Page 20 of The Bear's Matchmaking Mix-up Mate
“Let me help,” Wren said, reaching for the trash.
Their fingers brushed, and that now-familiar spark danced between them. Finn’s bear basked in the sense of connection they shared.
As they walked back to their cars, Finn felt a strange reluctance to separate, even knowing they’d be following each other. “I’ll lead the way,” he said, pointing to his truck. “It’s not far.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Wren promised, and his bear rumbled with satisfaction at the words.
Finn nodded, already hating the few minutes they’d be apart. “It’s just down Main and left at the old mill. Can’t miss it.”
I wish she were riding with us,his bear grumbled.She belongs by our side.
She does,Finn agreed as he watched her climb into her car before reluctantly heading to his truck, hyperaware of her presence behind him as they pulled out of the lot. In his rearview mirror, he could see her following, and something primal and possessive stirred in his chest at the sight.
The agricultural supply store came into view all too soon, its weathered sign creaking slightly in the morning breeze. Finn parked and waved to Wren as she pulled in beside him, then headed inside to collect Philip’s order.
The familiar smell of straw and engine oil greeted him, along with the earthy scent of seed and soil. Shelves stacked with garden tools and farm supplies lined the walls, and sacks of feed created a maze through the center of the store.
“Morning, Jim,” Finn called to the owner, who nodded from behind the counter. “I’m here to pick up an order for Thornberg Vineyard. Philip said it would be ready?”
“Sure thing,” Jim replied, disappearing into the back room. “Just give me a minute to find it.”
Finn browsed absently, mentally cataloging items he might need for Mrs. Abernathy’s garden, when a familiar voice called his name—one that made his shoulders tense immediately.
“Finn Thornberg! I thought that was you.”
He turned to find Donna Harding approaching, her blonde hair perfectly styled despite the early hour, her smile wide and predatory in a way that made his bear retreat with a grumble.
“Donna,” he managed, forcing politeness into his tone. “How are you?”
“Better now,” she said, stepping closer than necessary, her perfume almost overwhelming.
His bear recoiled.Not our mate.
“I haven’t seen you around much lately,” Donna said accusingly as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
Finn took a subtle step back. “Been busy with work. I’ve only stopped by now to pick up the fertilizer for the vineyard.”
“Ah, the gorgeous Thornberg Vineyard,” Donna said, leaning in. “You know, I’ve always wanted a private tour. I bet you know all the best...spots.” The last word dripped with suggestion that made his collar feel suddenly tight.
I don’t think it’s just the vineyard she’d like a private tour of,his bear grumbled.
“We do offer tours on Saturdays,” Finn said, deliberately misunderstanding. “The public ones are really comprehensive.”
Donna laughed too loudly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Oh, you. I meant something more...exclusive.” Her fingers trailed down to his biceps, squeezing appreciatively. “You’ve been working out, haven’t you?”
Finn’s face burned as he tried to extricate himself without being rude. “I should check on that order.” He glanced toward the window, mortified at the thought that Wren might be watching.
“No rush,” Donna purred, her hand somehow finding its way to his abs, which she patted with obvious approval. “Jim alwaystakes forever. We have time to catch up. I hear all your brothers have found their mates. You must get lonely being the only single one…”
His bear writhed in discomfort.Make her stop touching us! Only our mate should touch us like this!
“No, I have plenty to fill my time.” Finn stepped back, bumping into a display of garden gloves. “Actually, I’m in kind of a hurry. I’ve got someone waiting for me.”
Donna’s perfectly plucked eyebrows rose. “Oh? Anyone I know?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the store as if she might spot his companion.
The thought of Donna meeting Wren—of those calculating eyes assessing his mate—made Finn’s stomach clench. “Just a client,” he blurted. “Garden consultation.”
Before Donna could respond, Jim emerged with a large bag of specialized fertilizer. “Found it! Philip ordered it in specially, and it was at the bottom of the pallet.”
