Page 18 of Wrong Number, Right Valentine

I was overwhelmed with guilt at him worrying about me along with all his responsibilities.

“Of course I have questions.” True. “But a door has been opened, and I’ve been given a peek into a different universe. With you at my side, love, I’ll navigate it with only a few bumps.” I wasn’t fibbing, though I’d left out that some of the questions produced nightmares.

“Hmmm.” He peered at the screen. “And yet the dark circles under your eyes tell a story. One that worries me.”

I could pretend I was tired from work, but our relationship would last the rest of our lives, and I didn’t want to start by lying.

“Some scary wolves have been in my dreams, but that’s because meeting a bunch of wolf shifters is an unknown.” The closest experience that was similar was presenting my thesis at college when my knees almost gave way and I desperately needed to pee. But there was really nothing to compare it to.

“I would never put you in danger.”

Him saying that was similar to holding my hand, a hug, or a warm blanket being wrapped around my shoulders.

“I know.”

We ended the call by blowing kisses. Home didn’t seem so scary after that conversation, so I grabbed my laptop and left the office.

There were still wolves on the periphery of my dreams, but they were more watchful than warlike. And I woke up in bed, with the bedding on the mattress and not wrapped around me or thrown on the floor in a heap.

It was a one-coffee morning, and I looked forward to this evening when Reg promised he’d be here.

A knock at the door almost sent me skittering back to that dark place where wolves hid in the shadows ready to pounce, but four-legged creatures didn’t knock on apartment doors.

“Reg!” I fell into his arms which he raised because he had coffee in one hand and a bakery packet in the other.

“Thought you might enjoy something sweet for breakfast.”

I slapped his adorable butt. “Are you talking about what’s in your hand or your pants?” I was frisky after not seeing my mate for a few days.

“Both.” He winked and leaped out of my way. “Which do you want first?”

“Can I have both at the same time?”

He gave me a peck on the lips. “That can be arranged.”

14

REG

I’d driven home many times before, but I’d never been this strange mix of excited and nervous. I was bringing my mate to meet my family for the first time. They were going to love him—of course they would. But there was still that nagging fear, the tiny voice whispering,What if they don’t? What if they meet him and think, “Too human. Not good enough. See ya.”

There was no reason for me to have that fear. I’d told them all about him: how human he was, how we met in the silliest way, and how completely smitten I was with him. They’d even seen pictures. If they’d had any issue with him, they would’ve said something already. In fact, the first thing my dad did when I told him we were coming was to prepare one of the spare cabins for us.

“A newly mated couple needs their privacy,” he’d said. That meant he firmly believed that after this visit, we’d complete the bond.

Still, I wouldn’t breathe easily until the introductions were over and everyone had met him.

“So, tell me about your brother again,” my mate said, pulling me from my thoughts. He’d been peppering me with questions about my family and pack the entire trip, taking notes on his phone. He wanted to do everything right. I kept telling him that all he needed to do was be himself because that was already perfect. But for him, that wasn’t good enough, and I loved that he cared so much. I just wished I could take on some of his worries—though I had plenty of my own. Emotions are funny like that.

“Trenton’s a few years younger than me,” I explained. “He fixes trucks for a living, mostly diesels, though he can work on pickups in a pinch. He’ll probably live on pack lands forever because his wolf is a little ornery and doesn’t like leaving.”

“Your wolf doesn’t mind, though?”

“No, my wolf’s more adventurous than my brother’s. Besides, what I wanted to do couldn’t be done there. I always wanted to be a chef.”

“And own a restaurant?”

“Well, more the first, less the second,” I admitted. “I always wanted to be a chef, and I did it. I became a chef, and it was fine. But I realized that as much as I love cooking, I love the people more. When I became an owner, I found the perfect balance—working the line some nights, running the front of the house others. That’s where I truly found my place. Though, I’ve been excited about possibly hiring a restaurant manager.”

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