss with equal fervor. The gentle rush of the stream, the whisper of the leaves above—everything faded except the taste of her, warm and sweet. His entire being hummed with the intensity of the mate bond, the unstoppable need to claim her fully. And he poured every ounce of longing into that kiss.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Kris rested his forehead against hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he murmured.

Cassia’s smile was radiant. “Just that?”

A low rumble of desire vibrated through him. “Not just that,” he admitted, his voice husky. “But I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“What if I don’t want a gentleman right now?” she whispered, her fingers trailing up his chest.

His bear growled with approval, and Kris felt his control slipping. He captured her wandering hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss her palm. “We should probably eat,” he said, though truthfully, his appetite for food was overshadowed by another hunger altogether.

She laughed, a sound that warmed his soul. “We probably should,” she agreed, though she didn’t release his hand. “But first…”

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