Page 21 of The Bear's Matchmaking Mix-up Mate
“Thanks, Jim,” Finn said with genuine relief. He could not wait to get out of there. “Is it on the vineyard account?”
“Sure is.” Jim glanced from Finn to Donna and raised an eyebrow. “Anything else we can do for you today, Finn?”
“No, that’s everything, thanks, Jim.” Finn grabbed the fertilizer bag, hefting it onto his shoulder. “Good to see you, Donna,” he lied, already backing toward the door. “Have a great day.”
“Don’t forget about that private tour!” she called after him, loud enough that several other customers turned to look.
Finn muttered a noncommittal response and hustled out of the store, his ears burning. The cool morning air was a blessed relief after the stifling interaction.
This is exactly what happens every time our brothers meddle,his bear complained.
We don’t know Philip was meddling,Finn reminded him, but his bear was not in the mood for appeasement.
We really need to tell our meddling brothers about Wren,his bear muttered.Then maybe they’d stop throwing other females at us.
I think Donna would be happy to throw herself at us,Finn told his bear as he loaded the fertilizer into the bed of his truck, then pulled out his phone to text Philip a quick “got it” before sliding into the driver’s seat. He glanced over at Wren’s car, where she sat watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite read.
Had she seen Donna’s hands on him? The thought made him cringe. He wanted to explain, to assure Wren that he had no interest in anyone but her, but the words felt too big, too soon. They were still building this fragile thing between them, and he was terrified of pushing too hard, too fast.
Instead, he started his truck and gave her a smile he hoped conveyed everything he couldn’t say. As they pulled out of the parking lot toward Mrs. Abernathy’s cottage, Finn couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, a subtle change in the air, like the first hint of a storm brewing on the horizon.
All he could hope was that he wasn’t about to be struck down by lightning.
Chapter Eight – Wren
Wren wasn’t sure how she felt when she parked her car outside Mrs. Abernathy’s cottage. Her emotions warred within her, confusion, jealousy, and disappointment swirling together like a toxic cocktail. The image of that woman—blonde, confident, gorgeous—running her hands over Finn’s body replayed in her mind on an excruciating loop. The way her perfectly manicured fingers had lingered on his arm, trailed down to his stomach, the familiarity of the gesture was unmistakable.
And Finn had just stood there, letting it happen.
Wren’s cheeks burned hot with humiliation. How could she have been so naïve? She’d actually believed there was something special between them. Had she truly imagined all those shared glances, the electricity when their hands touched, the way he looked at her as if she were the only person in the world?
Yes, it had all been in her head. Just like with Vince. Just like every time before.
She heard the crunch of gravel as Finn’s truck pulled in behind her car. Her stomach twisted into knots. She didn’t want to face him, didn’t want to act like everything was fine when she felt so utterly foolish.
“Get it together,” she whispered to herself, squeezing the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened. “It’s not like you were dating. It’s not like he owes you anything.”
It’s not like you haven’t been through worse.She blinked back tears at that stinging thought. She had been through worse. Much worse, and she had survived. And she would survive this.
But the rational voice couldn’t quiet the hurt pulsing through her veins. She’d let her guard down, started to trust him. And for what? To watch him flirt with some gorgeous blonde while she sat in her car like an idiot?
Wren blew the air out of her cheeks and pushed open her car door before Finn could reach it. She needed to maintain whatever dignity she had left. Grabbing her bag from the passenger seat, she stepped out, keeping her expression carefully neutral.
“Listen,” she said, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears. “Mrs. Abernathy’s can wait if you need to take that special fertilizer over to the vineyard.”
Finn’s smile faltered as he took in her rigid posture. “Wren, about what happened back there…”
“You don’t owe me any explanations,” she cut him off, unable to bear hearing him try to justify what she’d seen. She turned toward the garden gate, desperate to put some distance between them. “We’re just...friends after all. It’s not as if I’m going to be sticking around for long...”
The words tasted bitter on her tongue. Friends. As if that’s all she’d been feeling these past few days.
“That wasn’t what it looked like,” Finn said, following close behind her. His voice had an urgency to it that made her heart stutter traitorously. “Donna is…”
“Donna,” Wren repeated, the name settling like a weight in her stomach. Of course, he knew her name. “Look, it really doesn’t matter.”
No wonder he’d been so keen to go and collect the fertilizer from the agricultural store. It made perfect sense now. Wren bit her lip hard, tasting the faint metallic hint of blood. Philip had asked his brother to go get the fertilizer because he knew thatFinn and Donna had a thing for each other. And Wren had been stupid enough to follow him there like an eager puppy.
“Wren, please,” Finn said, his voice dropping lower as he reached for her arm. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
