Page 49 of On Tap for the Bear
I pour her the honey-lavender ale—the first beer she could taste. Set it in front of her carefully.
She takes a sip, closing her eyes. When she opens them again, they're fixed on mine.
"I need you to explain fated mates," she says quietly. "Because Evelyn mentioned them when I got back to the Inn, and I need to hear it from you. All of it."
My shoulders drop even as my hands tighten on the bar. She's not leaving. Not yet. But this conversation could still change everything.
"Okay." I glance around the dining room. Every table is full, customers are waiting for drinks, and Beau's managing the kitchen alone. "Can you give me twenty minutes? Let me get through the rush, and then we can talk."
"I'll wait."
She nurses her beer while I work, and I'm hyperaware of her presence. Every time I pour a drink or take an order, I feel her eyes on me. Watching. Evaluating. Deciding if I'm worth the risk.
The twenty minutes stretch into forty before the rush finally eases. I catch Beau's eye, and he nods—he'll handle the stragglers. I pour myself a beer and come around to Quinn's side of the bar, taking the stool next to her.
"Fated mates," I start, trying to find the right words. "It's—the bond between two people that the animals inside us recognize as perfect matches. Like two puzzle pieces that fit together in a way nothing else does."
"Your bear recognized me," Quinn says. "When I walked in that first day."
"Yeah. The moment you crossed the threshold, my bear knew." I take a drink, buying time. "It's not just attraction, though that's part of it. It's deeper. Like your soul recognizes something essential in the other person. Something necessary to be whole."
"So you don't have a choice." Her voice is carefully neutral. "The bear decides, and you just... accept it."
"No." I turn to face her fully. "Quinn, listen to me. The bear recognizes you. Feels the pull, the certainty. But I'm not just my bear. I'm human too. And the human side gets to choose."
"Do you, though? Or does the bear's certainty make the choice for you?"
"The bear's certainty makes me pay attention," I say carefully. "Makes me notice things I might have missed otherwise. But everything after that first moment? That's been me choosing you. Every conversation. Every meal I've cooked. Every time I've held back from pushing too hard or demanding too much—that's me making conscious choices about how I treat you."
She doesn't answer right away, staring into her beer. "Evelyn said mate bonds are permanent. That once they form, they can't be broken."
"They're strong," I acknowledge. "Stronger than most human relationships. But they require work, same as anything else. The bond gives you a foundation, but you still have to build something on top of it. You still have to choose each other, day after day."
"What if I can't?" The question comes out small, vulnerable. "What if this is too much? What if I'm not...” She stops, shaking her head.
"Not what?"
"Strong enough. Brave enough." She finally looks at me, and the fear in her eyes is raw, unguarded. "Vanessa took my work and made it hers. Took my credibility, my reputation, everything I'd built. I trusted her, and she used that trust to destroy me." Her voice cracks. "I can't give someone else that kind of control over who I am. I can't...”
"I'm not asking for control." I reach for her hand slowly, giving her time to pull away. She doesn't. "I'm not Vanessa. I'm not here to take anything from you or use you or make you smaller so I can be bigger. I'm asking you to share your life with me. There's a difference."
"Is there?" She searches my face. "Because from where I'm sitting, a mate bond sounds an awful lot like giving up my autonomy. Like letting someone else's certainty override my own choices."
"Then let me be clear about what I'm asking for." I lace my fingers with hers. "I want you to stay in Redwood Rise. I want you to give us a chance to build something real. But I'm not asking you to give up your career or your independence or any part of who you are. I'm asking you to let me stand beside you while you figure out what comes next. To let me support you instead of trying to do everything alone."
"I don't know how to do that," she whispers. "I don't know how to trust someone not to hurt me again."
"Then start small. Trust me with dinner tomorrow. Trust me with a walk through town. Trust me with one day at a time until it gets easier." I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm not going anywhere, Quinn. Whether you're ready for this bond or not, whether you stay or go—I'm yours. That's not changing."
She's blinking rapidly, fighting tears. "That's not fair."
"What's not fair?"
"You can't just...” She gestures helplessly. "You can't just say things like that and expect me not to...”
"Not to what?"
"Fall for you." The words come out angry, frustrated. "I'm trying to be smart about this. Trying to protect myself. And you keep making it impossible."
