Exactly.Matt’s hands moved with a skillfulness honed over hours in the kitchen, dicing the onion into perfect, even cubes.As long as she can carry plates and take orders without…
The thought died mid-sentence.
Something shifted in the air. Not a sound or a smell, something more fundamental, like a change in atmosphericpressure. Matt froze, knife hovering above the cutting board as every nerve ending in his body suddenly went on high alert.
There’s something out there,his bear said, suddenly fully awake and pushing against his consciousness.
Matt couldn’t answer as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A strange sensation pulled at his sternum, as if an invisible thread had hooked beneath his ribs and was drawing him toward the front of the restaurant.
His heartbeat sped up without reason. The kitchen around him blurred at the edges, his focus narrowing to that strange, compelling tug.
She’s coming,his bear whispered with absolute certainty.
She?Matt managed, but even as he asked, he knew.
His bear rose within him, suddenly alert, possessive, reverent.Mate. She’s close. She’s ours.
It can’t be,Matt whispered, but his body betrayed him. His pulse thundered in his ears. His skin prickled with awareness. The knife in his hand trembled slightly before he set it carefully on the cutting board.
It’s her. It has to be. We’ve waited so long.
Matt gripped the edge of the counter, trying to ground himself. This couldn’t be happening. Not today, not during the lunch rush, not when they were already short-staffed and…
Oh yes, it can!his bear crowed happily.
The front door opened.Shewas here.
He knew it with bone-deep certainty, despite being unable to see from the kitchen. The tug beneath his ribs intensified, becoming nearly painful in its insistence.
His bear pushed against his control, desperate to see her, to claim her, to make her his.
“I’m looking for Matt Thornberg?” Her voice carried across the restaurant, and Matt’s bear surged forward with such force that he had to brace himself against the counter.
Ours.The recognition slammed into him, leaving him breathless. Unable to form words.
Can it possibly be? Had Fate finally shown up for them?
Yes!Matt’s bear roared with triumph inside him, nearly overwhelming his human consciousness. The sound reverberated through his body, though no one else could hear it.She’s ours. She’s finally here.
“I’ll be back shortly,” Matt managed to say to his sous chef, Alan, forcing his voice to remain steady when everything inside him wanted to howl with recognition.
Control. He needed control. The restaurant would open in less than an hour. They had reservations for every table. He was responsible for the kitchen, for his staff, for the Thornberg reputation his family had built over generations. He couldn’t afford to lose focus now.
But his bear disagreed, pushing against the confines of his human form.Go to her. Claim her. She’s waiting.
No claiming. Not now,Matt muttered, straightening his shoulders as he walked toward the dining room. Each step closer to her intensified the bond, the invisible thread between them pulling tighter, making his skin feel too small for his body.
When he rounded the corner and saw her fully, the world tilted on its axis. She was even more beautiful than he could have dared hope—warm amber eyes, a gentle curve to her lips, the subtle scent of her skin like mountain air after a rainstorm. The bond between them solidified, no longer just a tug but a solid connection that Matt could almost touch—like a gossamer thread binding his soul to hers.
“I’m Matt Thornberg,” he said, extending his hand and silently praying she couldn’t feel its slight tremor. “You must be Rachel’s friend. Tessa.”
“Tessa Johnson.” Her hand slipped into his, small but strong, and the contact sent a jolt of electricity up his arm. When her eyes widened, he knew she felt it too. “Thank you for letting me help out today. Rachel didn’t want to let you down.”
Her voice washed over him like warm honey, and his bear purred with satisfaction.She’s here. She’s actually here.
Matt forced his face to remain neutral, though he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and breathe her in. “No trouble. We appreciate you stepping in.” He gestured toward the back. “Let me show you around quickly before we open.”
Professional. Keep it professional.The mantra repeated in his head as he led her through the restaurant, explaining the table layout, the ordering system, and where to find extra napkins and silverware.
