Page 20 of The Bear's Perfect Mate
So, do you think it’s true, Sophiewasexpecting Tito to propose?Nero asked.
It sure looks that way,his bear said.
“My ex. And my boss,” Sophie added, her voice flat. “I develop recipes for his cookbooks. We were together. Until I found him in bed with my personal assistant two days ago.”
Nero’s bear growled deep inside him, furious that someone had hurt their mate.
Nero’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words rough. “That’s…unforgivable.”
“The worst part? I still have to finish his cookbook,” Sophie said, her voice firmer now. “That’s why I need a quiet place. To work. To think.”
Guilt pricked at Nero’s chest. If Tito hadn’t been a jerk, Sophie might never have come here. They might never have met.
But what a cost for a twist of fate.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she blurted. “We barely know each other.”
“I’m a good listener,” he replied gently.
He turned down the road to his house, the trees growing thicker around them. When they rounded the bend and his cabin came into view, Sophie sat straighter.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“My place,” Nero said as he parked in front of the house and turned off the engine. “It’s private. And the kitchen’s prettygreat, well well-equipped, even if it might be a little dated… It gets the job done.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Sophie half-turned to face him.
“Listen, why don’t we go inside and eat breakfast?” He reached for the bags. “No pressure.”
She hesitated. “It would be a pity to let those cinnamon bear claws go to waste.” Sophie cracked a smile.
“Wait until you taste them.” Nero’s stomach gave an appreciative rumble as he got out of the car with the bags in his hand.
She stepped out of the car, scanning the quiet surroundings as she came around the car to join him. “That’s your workshop?”
He nodded. “Where the magic happens.”
“I’d love to see it,” Sophie said as they headed toward the house.
“And I would love to show it to you.” He climbed the porch steps and opened the front door. “After we’ve eaten.”
“Lead the way.”
“Okay,” Nero said, leading her to the kitchen.
He was suddenly a little nervous. To him, his kitchen was well-equipped, but he was no chef.
You don’t say,his bear chuckled.
As Sophie scanned the kitchen—stainless steel appliances, granite counters, a wide island built for creativity—a smile spread across her face. “This is…incredible. And you don’t cook?”
“You like it?” Nero asked, mirroring her smile.
“Yes, I do,” Sophie said, running her fingers over the countertops.
“You know… If you are looking for somewhere quiet to stay,” he began, “this place has a guest suite. Separate entrance. Full privacy. And obviously…” He gestured to the kitchen. “You could have full use of the kitchen while I’m working.”
Sophie froze. “You’re offering to let me stay here?”
