Page 1 of The Bear's Matchmaking Mix-up Mate
Chapter One – Finn
Alfie has the subtlety of a grizzly in a China shop,Finn muttered, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he wound his way through the mountain roads. Pines blurred past as sunlight flickered across the dashboard, but his thoughts kept circling back to his brother’s latest attempt toaccidentallyplay matchmaker again.
Yeah, another day, another mis-sent text courtesy of our well-meaning brothers,his bear grumbled, then quickly shifted to amusement.Next time, dodge left.
Thanks for the advice.Finn shook his head, glancing down at the yellow paint stain that stubbornly decorated the shoulder of his jacket. The latest souvenir of his brothers’ interference. Alfie had accidentally sent a DM to Finn—meant for Finlay, his cousin’s teenage stepson—which had landed him smack in the middle of the local paintball club’s weekend tryouts. He’d barely stepped out of his truck before he was pelted by a barrage of neon paintballs.
No amount of scrubbing had removed the stain, and Finn was about to meet a new client looking every bit like the loser of a brawl with a rainbow.
If only Alfie’s matchmaking blunder had actually led him to his mate instead of a paintball ambush, maybe he’d be more forgiving. The truck jolted over a pothole, and his coffee sloshed dangerously, threatening to add another stain to his jacket.
He sighed. His brothers’ hearts were in the right place—they’d all found happiness with their mates, and Finn knew they only wanted the same for him. But lately, every time his phone chimed, he braced for another setup: a Jazzercise class, abirdwatching walk, a moonlit poetry reading… There seemed to be no end to it.
Being the last unmated Thornberg was starting to feel less like fate and more like a cosmic joke he didn’t want to hear the punchline to.
I’d quite like a moonlit poetry reading,his bear said, surprising him.
Better than the paintball firing squad,Finn had to agree.
Or maybe we just need to convince them there’s only one master of matchmaking mix-ups. You.
Finn snorted. “That’ll be the day,” he muttered aloud, but the truth was, the endless matchmaking mix-ups were wearing thin. He was ready for something real, something fate, not family, would send. He just wanted to meet his mate, no drama, no accidents.
He stared out at the incredible view before him, with the creek winding its way through the valley below like a silver thread.
I just wish they’d...Finn lost his train of thought as something rippled through him, a sensation like static electricity dancing across his skin. The hair on his arms stood up.
His bear suddenly surged forward in his consciousness, alert and eager, crowding his thoughts with a single certainty:She’s close.
Finn’s heart stuttered in his chest. The certainty he felt was undeniable, a pull that tugged at something deep within his soul. For a moment, he forgot why he was here as the nearness of his mate robbed him of his senses.
Something was waiting for him at the end of this winding mountain road. Something, someone, who would change his life forever.
As if to confirm this, the strange tingle intensified, prickling down his spine like ice water.
His bear prowled restlessly beneath his skin.She’s close. So close.
Finn’s grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened as he fought the urge to press his foot down on the gas. The need to see her, to meet her, was so intense it threatened to overwhelm him.
Was this how his brothers had felt when they sensed their mates for the first time, thanks to his matchmaking mix-ups? It was primal and instinctive, a certainty that hummed in his blood.
Could it really be? After all the failed set-ups, all the well-intentioned but misguided attempts by his family, could fate have simply led him here?
No mix-up required,his bear chuckled.
The truck rounded the final bend, and a small cottage came into view. It nestled against the hillside as if it had grown there, weathered stone and dark timber blending with the landscape. Finn pulled up beside a neatly stacked woodpile and cut the engine.
Grabbing his leather portfolio from the passenger seat, Finn stepped out of the truck. The mountain air felt different, charged somehow. He straightened his jacket, grimacing at the yellow paint stain, and walked up the stone path. He’d barely taken three steps toward the cottage when the front door swung open.
A woman stood in the doorway, bristling with defensiveness in an oversized sweater that covered her curves.
Her eyes were storm-dark with suspicion, and her auburn hair peeked out from beneath a beanie.
The moment their eyes met, Finn felt the world shift beneath his feet.
Our mate,his bear said.
“You’ve got the wrong place,” she said, her voice cold and clipped.
