Page 3 of Delivered to My Pandas

“And you would have served it to me.” Justice tsked. “Koby, Daddy tried to trick me with the bad fish.”

More giggling and cup banging.

“We’re the best entertainment, aren’t we?” I turned back to assemble a ham-and-cheese sandwich, cut it diagonally, and set it on a plate with a bunch of grapes. When he was tucking in, I plopped down on Koby’s other side. “How was your day?”

“Busy. I was trying to get enough done to be home tomorrow, but it’s not something I can do long-term and neither can you. We have to do something else.”

“A nanny?” We’d discussed that before but hadn’t gotten any applications we wanted to follow up on. “We can try again…”

“No.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I found this app.” He brought it up on the screen and pushed it across the table before picking up his sandwich again. “Look at it and tell me what you think. Koby doesn’t need someone in his life who could leave for another job anytime.”

I read the details on the home page. “The Mail-Order Matings app?” He couldn’t be serious. “You think this is a better solution than a nanny?”

“It is if we find the right mate.”

“They won’t have our fated.” Since we were little cubs growing up together, we’d known we had a shared mate out there somewhere. It wasn’t Angela, but we’d given up on hunting. Where would we find another panda here?

“Probably not. But what can it hurt to try? Koby needs a mother.”

“Won’t the female want a real relationship? I’m not ready to try to build on settling.”

“She’ll have to understand what we need. We are decent guys, Koby is amazing, and we can offer her a nice home. Maybe…maybe that will be enough.”

I started to protest then the memory of our screaming toddler coming out of dreams that could be all about missing his mama came to me. We were struggling to meet his needs and do our jobs at the same time, and wouldn’t it be better to have someone in the home invested in our family than a housekeeper or nanny?

I wasn’t sure it made sense.

But neither did anything else.

“I guess we can sign up and see what happens. We don’t have to accept anyone we don’t like.”

Chapter Three

Livvy

My enthusiasm for flying the coop was short-lived. Turned out that being on my own in the human world was tough, especially for a female who’d never worked a real job. I’d barely talked Jason into letting me get my driver’s license. Panther males are notorious for their machismo, but Jason was softer than the rest. Gentler. More willing to accept that times had changed.

I couldn’t even get a job at the local fast-food place. The look the woman gave me when I interviewed said it all. Twenty-eight years old and never had a job, except for being a notary. I thought maybe the sympathy of my case would factor in, but she was all business. She needed someone with at least some experience and I had none.

Even with what I had saved up, the money wouldn’t last more than six months without some other income trickling in, more than what the pride paid me for notarizing documents—mostly secret shifter ones. I had bills. Bills Jason had once paid for me. He said he would always take care of me. Said that I would have all my needs met.

My only saving grace was that houses and utilities were covered by the pride.

I was a fool to have believed him. Yeah, he was my mate, but I had no sense of self-preservation in those times. I hadn’t educated myself or made sure I had something to fall back on. The money I had saved up was from birthdays and graduation gifts from the pride and my parents. Hell, I even had some graduation money from Jason’s parents.

I’d saved it for our home, foolishly. To buy things for Jason and new things for our house. Some of it I had foolishly kept for a honeymoon.

The urge to smack myself in the forehead constantly was hard to ignore. I had been such a damned fool.

Never again would I put all my trust in a romantic partner. Actually, I would never put all my trust in anyone again. From this point forward, I would always have a back-up plan.

Always.

After a quick check to my bank account, I groaned and grabbed another cup of coffee before clicking on the email icon. I didn’t have to check to know what was in it. Nothing. No job offers. Certainly no one offering to give me a million dollars and a donut for my sadness.

Bastards.

I bit the bullet and checked. Nothing. But, just as I was about to shut the laptop, a new email appeared. An ad, obviously. It showed up right at the top, and my server had already marked it as promotional.

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