Page 12 of Knot Quite Ready

I growl in frustration, shoving the till closed and turning to flip the switches off before heading upstairs to the apartment. I'm flipping back and forth between wanting to find him and wanting to run far away. Agatha won't hear of it, though, and for the first time, I feel like I'm losing control of my shifter side. So I lock her down tight, and I try and fail to put his identity to the back of my mind and just focus on getting through the next several days.

Luckily, although it was close, my heat hasn't started yet. The waves are coming, though, and they're damn uncomfortable—more so than usual—and I know it has to be because of Casimir. At least with the waves, I'm able to take the edge off with the furious use of all my vibrators, enough to stop me from feeling like my skin is going to melt off with lust. My favorite one, Sir Howler, even mimics an alpha's cock, knot, and all. Although I'm positive the real thing is a lot better. The shit I have to do to avoid a mate is ridiculous.

You should stop this nonsense; our heat is coming closer. I cannot stave it off any longer while you come to your senses. Find my mate.

I scowl as I make my way to the apartment. "You do realize that I am not a tracker. Most wolves wouldn't be able to weave through that cocktail of scents to properly hunt someone down. Besides, we have a date tonight, so stave it off just a bit longer, and we may be able to take a break from the toys tonight."

She grumbles in annoyance, and I ignore her as I strip and jump into the shower to start the motions of getting ready for tonight. Because, on the pain of death, as much as I want to stay in my nest, I'm going to have to go. Even with Storm avoiding my crabby ass for the last couple of nights, she hasn't stopped in her quest for me to find at least a good, consistent fuck. And last night, after hitting a popular shifter club, she found an alpha for me to go on a date with. Granted, she did let it slip that he was a cougar alpha, but even though our species didn't mix well, cougars were notoriously good in bed. That fact, coupled with her assurance that this guy is sexy as sin and unattached, is why I promised to at least entertain the idea. Then she told me to get my head out of my ass, picked out an outfit, and laid it out before heading out to check on the Bed and Breakfast for the day.

I would deny it until my dying breath, but that woman scares me. But, as Agatha pointed out, a best friend should always be a little terrifying; otherwise, they're boring.

I look at my phone as it buzzes on my way out the door.

Storm:Hairy the fuck up.

I roll my eyes as I put my phone in my back, not bothering to respond to her ass; I would see her in a few minutes anyway. Everything in town was a few minutes away, another plus for Cabria Falls, not that it needed more.

We are going to be meeting in one local restaurant that is popular with tourists and locals alike, A Pounce of Flavor. Pierce’s grandmother owned it, and the pack ran it and everything there was mouth-watering, so even if the date goes tits up, then at least I’ll have enjoyed the food.

Pulling up to the restaurant, I take one last look at my reflection in the car mirror and deem myself acceptable. More than acceptable, actually, with my long hair tumbling over my shoulder, the light, subtle makeup, and the turquoise dress that compliments the golden glow of my skin, I’m sure Storm would approve.

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, the car door opens with Storm on the other side.

She lets out a low whistle and nods in approval. “You are so getting laid tonight.”

I laugh as I jump out of the car and smooth my hands down my dress, which Storm hikes back up.

I roll my eyes at her.

“You look fucking stunning. I know this isn’t your mate— he’s dropped off the face of the earth, but in the meantime, you will have some fun tonight. His name is Ralph. He will be the one that smells like a cougar,” she cackles.

“Got it. What does he look like?” I ask.

She shrugs, “Hot. Anyways, I love you dearly. Get your ass inside. I’ll be a few shops over with the girls. If you need me, text me, and I’ll be here ready to shank someone and hide the body.”

I manage to get out an ‘I love you’ before she shoves me inside and strides down the street.

* * *

As I walkinto the restaurant, I’m instantly hit in the face by the aromas wafting from the open kitchen, where I can see the chefs preparing the meals. Half of me wants to jump into the kitchen and eat straight from the pots. But I didn’t think Imelda would appreciate that.

“Hey, Aneira, Storm just texted me.” I wipe up the mental slobber as Paige, Imelda’s granddaughter, calls my attention to where she is standing at the reception desk.

I roll my eyes, “of course she did. That little busybody.”

She laughs, the throaty chuckle making heads turn our way. I could have told them all to a. Pay attention to their date and b, Paige was far from interested in anyone other than finding her true mate, and c, Pierce would rip the head off of anyone who looked at his younger sister. But I couldn’t fault them for looking; with her bright green eyes and lush curves, Paige was a knockout. She would also knock you out. The appeal was double-fold.

“She just wants what’s best for you. Even if she has to tie you down and beat you into submission to make sure you get it. It’s what makes her so damn loveable,” Paige smiles warmly.

She isn’t wrong. Storm has a choke-you-but-love-you thing going on for her that makes everyone adore her.

“Yeah, yeah. Now, where am I going?” I look around the cozy restaurant, passing the many diners as I try to sniff out a cougar, but the scent isn’t coming through. I frown.

“No worries, I’ll take you to your seat. He’s in the back.”

I give a nod of thanks and follow her through the crowd towards the back, where a man sits with his back to us. His head turns as he senses us, and he stands in a smooth motion, turning to greet us with a smile on his handsome face as he buttons up his suit jacket.

I fight the urge to stare, but just barely, because he is something to behold. Imposingly tall, his gorgeous mocha skin glows under the light, and his obsidian eyes glint with some emotion that I can’t fathom through my mounting confusion becausethisguy in front of me, with a panty-melting smile, is not a cougar shifter. He’s a horse shifter.

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