Page 38 of The Bear's Reluctant Mate

“Can we camp in them?” Charlie asked. “Or do bears and wolves live in them?”

“Sometimes,” Alfie said. “The bears that live in the mountains sometimes hibernate in them.”

“Cool!” Charlie said as he ran off through the rows of vines, pretending to be a bear.

“He looks so carefree,” Marion said as she watched him go.

“He’s not the only one,” Alfie said.

She ducked her head as heat flared across her face. “We’ve had a rough time of things before we moved to Bear Creek.”

“I gathered,” Alfie said as if choosing his words carefully.

“I was worried I might have made a mistake coming here,” she admitted.

“And now?” he asked.

She didn’t dare look at him as she said, “Now, I think it’s the best decision I could have made. For both of us.”

“I’m glad,” Alfie said as they reached the truck and carefully arranged the logs in the bed. As Alfie helped her stack the branches, their hands brushed, and Marion felt that now-familiar tingle of awareness dance up her arm. She glanced up to find him watching her, something unreadable in his eyes.

For a moment, standing there with Alfie and Charlie, the three of them working together with the vineyard spread out behind them, Marion could almost believe they were a family. That this was their life, collecting logs for bug hotels, exploring forests, heading home for dinner together.

The thought squeezed her heart painfully. She couldn’t afford to think like that. Fairy tales weren’t real, and happy endings were for storybooks, not for women who’d seen the darker side of relationships through her sister’s experience. Alfie was kind and considerate, but she couldn’t read too much into his actions.

Even if she desperately wanted to.

“All set?” Alfie asked, closing the tailgate.

Marion nodded, pushing away her wistful thoughts. “Ready when you are.”

The drive back to town was peaceful, with Charlie pressed against the window, watching the scenery flow by as he clutched Alfie’s magnifying glass. Marion stared straight ahead, not daring to look at Alfie.

He made her feel things that she’d denied herself. Dare she risk opening her heart to him?

So, instead of thinking of the man seated close to her, she thought of her refrigerator and its contents. By the time they reached the little rental house, she had a dinner menu all figured out.

As soon as Alfie turned off the engine, Charlie jumped out of the truck, still full of energy despite the long afternoon.

“Go get cleaned up,” Marion told him as they entered the house. “Hands and face, please.”

“Okay!” Charlie darted down the hallway, his footsteps echoing through the small house.

In the kitchen, Marion set down her bag and turned to Alfie. “Coffee?”

“Please,” he said, setting the wine bottle carefully on the counter.

Marion busied herself with the coffeemaker while Alfie washed his hands at the sink. The domesticity of the moment wasn’t lost on her. How natural it felt to have him in her kitchen, moving around each other with easy familiarity.

She opened the refrigerator and began pulling out ingredients, bell peppers, zucchini, onions, garlic, and chicken breasts. When she turned around, Alfie had already found a cutting board and knife and was reaching for the vegetables.

“May I?” he asked.

Marion nodded, handing him the peppers. They worked in comfortable silence, Alfie chopping vegetables while Marion prepared the chicken and started boiling water for the pasta. They moved around each other as if they’d done this a hundred times before, anticipating each other’s needs without having to ask.

When Alfie reached for the salt at the exact moment she was about to ask for it, Marion felt something shift inside her. A recognition that went beyond the physical attraction she’d been fighting since they met. This felt like something more. Something deeper.

As she watched him expertly dice an onion, his strong hands moving with surprising grace, Marion felt herself falling. Not just for the idea of being in love, but for Alfie himself. This man who talked to plants and made terrible puns and looked at heras if she were the most important thing in the world. Or, at least, his world.

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