Page 5 of The Bear's Perfect Mate
“Your recipes saved my sister’s bridal shower after her caterer let her down last minute,” one of them said. “I was so nervous when she asked me to help her out, but they turned out fantastic. And they were so tasty, everyone thought I’d slaved for hours!”
“That’s exactly the point,” Sophie replied, feeling a small surge of pride. “Good food doesn’t have to be complicated.”
As she chatted with them, the hair on the back of her neck prickled. Someone was watching her. Sophie glanced up and immediately locked eyes withhim…the man who had “proposed” to her. He stood across the room, those intense, dark eyes fixed on her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.
Her heart rate quickened as she turned away. Why did he have to be so ridiculously handsome? With his broad shoulders filling out that tailored suit and those strong artist’s hands... She frowned, irritated at her own reaction. She was definitely on the rebound. Hard on the rebound. But then, it had only been two days since her life had imploded. Her romantic life, at least.
Her professional life, on the other hand, was soaring. It was why she’d been invited to this expo in the first place, because she’d somehow become a social media influencer.
She’d been posting on social media for a couple of years, building a small but loyal following, but things had really taken off when she shared the recipes she’d created for her best friend’s wedding. They were simple and stylish, which aligned perfectly with her “Eat It Simple, Sophie” brand.
She thanked her fans and turned to head toward stall number one, the scene of thecrime.It wasn’t exactly how she’d dreamed of being proposed to.
Sophie had always dreamed of a more romantic setting for a proposal. Certainly not a room filled with strangers with their phones raised, capturing her shock for their social feeds.
No, in her fantasies, it had always been somewhere secluded and meaningful, perhaps at sunset in a vineyard, or beside a mountain lake with wildflowers dancing in the breeze. There would be champagne chilling in an ice bucket, and it would be just the two of them, sharing that perfect, intimate moment.
The thought made her chest ache. Had she really believed Tito might be that person? The man who would drop to one knee and offer her forever? She swallowed hard, remembering how easily she’d been swept up in the fantasy, letting herself believe in happily-ever-after despite all the warning signs.
“Such a fool,” she whispered to herself. She now doubted Tito had ever been capable of that kind of romance, because he was not capable of that kind of love. His betrayal had done more than end their relationship; it had poisoned something vital inside her. The ability to trust. To believe.
Sophie felt the telltale burning behind her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. No. She absolutely would not cry here in public. Not when there was every chance someone might capture it on their phone and post it online. She hated the idea that Tito might see it and think her tears were for him.
Because they were not. No, they were for the dream that had died inside her. The dream he had killed.
She reached the stall, decorated with herEat it Simple with Sophiebrand logo and free handouts containing her favorite recipes.
The sight of her brand logo—her name in clean, simple lettering against a soft blue background—brought a brief moment of calm. This was what she should focus on. Not the humiliation of a fake proposal or the sting of Tito’s betrayal.
But then she froze mid-step. Fake-proposal man was walking directly toward her, his determined stride eating up the distance between them.
Sophie swallowed hard. She would much prefer it if he’d kept his distance. After hearing him laughing in the corridor earlier, she was going to need all her self-control not to be rude. And rude did not fit her brand.
Oh, why couldn’t today have gone smoothly? Why can’t you keep it simple, Sophie?she thought with an ironic smile at herself.
“Excuse me,” his deep voice was even more appealing up close, with a hint of gravel that sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine. “I wanted to apologize properly for what happened earlier.”
Sophie squared her shoulders and faced him, determined to remain professional despite the flutter in her stomach. “Which part?” She kept her voice low, mindful of the people nearby who might be watching. “The fake proposal or laughing in the corridor?”
He winced as if she had physically struck him. “Please,” he said, his expression earnest. “It really was a misunderstanding. I’m Nero Thornberg. I made that ring for someone else…my brother texted me the wrong stall number. And well, I must have tripped…”
“Nero Thornberg?” Sophie repeated, recognition dawning. “The jeweler?”
He nodded, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “You’ve heard of me?”
“My best friend, Melissa, has one of your pieces. She never stops showing it off.” Sophie hated that she was engaging with him, but curiosity was getting the better of her. “So you’re saying what happened was...an accident?”
“Completely,” he assured her, then he hesitated. “Though I have to admit, when I saw you, I...”
Something in his gaze made her heart skip a beat. It was intense, almost reverent, as if he was seeing something in her that no one else could.
“You what?” she prompted, suddenly needing to know.
A middle-aged man approached them, clutching one of her recipe cards. Nothing made her happier than the fact that her fan base was so diverse, spanning all walks of life. From the elderly couple in their seventies who loved her comforting stews, to the young, single mom who swore by her quick weeknight dinners. “Excuse me, Sophie?”
“Yes,” Sophie smiled, though inwardly she sighed. As much as she appreciated her fans, right now she would much rather continue her conversation with her fake fiancé.
She really needed to stop thinking of him in terms of marriage. Even if he sure looked like marriage material in that sharp suit and intense eyes that seemed to see right through her.
