Page 21 of The Bear's Reluctant Mate

Slow,he reminded himself as he stowed the tools and empty trays in the back of the truck and then climbed into the driver’s seat.We’re taking this slow.

But his bear only huffed in response, clearly unconvinced that slow was the way to go when they’d already waited so long to find their mate.

He started the engine and edged forward, watching as Marion helped Charlie into the car. He could tell by the way Charlie was waving his hands around that he was having an animatedconversation with his aunt. Damn, it was a wonderful sight to see.

A few minutes later, Alfie pulled out of the parking lot with his mate’s car right behind him. It was hard to resist looking in the rearview mirror as he drove. But then, he found it impossible to resist his partner, period.

The drive back to the garden center was both too long and too short. Too long to be separated from Marion, too short to prepare himself for what came next. Because coffee and cake meant conversation. It meant learning more about her, about Charlie, about the shadows that lurked behind their careful smiles.

And it meant sharing himself with them. Not everything—not yet—but enough to start building that bridge of trust between them.

As he pulled into the garden center parking lot, Alfie took a deep breath, centering himself. “Ready or not,” he murmured to himself, “here we go.”

Alfie stepped out of his truck and felt a wave of nervousness wash over him. The sensation was so foreign here that it stopped him in his tracks. This was his domain, more of a home than his cabin in the mountains.

A cabin that might not be big enough for our new family,his bear said.

The thought caught Alfie by surprise. His mountain cabin had always seemed perfectly sized for him. With two bedrooms, a spacious living area with windows that looked out over the valley, and a kitchen where he experimented with recipes using herbs from his garden. But now, trying to imagine Marion and Charlie there...

We could extend,he suggested.Add another bedroom for Charlie, maybe expand the kitchen.

But it’s not just our decision,his bear reminded him.

No, it’s not,Alfie agreed.He’d lived alone for so long, making his own decisions, never having to consider anyone else’s opinion.

Except Daisy’s,his bear said lightly.

Alfie chuckled. Yeah, where the garden center was concerned, Daisy was more of a partner than an employee. But this wasn’t about his work life.

It was about his home life. His family life.

A family he did not know. Hell, he didn’t even know where Marion lived in Bear Creek. Was she renting? Had she bought a place? What did she do for work? The questions tumbled through his mind, highlighting how little he actually knew about the woman he had instantly recognized as their mate.

We do not know why she came to Bear Creek. Or what she’s running from,his bear added soberly.

Because she was definitely running from something. Alfie had seen that look before. The heightened vigilance, the careful way she positioned herself to keep Charlie in sight at all times. It was the same haunted wariness he’d seen in the faces of the young shifters who came to his reach-out programs, the ones who struggled with their dual nature, who’d had their transformations come on unexpectedly or traumatically.

To some, being a shifter wasn’t always the gift his family considered it. Especially those who only discovered their true nature when they had their first shift. Without family, or community support, it could be terrifying and isolating.

Maybe we should talk to Dougray,his bear suggested. His cousin’s adopted son had gone through his own strugglesadapting to shifter life. He might have insights on how to approach someone carrying deep wounds.

That’s good thinking,Alfie acknowledged.We could…

Marion’s car pulled up beside his truck, and every coherent thought in Alfie’s head scattered like fall leaves in a strong wind. As she got out, his breath caught in his throat. He still could not believe she was real.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she took in his expression.

“Perfect,” Alfie managed, his voice rougher than he intended. He cleared his throat. “Just thinking about which cake you might like best.”

Charlie scrambled out of the backseat, the heart-shaped stone still clutched in his hand. “I want chocolate!” he declared, some of his earlier shyness replaced by the simple enthusiasm of a child anticipating a treat.

Marion smiled down at him, and the tenderness in her expression made Alfie’s chest ache. “We’ll see what they have,” she said, ruffling Charlie’s hair.

“Welland makesthebest chocolate cake,” Alfie said, falling into step beside them as they walked toward the garden center entrance. “But his lemon drizzle is pretty legendary, too.”

“Sounds like we might need to try both,” Marion said as she flashed Alfie a smile.

“I like the way you think,” Alfie grinned, holding the door open for them.

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