Kirk moved between the neat rows of plants, methodically checking each one for signs of distress.
What about our signs of distress?his bear asked, replaying the moment their mate had walked away earlier that day.
As Kirk pictured Isla’s face, he knew his bear was right. Their mate had been distressed, too.
Kirk shook his head as he ran his fingers along the glossy green leaves of a vigorous plant.I should have handled it better.
Restaurant destroyer.
The words still burned in his mind. How could the woman who had stood in his kitchen, who had handled wild mushrooms with such reverence, who had kissed him beneath the moonlight, be the same person who made her living tearing down what other people had made?
Worse, he feared she had come to Bear Creek to destroy his family’s restaurant. And that was what tore him up the most. If her life took her elsewhere, he would follow. No questions asked.
But if she tried to destroy the Thornberg Restaurant with one of her brutal reviews, it would hurt his family in ways she would never understand. And perhaps force him to choose between them and her.
And that would be a terrible choice.
His bear went suddenly still.She’s here.
Kirk froze, his hand suspended above a ripening habanero. The awareness came first—that peculiar tug in his chest thatsignaled his mate was near. Then her scent reached him, carried on the humid greenhouse air.
Something felt different.
Different in a way that made hope flicker to life despite his better judgment.
The door hinges creaked softly. Kirk didn’t turn around. Instead, he focused on the plant before him, running his thumb over the smooth skin of the pepper. He heard her footsteps, hesitant on the stone path that ran the length of the greenhouse.
“Kirk?” Her voice was low, uncertain in a way he had not heard before.
He straightened slowly and turned to face her. Isla stood halfway down the path, sunlight filtering through the glass ceiling and casting dappled patterns across her face. She looked tired, her eyes dark, and he could not tell whether she had been crying.
It took all his strength not to go to her, wrap her in his arms, and tell her he loved her above everything else in this world, no matter what.
But he stood where he was. This moment would shape whatever came next.
And it had to be their choice, not fate’s.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.
“I went to the restaurant.” The words tumbled from her in a rush. “To your family’s restaurant.”
Kirk’s muscles tensed. His bear, so still moments ago, growled low in his mind.
“To review it?” he asked, unable to keep the edge from his voice.
“That was the plan.” Isla took a step closer, her hands twisting together in front of her. “I had my laptop open, fingers on the keyboard. I was going to write the most cutting, clever review I could manage.” She paused, looking down at her hands. “I was hurt and angry after what happened at the market, and I wanted to… I don’t know, prove something.”
Kirk crossed his arms over his chest. “And did you? Write your review?”
“No.” She met his eyes then, something raw and honest in her gaze. “I couldn’t do it. I sat there watching Percy help Rachel in the herb garden, talking with your mother, and I just… couldn’t.”
His bear perked up, curious despite its wariness. Kirk moved to a nearby workbench, putting a little distance between them as he tried to process what she was saying.
“My mother?” he asked.
“Eleanor sat with me,” Isla explained. “She asked me what I really wanted.” Her voice caught slightly. “It’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a long time. One I’ve avoided because it felt safer not to look too hard for the answer.”
Kirk busied his hands with a small trowel, turning it over and over. “And what did you tell her?”
