Page 55 of The Bear's Perfect Mate
“Are you going to give me a clue?” Sophie asked as they walked hand in hand back to the car.
“No,” Nero said, smiling softly. “But I think you’re going to like it.”
A flicker of doubt crept in. What if it didn’t mean as much to her as it did to him?
She will love it,his bear murmured.How could she not, when she sees it’sFrom Our Heart to Yours?
Yes. He was finally going to show her the piece he’d been working on since the moment they met.
He couldn’t wait.
Today is going to be an extraordinary day,his bear said.
Chapter Twenty – Sophie
Sophie tugged at the zipper of her evening gown, the silky fabric slipping through her trembling fingers for the third time. She caught her reflection in the bedroom mirror. The elegant midnight blue dress Cassia had lent her contrasted beautifully with her skin, but the half-fastened back ruined the effect.
“Come on,” she muttered, twisting awkwardly to reach behind her shoulder blades.
Her borrowed dress shimmered subtly as she moved, the material clearly expensive and well-chosen. Cassia had insisted that she take it when Sophie admitted she hadn’t packed anything suitable for hosting a high-end pop-up dinner. It was perfect…
If only she could get the damn zipper up.
Sophie abandoned the struggle momentarily, taking in her full reflection. Her hair was styled in a careful updo, though it had taken three tries. Her cheeks were flushed with a mix of effort and nerves. Everything looked in place. Everything felt off.
“Good evening, and welcome to my special Bear Creek dinner,” she practiced aloud, squaring her shoulders. “Tonight’s menu draws inspiration from the natural beauty and bounty of these mountains, from the clear streams to the forest floor, culminating in the vineyard’s harvest.”
Her voice faltered on the last word. She sounded rehearsed, stilted. Tito would have called it “inauthentic.” The thought of him made her stomach tighten. Stop it.
She wouldn’t give him one more ounce of her doubt. Not tonight.
This dinner wasn’t about Tito. It was about moving forward, proving to herself, and maybe the world, that she had something real to say with her food.
Sophie took a sip of water, only to spill a drop on the bodice. “Perfect,” she muttered, blotting quickly. She eyed her hair again, considering tugging out a few strands to soften the look. Was she overdoing it?
Her pulse quickened. There’d be food journalists, local influencers, and possible publishers. If she failed tonight...
Stop.
“This is your night,” she told her reflection. “Not his. Yours.”
She returned to the zipper, trying again. Still stuck.
A knock at the door made her jump. “Sophie?” came Nero’s calm voice. “May I come in?”
“Yes,” she called, suddenly very aware of her half-zipped state.
Nero stepped inside, looking effortlessly elegant in a three-piece charcoal suit. He paused, eyes widening as he took her in and swallowed hard. In an instant, she felt confident and desirable.
“You look beautiful.” And she believed him.
“Thanks,” Sophie replied, gesturing helplessly. “But I have a slight wardrobe malfunction.”
“May I help?” he asked, already setting a small velvet box on the dresser.
“Please.”
She turned, revealing the zipper. His fingers brushed her back, sending a thrill of pleasure coursing through her. “A thread’s caught,” he said, gently working it free. “There. Perfect.”
