Page 10 of The Bear's Mail Order Mate

Kris couldn’t help the grin tugging at his mouth. “Exactly. That’s what I love about it. It’s warm but not heavy. Easy to pair.”

She took a sip, and a faint smile curved her lips. When she opened her eyes, they glimmered with a spark of genuine appreciation. “That’s lovely. Smooth, well-rounded. You can taste the care that’s gone into it.”

Kris felt a rush of pride. “Thank you. We do our best.” Their gazes met, and an invisible current of awareness flowed between them. An awareness that said,This could be something.

She definitely senses we share a connection,his bear murmured, excitement in its tone.

Kris cleared his throat, setting the glass down. “Cassia, about that ad…it wasn’t supposed to be posted.” He swallowed when her posture stiffened. “My brother—Finn—was playing a prank. He never meant for it to go online. Ever.”

Her expression faltered, a mix of shock and disappointment crossing her features. “I…see.”

“But,” he pressed on, leaning forward, “the idea behind it isn’t completely off-base. We’ve been talking about opening a small restaurant to showcase our wines—like a tasting menu concept. We want it to be special, something that draws visitors from all over. And for that, we do need a sommelier or someone with a refined palate.” He ran a hand over the table’s smooth wood, a nervous habit. “We just haven’t gotten all the logistics sorted out.”

Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, though her gaze was still guarded. “So, it wasn’t purely a joke? There’s actually a plan to open a restaurant even if it’s just theoretical?”

He nodded. “Absolutely. It’s just…not as far along as the ad suggested. But if you’re serious about wanting to help us, I…I’d love to have you.”

We can’t let her leave,his bear insisted.Make her see the future. Her future, here with us.

Kris inhaled and forced a small chuckle, hoping it didn’t sound too shaky. “Guess you could say the timing’s perfect in a twisted way. Your arrival might be the push we need to finally move from talk to action.” He paused, lips curving into a grin that felt more genuine by the second. “So, how about it? If you’re willing to put up with the chaos of bringing a half-baked idea to life, I’m offering you a trial period.”

She stared at him, her hazel eyes flicking between disbelief and cautious hope. “A trial period,” she echoed.

He nodded, ignoring the anxious flutter in his stomach. “Two weeks. Maybe more, if you’re up for it. We’ll start drafting a menu, pairing wines, and see how it feels. Once we have a solid plan, I can talk to my folks about renovating the old barn. My parents—Nancy and Hugo Thornberg—are all for expanding what we do here, as long as it’s done right.”

Cassia took another sip of wine, seeming to mull over his words. Kris watched her carefully, noticing the faint pinch in her brow as she weighed the risk of trusting him.

Please,his bear pleaded.Say yes. We need you here.

“This is…unusual,” she said finally. “But you know what? I didn’t drive all the way here to give up at the first hiccup. If you’re serious…”

“I am,” Kris said, a bit too quickly. “We need someone with your skill set. The listing might have started as a…comedic advertisement, but the position can be real if we decide to make it so.” His heart pounded, realizing how desperate that sounded, but he pressed on. “I promise, if you stay, you won’t regret it. Let us prove Bear Creek is worth your time.”

She tilted her head, studying his face, then let out a breath she’d clearly been holding. “All right,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “A trial period. Two weeks, maybe more.”

A surge of triumph shot through Kris’s veins.Yes.He realized he was smiling like a fool, but he didn’t care. “Thank you,” he said simply.

Chapter Four – Cassia

This was crazy. She was agreeing to a two-week trial for a job that, until a couple of minutes ago, did not exist. Worse, the job was at a restaurant that also did not exist.

She should just get out of there, go back home…

What a joke! She did not have a home. Not anymore.

And hadn’t she wanted a fresh start? They sure didn’t come any fresher than this.

She glanced around the tasting room, her eyes settling on the swirling patterns of old wine stains on the floor. “So…where do we start?”

“First, let me show you where we actually produce and store the wines,” Kris said, clearing his throat. “We’ve got some older barrels we can taste from. That’ll give you a good place to start when it comes to potential pairings. And from there, I guess we’ll also talk about your vision for the food side.”

He rose from his chair, retrieving his half-finished glass of Merlot. Cassia stood, too, still clutching hers. He gestured for her to follow him to a side door that led deeper into the production area. Steel tanks and tall racks of barrels loomed around them while a faint hum from the cooling system created a subdued background noise.

“I love the scale of this,” she remarked, running her free hand along a row of stacked crates labeled by year. “It’s big enough to be significant, but still feels personal.” She glanced at him. “That’s how wine should be. Intimate, with a story behind every bottle. Don’t you think?”

Kris offered a small nod, the corners of his mouth lifting in a subtle smile. “Exactly. Wine is not just about mass production. It’s about connecting people with a particular place. We try to keep it that way.”

Cassia let her gaze drift across the towering shelves of dusty bottles and labeled crates. Each date, each variety, represented a chapter in Thornberg Vineyard’s story. One she hoped she’d get to be part of.

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