Page 6 of Stout Bear

Ivy leaned over to check the sample, her expression thoughtful. “That’s what we’re here for,” she replied, calm but firm. “We do routine checks at that location, but if you need to do additional tests, you’ll have to request permission. Contact the brewery and let them know what you’ve found.”

Ivy’s response held no dismissal, no patronizing tone—just professional respect and practical advice. The feeling of being taken seriously sent a wave of relief through Laney.

“I’ll visit the brewery and explain the situation,” Laney said.

“Let me know what you find,” Ivy said before walking into her office.

Laney printed out a concise summary of the anomalies, anticipating a conversation with the brewery staff. Her notes presented the data objectively without speculation about cause. She acknowledged the risk of being branded an alarmist again but couldn’t ignore the unsettling evidence.

Laney slipped her analysis report into a folder and checked her phone for the location of the brewery. She felt a twinge of anxiety but knew she had to do something before the problem got worse. The brewery needed to know about the potential threat to their water supply, and she needed their permission to investigate further.

Chapter

Seven

Laney parkedher car in the lot of Fate Mountain Brewery and got out. The early evening sky glowed with a golden light, casting long shadows across the parking area. The building was constructed with local timber and stone. A large wooden sign hung above the entrance, depicting a stylized mountain with a frothy mug of beer.

Laney pulled open the large wooden door to the brewery. In her haste, she caught her foot on the threshold and tumbled forward onto her knees, papers scattering across the polished wooden floor.

A few startled gasps came from nearby patrons. A brewery staff member began to rush over but was quickly outpaced by a tall man moving with surprising agility through the crowded space. Laney flushed with embarrassment.

The man knelt down, helping Laney collect her scattered papers and offering his hand to help her up. The moment their hands touched, Laney felt a jolt that shot up her arm. She looked up and noticed his imposing figure—tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair a bit tousled as if he’d been running his fingersthrough it. Recognition struck her immediately. It was Stout Bear.

“Are you all right? That was quite a fall,” he said, his voice soft and concerned.

“I’m... I’m fine. Thank you... I just lost my footing,” Laney replied, her voice coming out more flustered than she intended.

She stood, brushing off her knees. She tried to regain composure while her face burned as hot as molten lava. He gently placed her papers back into her hands, not taking his eyes off her. She saw concern in his deep brown eyes, which instantly made her heart skip a beat.

The rustic interior of the brewery surrounded them. Warm wooden beams stretched overhead, and a polished mahogany bar lined one wall, while patrons seated at tables generated a low hum of conversation. A pool table occupied one corner, with darts on the adjacent wall. It looked like the kind of place where everybody knew your name.

“I’m from the Bright Institute for Shifters, here to speak with the owner about some water data. Are you... in charge?” Laney asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“I am. I’m Max Bock. Let’s sit and talk,” he replied with a polite nod.

Max led Laney to a corner table by a large window overlooking the town square. He signaled a staff member. “Could you bring her a soft drink, please?”

“Thank you. I’m Laney Collins, an environmental scientist. I recently completed analysis on water samples from your holdingtank,” Laney said, clearing her throat. Her fox was practically whining.

“Can I be honest? My bear is clawing at me right now. I think you might be... my mate,” Max said, his voice soft but firm. She was overwhelmed by the directness of his statement.

“I... well, I recognized you too. From mate.com. I’m Hydro Girl,” Laney admitted, her heart racing at the acknowledgment of what they both clearly felt. Laney’s insecurities flared.

“But I deleted my account. I have so much going on. A new job, a new town,” Laney said, her voice unsteady as she tried to rein in her inner fox.

Max paused, his face falling. For a moment she thought he would object, sweep her off her feet and plant a kiss on her lips. He looked out the window, staring out at the passing cars on the street.

“I get it,” he finally said, in a low voice as he turned back to her. “I’m managing the upcoming beer festival. I’ve got a lot going on too.”

Laney felt a pang of disappointment that he wasn’t fighting for her. But of course he wasn’t. That was why she avoided this in the first place. She’d never be good enough for a man like him.

She nodded in agreement, though the undercurrent of longing remained palpable inside her. The staff member returned with Laney’s soft drink. She took a sip, forcing herself to appear composed despite the chaotic storm of emotions raging inside her.

Chapter

Eight

Mate.Mate. Mate.

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