Page 11 of The Bear's Matchmaking Mix-up Mate
Wren had always loved this time of day, before the world fully awoke. It always seemed quieter, peaceful, as if her fears and worries were far away. Being out here on the mountain made everything feel even more magical. The crisp air filled her lungs as she took a deep breath, savoring the earthy scent of pine and morning dew. Wisps of fog still clung to the ground, dancing between the trees like playful spirits.
Wren glanced at Finn walking beside her, his profile outlined against the brightening sky, and an ache of longing bloomed in her chest. She couldn’t imagine sharing this moment with anyone else.
“I’ve always loved mornings like this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Before everyone else is up. It feels like...borrowed time.”
Finn smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Like you’ve discovered a secret the rest of the world is still sleeping through?”
“Exactly.” Their footsteps fell into a synchronized rhythm on the packed dirt trail. “When I was touring, I’d get up early just to have a moment to myself. Sometimes it was the only quiet I’d get all day.”
The memory didn’t sting as much as she expected. Maybe it was the mountain air. Maybe it was the company.
She glanced at Finn again. Yeah. It might well be the company. There was something about this place, this man, that felt almost…unreal.
Or too real.
“That’s your cabin?” Wren asked as the trail opened to a small clearing, revealing a stunning log cabin that seemed to grow naturally from the mountainside. Sunlight caught on the windows, making them gleam like amber against the weathered wood. The surrounding landscape flowed seamlessly from wild forest to cultivated beauty—wildflowers mingling with thoughtfully placed stones, a small brook winding its way through native grasses.
Finn stopped walking, his gaze fixed on the cabin below. Pride radiated from him as his shoulders straightened almost imperceptibly.
“Yes, this is me. Home sweet home,” he murmured.
“It’s stunning,” she whispered, meaning it completely. The cabin looked like something from a dream, the kind of place she’d imagined when writing songs about belonging.
When she glanced at Finn, she found him already looking at her. Their eyes locked, and for a disorienting moment, Wren could have sworn she heard his voice in her head, clear as day,so are you.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she ducked her head, feeling foolish. She was imagining things. The mountain air, the lack of sleep, the unexpected intimacy of this moment, it was all making her dizzy.
Finn cleared his throat. “Come on, I’m starving.” He nodded toward the cabin, breaking the strange tension between them.
They made their way down the winding path, Wren’s heart still fluttering oddly in her chest. The feeling only intensified as they approached the cabin and she took in the wide, wrap-around porch with its comfortable-looking chairs angled to catch the sunrise.
An unbidden image flashed through her mind of herself and Finn sitting there with mugs of coffee steaming in their hands, shoulders touching, as the sun rose over the mountains. The vision felt so real, so possible, that it sent a jolt through her.
“I just need to grab something from my truck,” Finn said and jogged away to his vehicle.
“Sure,” Wren said, grateful for a moment alone to compose herself. Meeting Finn had stirred up emotions she’d long buried. Hopes she had abandoned.
“Got it!” Finn called, returning with a worn notebook tucked under his arm.
Something about his easy smile, the cabin behind him, and the surreal beauty of it all made Wren’s throat tighten unexpectedly. She blinked rapidly and looked away.
What was he doing to her?
“I met my brother Alfie earlier this morning to talk over plans for the fundraiser we’re organizing,” he explained as they climbed the porch steps.
“Sounds like a good cause,” she said absently as he opened the cabin door.
“It is,” he said as he stepped inside. “Make yourself comfortable.”
That wouldn’t be too hard. The interior of the cabin felt welcoming, with the sunlight casting everything in a golden glow. The living area was open and inviting, with the large windows giving the space a light and airy feel. The furniture was rustic and tasteful, blending perfectly with the exposed beams overhead, while a stone fireplace dominated one wall. Perfect for those long winter nights.
“I’ll get breakfast started,” Finn said, setting his notebook on the kitchen table.
Wren hovered near the door, suddenly unsure. This wasn’t something she did, following men she barely knew into their homes. But something about Finn made her feel safe.
A soft meow drew her attention to a sleek black cat watching her from the back of the sofa.
“That’s Midnight,” Finn said, pulling ingredients from his refrigerator. “She’s the boss around here. The orange one hiding under the coffee table is Rusty, and the gray one…” he paused, looking around, “…who’s probably still asleep in the bedroom is Shadow.”
