Page 7 of OctoBEARfest

"I didn't know I was ordering the Mount Everest of ice cream sundaes. Are you sure you didn't mix ours up?"

"I," Bill emphasized, "knowbetter than to order a sundae called an 'Avalanche.'"

"You know you're going to have to help me eat this."

Bill grinned. "That's why I didn't order my own, yeah. You have excellent taste in ice cream, by the way." She'd ordered a five-scooper with dark chocolate, raspberry, and cherry icecreams, plus Candy's own hot fudge and raspberry coulis toppings, whipped cream, and no fewer than five cherries on top.

"Thank you. Please proceed to be impressed with how much of this I'll be able to eat." Gwen dug in and groaned with delight at her first bite. "Oh my God, that's really good…everything. Ice cream. Most chocolate ice cream is lacking, but that's amazing. And the hot fudge!"

"I know," Bill said, pleased, as if he was personally responsible for the concoction. "Candy's been running this place for forty years and she wins best ice cream competitions all over the world. The coffee's also really good." He took a sip of his own, watching Gwen enjoy her ice cream with a smile.

She got more than halfway through the huge sundae before nodding at him. "Okay, you can help now. What a gentleman, waiting for me to gorge."

Bill laughed. "That's not how I would have put it!"

"Because you're a gentleman," she said with a sage nod. "So do you want to talk about it?"

He froze with a spoon halfway to the sundae. "Talk about…?"

Gwen waved her own spoon in the general direction of the brewpub. "The whole thing with your family and the pub. There's clearly a lot going on there for you on a, like, personal level. Who better to unburden yourself to than some random rock chick who's gonna be gone at the end of the weekend?"

A crash of real dismay smashed through Bill's chest, making his hand tremble until the spoon actually wobbled. He put it down, not wanting to look—weak, he thought, and momentarily closed his eyes. That was exactly what Gwen was talking about, even if she didn't exactly know it. And in her case, it was the idea that she would be gone in a few days that he could barely stand to imagine. A little part of him protested that she couldn't just up and leave! He'd just found her! She was his fated mate!

But she was also a person with a career of her own, and throwing it all away to watch him struggle with the family business was certainly not on her list of things to do. Even if it suddenly was somehow on that list, Bill would have to be a world-class jackass to keep her from her own dreams.

World-class bear,his bear rumbled reassuringly.Not jackass.

A breath of air escaped him, nowhere near a laugh, but flavored like one.Yeah, buddy. A world-class bear.Which was another thing he'd have to explain at some point.

Maybe not now, though. Not with those pale blue eyes studying him with a concern Bill wouldn't expect from a stranger.

Not a stranger,his bear said, still rumbling and reassuring.Our mate.

Still a stranger,Bill argued, but without heat. Aloud, uncertainly, he said, "Look, none of it's your problem, and I'm sure you don't really want to hear about a ton of family politics."

Gwen put her hand on top of his. Her fingers were cold from gripping a metal spoon that had been diving into ice cream, but the coolness felt good, and he had a sudden, deeply inappropriate thought about where else those cool fingers might feel good. Fortunately, she said, "I actually do. I saw how you were holding back a couple of times at things your brother said, and we only talked to him for about two minutes. There's clearly alotgoing on there. Unburden yourself. That crack he made about me taking over your job, that landed. How come?"

A burst of rough, unhappy laughter erupted from Bill's chest so hard it startled him. "Because I'd love for somebody to take over. Or at least fucking help!"

Horror washed through him as he realized how angry he'd sounded, but before he could apologize, Gwen took a deep breath and let it out on a soft, "And there we have it."

"I didn't mean you!" Bill blurted, mortified, and got the softest, kindest smile he could imagine in return.

"No, obviously, of course you didn't. But seriously, you've got the vibe of a guy who's been carrying it all alone for way too long, and nobody's noticing. I know I'm a flash in the pan in your life, but I'm noticing, okay? So what's the deal? Parents started the business, you're the oldest, so it falls to you to continue it whether you want to or not?"

"It's not even that I don't want to!" Bill slumped, then lifted the spoon again and began fiddling at the edge of a scoop of ice cream, not really sure he should eat some of her sundae while also unburdening himself to Gwen's sympathetic shoulder. It seemed rude, somehow. "Mom and Dad are retired, move-to-Arizona-live-the-good-life retired, and after running the place for a few years, I can't blame them. But Laurie and Jon have no idea how much work it is, and it doesn't matter how often I ask them to help out. They'll do the one thing I ask, and that's it. They run the faire stuff," he admitted to the sundae. "But the rest of it, it's all on me. And we're losing business," he said even more quietly. "I'd hire an assistant manager, but I don't have the budget. So instead, I screw up and hire Gwen Booker, rock star, instead of Gwendolyn Brooker for our jazz festival opener. And you," he said, lifting his gaze, "let it go earlier. When I said I had everything under control. Why'd you do that?"

Her gorgeous eyes widened a bit. "Your brother wanted to tease you, and you were having a bad moment, and I thought arguing would give him more ammunition for a fight you didn't need."

A little flare of something happened in Bill's heart, like a cut was healing. "Are you always this empathetic?"

"Nah. Only toward huge, gorgeous guys who look at me like I'm a mix of their hottest dream and worst nightmare." Gwenlaughed as Bill felt dismay slide over his face. "Oh, come on, big man. Am I wrong?"

"Well—no—but—" Bill spluttered, then shoved a big bite of ice cream into his mouth so he had time to come up with a decent response. He hadn't thought he'd been so obvious about either of those things, but from Gwen's grin, he clearly had been. When the ice cream was gone, he sighed. "Sorry."

"For what? Thinking I'm hot? Under the circumstances I get why I'm your worst nightmare, but I've got no problems with being your hottest dream, too. Seriously, man," she added more quietly. "Your brother's kind of a brat, but have you sat the family down and told them how much you need help?" She paused, examining his expression, then nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Arright, well, look, I'm not going to be the rando who comes into your life and pushes you around, then leaves you wondering what happened to that manic pixie dream girl. But if you'll let me, Iwilltry to help you get through this weekend successfully."

"Why?"

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