Page 51 of The Bear's Mail Order Mate

But Kris cut the engine and unbuckled his seat belt. “My uncle and aunt live around the back, in an apartment.” He looked over at Cassia with a reassuring smile. “Ready to do this?”

She clutched her folder of menu ideas and nodded, though a flutter of nerves coursed through her. It was one thing for Kris and his family to like her menu. But would a restaurant owner respect her ideas or dismiss her as an amateur with fancy notions? There was only one way to find out. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Outside, she rounded the truck to join him, then paused to take in the restaurant’s exterior. A warm stone facade topped by a pitched roof, with stained-glass windows, gave the place a homey yet classy vibe. It fit with Bear Creek’s rustic-chic aesthetic, blending tradition with subtle elegance.

Kris offered his hand, and without hesitation, she slid her fingers through his. Damn. The simplest touch from him set her on fire. She closed her eyes briefly as that tingling sense of recognition—that mate bond—flared up again.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for me not to pick you up and carry you somewhere private?” he murmured roughly.

Her eyelids snapped open. The smolder in his gaze seized her breath. “Do you have any idea how much I want that, too?” she whispered.

A ragged chuckle fell from his lips as he gave a rueful shake of the head. “But duty calls,” he said softly, echoing her thoughts.

She forced herself to swallow the rising desire. “Duty calls,” she agreed. “I want to repay the trust you and your family have put in me.”

Kris reached out to gently cup her cheek, leaning in so close that his breath was like a caress on her skin. “It’s not just on you,” he reminded her. “As Philip said, we’ve wanted to do this for ages. You’re just the kick in the pants we needed.”

Her mouth curved into a lopsided smile. “I’ve never been called a ‘kick in the pants’ before. Let alone twice in a single day.”

His eyes danced with amusement. “I’ll try not to make it a habit.” Then he gave her a featherlight kiss that stole her breath before stepping back, leading her toward the building.

Instead of entering through the restaurant’s front door, they rounded the back. The apartment was not what she was expecting. The back of the building had been extended and remodeled, creating a home with large windows that overlooked a small but lushly planted garden. Cassia caught glimpses of herbs and vegetables growing in neat rows, and a patio area where someone had placed terracotta pots filled with trailing flowers.

It was a little oasis, and obviously well-tended and well-loved.

They followed a stone path to the front door, which was painted an emerald green, and Kris knocked briefly, not waiting for an answer before he opened it and stepped in.

“Uncle Leo! Aunt Elouise!” he called, guiding Cassia into a surprisingly spacious hallway. As they crossed the light and airy space, Cassia caught glimpses of the rooms beyond, which were tastefully decorated with finds that looked like souvenirs from traveling abroad. Shelves holding exotic spices, figurines from different cultures, and paintings with distinctly European influences. Yet it felt homely, warm, and inviting.

“In the kitchen!” a woman’s voice called cheerfully.

Kris took Cassia’s hand again, leading her into a bright, well-equipped kitchen. There, a tall, broad-shouldered man with salt-and-pepper hair turned from the stove, a grin breaking across his face. There was no doubt that this man was a Thornberg. Next to him was a petite woman with laughter in her eyes, who immediately abandoned a bag of flour on the counter to greet them.

“This must be Cassia,” Elouise said, her gaze flicking over Cassia appraisingly, but not unkindly. “We heard you were the one behind these new restaurant plans. And a mate for Kris, too!” She clasped her hands in delight.

Leo set a spoon aside, crossing to Kris and delivering a hearty slap on the shoulder. “A mate, eh? Congratulations, boy!” He pulled Kris into a brief hug, leaving Kris ducking his head in a shy smile. Then he extended a warm handshake to Cassia. “Welcome to the family.”

Heat rushed to Cassia’s cheeks. This family wasted no time in making newcomers feel at home. “Thank you,” she managed, still not entirely used to being introduced in that capacity. But it felt…right. As if she was part of the Thornberg family and always had been. Just as she had always been Kris’s mate, even if they had never met.

“Come, come, have some coffee,” Elouise beckoned, bustling to set two cups on the island counter. “We want to hear about these plans. It’s about time you got around to this restaurant idea. You’ve been talking about it for long enough.”

Leo turned off the stove and wiped his hands, nodding at Cassia. “I hear you’ve been putting together a thorough menu and you might need some recommendations for a chef.”

Cassia relaxed a little, feeling more confident as she took her folder from under her arm. Kris slid onto a barstool beside her, gently brushing his thigh against hers, a subtle hint of closeness that steadied her nerves. “Yes,” she said, clearing her throat. “I have the preliminary menu here—seasonal, local produce, with an emphasis on pairing each dish with a Thornberg wine.”

Elouise and Leo exchanged approving looks as they sipped coffee, leaning in to scan the neatly typed menu pages. Cassia explained her vision of small, rotating courses, a combination of hearty but refined dishes that would showcase each wine’s unique notes.

Kris chimed in occasionally, explaining how their family’s wines had certain distinctive flavors, and how seasonal differences affected each batch. Cassia was grateful for his eager support and her confidence grew as they discussed their plans.

“So you need a chef to bring this menu to life?” Elouise asked, tapping a manicured nail on the appetizer list. “I love that concept of a ‘summer orchard salad’ with the bright tangy dressing.”

Cassia shook her head. “We do. We were hoping you two might help. We want someone experienced, maybe with a background in vineyard restaurants or farm-to-table.”

Leo reached for a worn, leather-bound address book from a kitchen drawer, flipping through the dog-eared pages. “Let’s see, I know quite a few local chefs. Some stayed, some moved on… Ah. Here. Manfred. He worked here for a couple of months as my sous chef, but he really wanted to run his own kitchen. Great with pairing ideas, very methodical.” He lifted his gaze. “He might be ideal.”

Relief coursed through Cassia. Everything was coming together. She turned to Kris, seeing the spark of excitement in his eyes, reflecting her own. “Should we schedule a meeting with him?”

Kris nodded. “Absolutely.” He looked at Leo. “Could you pass along his contact info?”

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