Page 44 of The Bear's Matchmaking Mix-up Mate
Finn’s stomach clenched as he read the words on the screen: “Bear Creek Community Garden Fundraiser announces special guest star appearance! Don’t miss this year’s biggest event! Details coming soon!”
His bear stirred anxiously.Wren will see this. She’ll think we betrayed her.
I know,Finn replied, his mind racing. How could he explain this to Wren? She valued her privacy above almost everything else.
“What’s wrong?” Alfie asked, his brow furrowing. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
For a moment, Finn considered telling Alfie everything, that his mate was none other than Wren Hayes, multi-platinum country star currently hiding from the world in Bear Creek. The words hovered on the tip of his tongue.
Don’t,his bear warned.It’s not our secret to share.
He was right. Finn had promised Wren he’d protect her privacy. If word got out about who she was, reporters would descend on Bear Creek like locusts, destroying the peace she’d found here.
“Nothing,” Finn said, forcing a smile. “Just thinking about logistics.”
Alfie raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying Finn’s sudden change of subject. “Okay, logistics.”
As Alfie continued detailing the fundraiser plans, Finn’s phone burned a hole in his pocket. He should text Wren and explain about the post, hopefully, before she saw it. So, when Alfie got up to get them coffee refills, he quickly typed out a text. Then quickly deleted it.
He didn’t want to send a text that might lead to a misunderstanding. So instead, he texted:Lunch at mine? xox
Alfie returned with the coffees, and they talked over the plans for the auction. But Finn couldn’t help being distracted by Wren’s lack of reply.Something’s wrong. She should have answered by now.
She’s probably caught up in her music,his bear replied, although he shared Finn’s fears.
“Earth to Finn,” Alfie called, breaking into his thoughts. “Did you hear what I said about the speaker system?”
“Sorry, what?” Finn tucked his phone away, trying to focus.
Alfie’s eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking to Finn’s pocket where his phone had disappeared. “Everything okay?”
“No,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I was just checking my calendar. I have a lunch appointment.”
You hope,his bear said unhelpfully.
By the time they’d finalized the layout and confirmed the last details, Finn’s phone remained stubbornly silent, and his bear was practically clawing at him to check on Wren.
“If we’re done, I should get going,” he told Alfie, already out of his seat. “I’ll make some calls and be in touch.”
“Sure,” Alfie said, his brow creased. His brother knew him well enough to pick up on Finn’s unease. And well enough not to ask. “Just remember, Finn, I’mrootingfor you and Wren.”
“Thanks, Alfie, that means a lot,” Finn said, giving his brother a quick hug. The warmth of his brother’s support steadied him for a moment, but anxiety quickly returned as he pushed through the café door.
The morning air hit his face as he strode across the garden center parking lot. His pulse quickened with each step, thoughts racing faster than his feet could carry him. What if Wren had seen that post? What if she thought he’d betrayed her trust?
His bear paced anxiously.Hurry, but don’t look like you’re hurrying.
Finn lengthened his stride, fighting the urge to break into a run. He fumbled with his keys as he reached his truck, his usually steady hands trembling slightly as he tried to fit the key into the ignition. The metal scraped against metal before finally sliding home.
“Get it together,” he muttered, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart.
The engine roared to life, and Finn sat for a moment, fingers tight around the steering wheel. He closed his eyes, drawing in another steadying breath before putting the truck in drive.
She might not have seen it,his bear offered hopefully.Maybe she’s still writing songs, too lost in her music to read texts.
“Maybe,” Finn whispered, but the knot in his stomach tightened as he pulled onto the main road.
He forced himself to drive at the speed limit through town, though every instinct screamed at him to floor the accelerator. His fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to change, the seconds stretching like hours.
