Page 8 of The Bear's Mail Order Mate

Yet here she was. In the flesh.

Here she is,his bear murmured, its deep voice thrumming with barely contained excitement.Our mate.

Kris swallowed the excitement—and the panic—tightening in his throat. He needed to keep calm and figure this out. After all, Cassia was here to apply for a job that did not exist.

Yet,his bear said.

Yet,Kris agreed. But somehow, he needed to create the job, and the restaurant, before his mate learned the truth. Because if she did, she might leave his life as abruptly as she’d entered it.

He glanced around the tasting room, his eyes drifting up to the high wooden rafters before moving on to the casks and crates lining the walls. He drew in a deep breath, inhaling the comforting aroma of fermenting grapes and various spices. This was his domain, his place of refuge. But now it felt charged with the electricity of Cassia’s presence.

Then his eyes rested on Cassia. His mate. His true love.

As he let out a long breath, he offered her a neutral smile, reminding himself to act calm. Which was not exactly easy when his bear was practically doing somersaults inside his mind.

You should be doing somersaults, too,his bear said, unable to hide its excitement.This is our mate!

I know,Kris said.And I’m trying to make her stay.

He took another deep breath, exhaling slowly. “So,” he began, “why don’t I show you what we do here? I mean, where we make the wine before we, uh, chat about the details?”

Cassia nodded, though a trace of uncertainty still clung to her face. “Yes, please. I’d love a tour.” There was a note of relief in her voice. She’d likely been worried by Kris’s initial reaction that the entire “job listing” was a mistake.

It was,his bear said.

I know. You know. But Cassia does not need to know,Kris replied. And he’d be damned if he was going to lose her over a misunderstanding.

Not ever,his bear said.

All I have to do is convince her to stay,Kris told his bear.

I’m sure I could,his bear said.After all, who can resist a big cuddly bear?

If we changed places right now and she saw you, I don’t think ‘big cuddly bear’ is exactly the first thought that would go through our mate’s head,Kris said with a chuckle.

Our mate,his bear said dreamily.

“Shall we?” Kris directed Cassia toward the back of the tasting room. The stones underfoot gave way to smooth concrete where the temperature dropped a few degrees. This was the production area. He flipped a switch, and bright overhead lights illuminated rows of gleaming stainless-steel tanks.

“Impressive,” she said as she looked around the room.

“This is the start of the process,” he said, trying to sound professional. “We ferment the grapes in these tanks after the harvest. Different yeasts, different fermentation times. Even slight changes can influence the flavor.” He paused, casting a glance her way. “You know this already, of course.”

She stepped closer to one of the tanks, running her fingertips lightly over the steel. “I do, but I love hearing different vintners talk about it in their own words. You can learn so much about a vineyard’s character by how the owners handle fermentation.” She offered him a small, genuine smile. “Everyone has their own style.”

Kris’s bear rumbled with approval.She is interested. She cares about the craft.

Of course, she cares,he replied.She’s a sommelier.But she wasn’t just any sommelier. She wastheirsommelier.

We should tell her,his bear encouraged.Let her know who we are. That she belongs here. To us.

Not yet,Kris insisted.She’ll freak out.He fought the urge to run a hand through his hair again, a telltale sign of his nerves. No, he needed to keep it together.

He cleared his throat. “Let me show you the barrel-aging room. That’s personally my favorite space.”

Damn, you sound like a nerd,his bear complained.

It’s my superpower,Kris said as he led her through a wide door and down a short corridor into a dimly lit room stacked floor to ceiling with oak barrels. The smell was heavenly. A mix of toasted wood, red wine, and a faint hint of the vineyard’s soil. Low lights gave the barrels a warm, golden glow. Cassia inhaled deeply, and her eyes drifted shut, as though savoring every note of the aroma.

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