His mind began to unravel as he openly gaped at the man. No, no, no. He couldn’t do this. He needed to get the hell out of here or else he might—

“Excuse me!” He was jostled to the side by a sharp tone when a heavy-set waitress elbowed past him rather rudely. Dazed, he swallowed hard and backed away, mumbling an apology, only to stop when a gentle hand squeezed over his shoulder. His gut plummeted. Sunk. He was so sunk.

“Come sit down?” There was a touch of hope to the man’s voice.

“S-Sure.” Thiessen grasped wildly at his composure and stumbled the rest of the way to the table—their table, since this was quite obviously his date. He sank down into the padded seat and offered a too-tight smile. His brain fumbled over thoughts, trying to form the words that he suddenly needed to say, but the connection to his tongue was apparently faulty so he remained silent.

Smooth.

The man who’d infiltrated his every dream smiled broadly at him. That little pucker of a dimple showed up again and the muscles in Thiessen’s belly fluttered. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It had been almost ten years since a man had left him speechless. He’d been thirteen when he first met Bo Gentry. When the boy had smiled at him, he’d immediately felt a knee-jerk tug at the very center of himself and he knew right then and there, they were meant to be together.

And now he was feeling it all over again.

“Hello there. Seems we didn’t get the chance for proper introductions the other day.” The man’s brown eyes smiled right along with him and Thiessen got the feeling that happiness wasn’t hard to come by for this guy. He outstretched a hand. “I’m Jory.”

“Thiessen,” he managed to eke out, wiping his sweaty palm on his thigh before grasping Jory’s hand in a quick but firm shake.

“Nice to meet you—officially.” Jory studied him, his head tilted to the side. “Are you nervous?”

Damn it, was it that obvious? “I’m sorry. I don’t normally do this…”

“Date?” the man queried and slowly, Thiessen shook his head. Jory chuckled. “Don’t worry. I don’t either. I can’t remember the last time I had a sit-down dinner with someone, let alone a date. Relax. I don’t bite,” he promised, but the grin that twitched at the corner of his mouth said that he might, if Thiessen was into that sort of thing.

God, and the man was even sexier up close. How was that even possible? His black hair was worn short, shorn close on the sides and trimmed as neatly as his facial hair, which sported a couple of silvery hairs. The guy looked like he could nearly be ten years his senior, but damn if that wasn’t turning all of his knobs right now. Plus he smelled good.

Thiessen’s heart galloped wildly in his chest, left unchecked. He needed to get a grip on his hormones and fast, because that was what this was—pheromones and loneliness wrapped up in a neat little package and suddenly, his tight pants were a little bit tighter. Fuck.

Jory’s chuckle drew his gaze back up. “Okay there?”

Thiessen sat up straighter, heat creeping up his neck. Get it together. “Yeah, I’m just… Sorry.”

“It’s been awhile since someone looked at me like that, too,” the man teased.

His skin prickled and buzzed to life. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” With a pleased little smile on his face, Jory flipped open the menu in all of its glossy, gold-embellished glory. His face now hidden from view, Thiessen was finally able to breathe. He snatched up his own menu and skimmed through the options, though he already knew what he was getting. Why would you go to a steakhouse and order something like chicken or ribs?

The din of conversation from the surrounding tables seemed to only punctuate the silence between them and Thiessen squirmed. He wasn’t good at this, but there was something about Jory that made a tiny part of him wish he was.

“What are you getting?” He ventured out into the rocky landscape that was small-talk.

Jory peeked over the edge of the menu. His eyes glittered with mischief. “I’ll never tell.”

Surprising himself, Thiessen laughed. “Go big or go home.”

“Oh, definitely. It’s just a matter of how big. I’m starving and I apologize in advance for my neanderthal ways.” With a hearty chuckle, Jory laid the menu back down on the table and picked up his glass of ice water. He didn’t bother with the straw, still wrapped on the table; he sipped it from the edge. “You wanna order wine, or is that presumptuous?”

Thiessen’s pulse skipped a beat. “Uh, definitely presumptuous.” Anything else he might’ve said was lost when a tall waitress came rushing over, her blonde hair flyaway and falling loose from its bun. Her cheeks were red, like she hadn’t had a break in hours.

Still, she wore a big smile. “Are we ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?”

Jory glanced at him. “I’m ready.”

Thiessen quickly nodded. “Yeah.” When the waitress looked at him, pen in hand, he rattled off his order—an eight-ounce porterhouse, medium-rare, with a loaded baked potato and some of their homestyle mac and cheese. Jory shot him an approving look and it almost made him smile. This wasn’t so bad. Definitely an upgrade from the last blind date he’d been on.

“I’m gonna go with your T-bone, medium-well, and I’ll also do your loaded baked potato, extra sour cream on the side, and a salad with Caeser dressing, please and thank you.” He flashed his dimple at the waitress, who giggled before spinning on her heel to disappear back into the crowd. Then he returned his full attention to Thiessen, and Thiessen was well aware of it too. “So what shall we talk about?”

“Uh.” He made a face.

“We’ll start with the basics, then, take it nice and slow.” Jory winked. “So, obviously we both have jobs. What do you do for a living? I’m Sundog Park’s veterinarian—our only vet, currently, since Doc Jones retired a couple years ago to go spend his golden years in sunny Palm Beach, Florida. I will openly admit that I am jealous he gets to escape these harsh Indiana winters.”

Thiessen took a drink, willing his nerves to go away. Suddenly, he didn’t want to fuck this up. He might’ve left a bad first impression, but it seemed Jory was more than willing to let him make up for it. “I…write, actually. I’m an author.”

“For real? That’s crazy. What do you write?” Jory steepled his fingers and leaned forward, like he was genuinely interested and not just smooth-talking in hopes of getting into Thiessen’s pants later. “I’m a voracious reader. You know that ebook subscription thing? I’m all about that.”

He squirmed a little. “Is it embarrassing if I say I write romance?”

“Only if it’s embarrassing if I admit I read romance.” Jory shrugged a broad shoulder, then flicked gelled bangs out of his face with two fingers. “There’s a reader for every book, from fluffy romance to bloody horror, but happily-ever-afters have always given me that little rush of happiness. A well-written novel is an experience, and seeing fictional couples work through their issues gives me hope that I won’t end up dying alone.”

Thiessen raised a brow. “Morbid.”

“I suppose.” He chuckled with a sweep of a hand. “Do you have any pets? You strike me as a cat person. Quiet and watchful, maybe a little bit aloof around strangers.” Damn. He was good—and far smoother than Thiessen could ever hope to be.

“I have a cat, and you should be thankful you’re not his vet. He was a stray on the streets for years and he’s shredded many a hands getting his annual vaccinations. He hates everyone. Sometimes, I think he hates me too, but I don’t mind. He’s got a home for the rest of his years.” He would never toss Dustfeather out in the cold, not even if the old codger bit off one of his fingers. No, he’d seen too much of himself in that terrified stray to ever cast him away.

Jory shook his head in amusement. “I’m pretty sure I can handle him. Who do you go to?”

“Dupont, up on Pointe Center. They’re a little bit pricey, but they haven’t turned me away like other people. Usually, vets take one look at my screaming, spitting bundle of joy and point me to the nearest exit.” He huffed. “I’m fond of his dumb ass though, even if he only lets me pet him two days a month.” He was exaggerating, but he got the feeling Jory understood.

“Bring him by next time he needs something and I’ll take a look at a much fairer price than Dupont, I guarantee.”

“Salesman. I like it. What about you?”

“I have a husky named Felicity. She’s a good girl and shockingly well-behaved for her age, but I keep her worn down with bones and exercise. She’s my jogging partner.” The man practically glowed with pride and Thiessen had to smile. He seemed the sort of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve and lived passionately.

Probably loves passionately, too, his mind whispered rather unhelpfully. Thiessen swallowed a groan at the thoughts that bombarded him, most of them inappropriate for dinnertime conversation, and he could feel himself heating up.

Thankfully, Jory didn’t seem to notice his squirming. He switched the topic over to movies and television and Thiessen focused all of his attention on that instead. They spent forty-five minutes chatting before their winded waitress came rushing back over, heavy plates balanced in her hands.

“Sorry, we’re running a bit behind. We’re so busy tonight. Typical Friday.” She offered an apologetic smile as she sat their meals down in front of them with a clink of china. “Enjoy! If you need anything, just wave me down.”

“Er—actually, do you have A1 sauce?” Thiessen asked.

“Oh, definitely. Let me grab you a bottle!”

She scurried off and Jory raised a brow. Thiessen huffed and picked up the serrated knife sitting on his white fabric napkin. “Don’t judge me. You can’t eat steak without A1 sauce. It’s sacrilege.” Pointing the knife at the man, he began to methodically saw through the buttery soft steak, which oozed juices with each cut he made.

“Maybe if you ordered it with a little less “moo” you wouldn’t need to cover up the taste of a fine piece of meat with steak sauce.” Jory gestured to the blood pooling in the dips of Thiessen’s plate and before Thiessen could check himself, he pulled a Peri and stuck out his tongue.

“Moo.” He speared a piece on his fork and took his first bite, about groaning with pleasure. There was nothing better than a well-cooked steak, and this was the best he’d had in a long time. The meat was tender and practically melt-in-your-mouth. He chewed it slowly before swallowing and reaching for his drink. He took a gulp of water, crunching the little ice chips between his teeth. “Perfect.”

“Enjoy,” their waitress chirped, setting a small bottle of steak sauce on their table. She refilled their water before someone called her off once more. “Wave if you need anything.”

Poor girl. Her feet had to be killing her. When he looked up at Jory, he found the man staring at him with a tilted smile. Thiessen paused, his fork poised in midair. Did he have something in his teeth? What was that look about? “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Thiessen snorted.

“Such a foul mouth for such a pretty face,” Jory tittered, and that shut him up. Heat prickled through him at the smile Jory wore, rushing to the surface until he knew his face had to be beet red. Ugh, he hated that his buttons were so easily pushed. He quickly focused his attention on his meal.

“What? No one’s ever called you cute before?”

Not in a very long time. But Thiessen only shrugged. “Compliments and I don’t get along very well,” he said after a long pause.

“Mmm? That’s a shame, because it’s true.” The man chuckled softly, then slid the bottle of steak sauce across the table until it clinked against his plate. His gaze darted up once more, but there was a softness to Jory’s features now. “Here. Go ahead and murder that poor innocent cut of meat. I won’t tell anyone,” he said with a wink and for some reason, it made Thiessen smile.

After they’d finished up with dinner, Jory insisted on paying the tab, but Thiessen dropped a twenty on the table on their way out. Their waitress had been a rockstar and he knew from experience that waitstaff were paid peanuts, even though they spent their Friday nights racing around on aching feet in attempts to make their patrons happy.

“Do you want a ride home?” Jory stopped on the curb and looked up at the sky. Thiessen’s gaze soon followed. Rain clouds were moving in, covering the dusk-touched sky with their darkness. The chill to the air was damp and Thiessen pulled his jacket closed tighter around him.

“That would be nice. Thanks.”

Together, they walked out to the parking lot. Jory pushed a button on his keyfob and his headlights blinked to life and once more, Thiessen found himself riding in the man’s sleek panther of an SUV. Now that he wasn’t soaked to the bone, he could appreciate the vehicle with its luxury seating and creamy leather interior. The dashboard lit up with a soft blue glow and the LCD screen displayed the date, time and current temperature.

“It’s gonna rain,” he mused out loud.

“Probably. Gotta love Indiana.” Jory flashed a grin. “I don’t mind, though. It’s home.” Smooth jazz tunes played low on the radio, distracting Thiessen from the raindrops that began to splatter the windshield. “There she goes,” the man whispered, as if in awe of Mother Nature’s beauty and Thiessen had to admit, that was kind of sexy in a weird way.

It was coming down in a steady drizzle by the time they turned onto the long, winding gravel drive that led to the “mansion on the hill” as Peri liked to call it. Jory pulled up as close as he could get to the door and put the car in park, letting it idle there for a minute.

Thiessen hesitated, his hand poised over the door handle. “I… Thanks for dinner. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Jory agreed. “I know we agreed no wine, but would it be too forward to ask for your number?”

Thiessen froze. What? His pulse throbbed at his throat as Jory’s words seemed to echo in his ears. His number. He wanted to see him again? He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I—”

“You totally don’t have to,” the man assured him. “But you seem like someone I’d get along with and I’d like to be friends, if you’re up to it?”

When Thiessen opened and shut his mouth in an attempt to say something, Jory waved his hand. “Here, how about this. I’ll give you my number and if you get bored and wanna chat sometime, text me.”

He grabbed his wallet from the center console and flipped it open. He handed Thiessen a business card. “The line’s always open. Have a good night, Thiessen.”

Thiessen nodded, still too dumbfounded to speak, then hurried up the walkway to get out of the rain. When he reached the front door, he turned around to see Jory wave goodbye before he puttered off into the foggy night.

He groaned and went inside, slamming the door behind him hard enough that the pictures on the walls rattled. “Damn it, Peri,” he growled. She couldn’t have picked a better date—but wasn’t that the whole point? She’d been trying to set him up for months now.

It just bothered him how much he’d actually enjoyed himself. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all. Jory seemed to be the real deal, soft and sweet and genuine. Exactly the kind of guy that Thiessen could envision a future with, and that scared him.

Ugh, why did Jory have to be such a damn gentleman? And with dimples! If his dreams weren’t bad enough already, Thiessen had the feeling that they’d be far more intense tonight, now that he could put a name with a face.

“Fuck!”

Slapping the business card down on the kitchen island, he wheeled away. Suddenly, desperately needing to give himself some distance from Real Life, he did the only thing that he knew would release the tension growing taut in his chest.

He wrote.

It had been a long time since Jory had been jazzed up like this. His entire body was buzzing, electricity combining with pent-up energy to sizzle at his nerve endings. It made the fine hairs at the back of his neck tingle and stand at attention.

It felt good. He felt alive in a way he hadn’t felt in quite awhile, and he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. The rain had dissipated, but his headlights got tangled up in the misty fog that was starting to drift along the ground.

Still. Jazzed was a good sign. Jazzed meant that all of his vital parts were still functioning, both inside and out. There for awhile, he’d wondered if he’d ever meet someone who could reach in and touch his mind the way Seth had, but there was something about Thiessen that had him firing on all cylinders.

Peri had given him a little bit of insight into the enigmatic mind of Thiessen Ward prior to their date, but he knew that she’d only scraped the surface. There was so much more lurking just beneath the stiff outer shell that Thiessen brandished like a shield. It’d shone through in his eyes—and in his snark once he’d finally relaxed.

Jory grinned. He loved the bite of his humor and the quick rise of his temper. So touchy. Thiessen might’ve been flighty and mercurial, but there was definitely a promise of something much sweeter hidden away. He was like a forbidden fruit, luscious and beguiling, and Jory was tempted to take a bite.

He’d played his hand. He’d given Thiessen his number. If the man was interested, he’d text and if he wasn’t? Then tonight would serve as a wake-up call. It was time to start seriously looking for someone to share his life with. Someone he could forge a future with. A lover, a partner, a husband.

He sighed at the thought. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?

Before he ever stepped foot outside of his car, he could hear Felicity howling her heart out from the house. Her high-pitched woos petered lower and lower before spiking back up again. Awoo. Awooooooo. Kit had warned him that she was the talker of the litter, but one look into those big amber eyes and Jory was a sucker. Hook, line and sinker.

It was meant to be. He didn’t mind her noise, though the neighbors might not appreciate it much.

Chuckling, he killed the engine and squished his way across the muddy driveway before stomping his boots off on the front step. Felicity barked a warning and scratched at the door, but the moment he stuck the key in the lock, she was bouncing and yipping her joy.

Yay! Dad’s home!

“How’s my babygirl?” he cooed as he bent down to greet her. Her entire body vibrated with excitement and she doused his face with soggy puppy kisses, her gingery fur flying through the air in small tufts. He scrubbed both hands up and down her sides and she began to yowl her feelings in a husky’s song.

“Hold on, hold on.” Jory made a quick pitstop in his bedroom to change out of his slacks and dress shirt. He tugged on a pair of athletic track pants and a tank top, putting a hoodie on over the top of that. He swapped leather shoes for running sneakers, then grabbed Felicity’s reflective leash off his dresser. “Let’s go. Walkies!”

She screamed in delight. His ears rang. He clipped the leash to her collar and she all but dragged him out the front door. He didn’t bother locking it behind him; they wouldn’t be gone long. The fog swirled around his feet as he struck off at a quick walk to warm up. Felicity pranced at his side, her tail swishing back and forth. She was ready to get this show on the road.

Jory laughed out loud, then tugged on her leash and broke into a jog.

He knew he wanted an energetic breed when he finally decided to adopt a dog, but he was thinking more along the lines of something a little more trainable. A golden retriever or the tried and true black Lab, or even a spaniel. He’d grown up with a sister-brother pair of Brittanys and they’d been excitable and eager to please, if not a bit stubborn.

But a Siberian husky? Stubborn was Felicity’s middle name.

When his cousin announced that he wanted to get into breeding them, Jory had laughed—right up until he stopped by for a visit to see five fuzzy balls of fluff wrestling and playing in the middle of Kit’s kitchen. The runt of the litter was a leggy ginger-colored female with impossibly wide eyes, running around the room yapping at the top of her lungs.

It was love at first sight.

She loped along at his side as his shoes struck the chip-and-seal asphalt of the country road. The only light they had to guide them was the dim flash of the blinker on Felicity’s collar, splashing cherry red across the wet pavement every two seconds, but it was enough. They wouldn’t be out too long. The air still smelled of rain.

With every stride and every even breath, Jory could feel the nervous energy from his date ebbing away like a gentle tide. When he saw the county-line marker jutting up from the ground, he turned around and ran back towards home. Felicity panted right alongside him.

They’d no sooner hit the drive when his phone chimed with an incoming text. Thiessen? Excitement spiked in his veins—that was fast—but he chided himself. Down, boy. They climbed the steps and went inside. Jory kicked off his shoes on the welcome mat before bending down to wipe off Felicity’s dirty paws.

After he’d unclipped her leash, she made a beeline for the water bowl and a moment later, the sound of her tags clinking against the metal dish rattled through the kitchen. Jory shrugged out of his damp hoodie and flopped down on the couch before reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone.

The text was from Peri. He hated that he felt a pang of disappointment. What the hell? Since when did he pine over cute guys?

Soooo how did it go? He isn’t answering my texts, the jerk! Prob writing LOL

Jory chuckled. The girl was nothing if not determined, he’d give her that. He chewed on the side of his cheek for a moment before his big thumbs padded over the screen in a reply.

Went good, I think. He’s nice, seems fun. Nervous, though. Gave him my number, so we’ll see.

Instantly: OMGGGG THAT IS A GOOD SIGN. So are you planning the wedding lol, jkjk

It made him grin. Not quite yet. Patience is a virtue, sweetheart.

Felicity came over and smeared her wet muzzle across his leg, then laid her head atop his knee. His fingers brushed through her soft fur. She wagged her tail and his phone dinged again.

Damn right, you gotta have patience with someone like T. He drives a girl crazy some days. So you interested? ;D

Yes, his mind offered helpfully. In being friends, yes. In a second date? Perhaps. The balls in his court. Don’t harass him tho, he’ll text if he’s interested. He seems the kind of guy to freak out and need space.

You hit the nail on the head there, buddy LOL I love him to death but I swear sometimes it’s exhausting being his BFF.

I can imagine.

He didn’t used to be so high-strung. I mean, a little but eh, whatevs. Just be patient, my friend, and maybe you’ll get to see what I see in him. He’s a good guy. He’s just a lil bit pointy is all :P

Jory rolled his eyes. Pointy? Maybe a little bit, but only because he was skittish. He was like a hedgehog that curled into a ball every time something scared him. Actually, that analogy wasn’t half bad. Alright, gonna turn in. Will keep you posted, he texted back. He needed some time to sit here and unwind.

Gotcha! TTYL!

Shaking his head, he set the phone down on the table wedged between the couch and the old recliner he’d kept around since his college years. It’d been a Salvation Army special. It was old and stained and needed completely new upholstery thanks to Felicity’s teething phase, but he couldn’t quite work up the gumption to throw it out.

Seth had loved that stupid chair. He always said it was his throne.

Feeling his mood dip a little, he wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge door, which always got super cold. Sure enough, the first swig was like liquid ice. Delicious.

He poured Felicity a heaping scoop of kibble and she did a dance, begging for her meal. Her tail swished across the tile in a steady one-two beat. With a chuckle, Jory leaned down and kissed her atop the head. “Here you go, Fifi.” She licked his cheek and dove headfirst into her dinner.

From the living room, his phone chimed with another text. Jory snorted softly. That girl… But when he flopped back down on the couch to check it, it wasn’t Peri’s number that popped up. A jolt tingled through him.

Thiessen.

Hey. Thanks again for the date.

Jory quickly analyzed the text. Was this a simple courtesy “thanks but no thanks,” or did he text for a reason? Only one way to find out. Actually, thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve gone out and done something fun. Definitely the highlight of my night.

Crickets.

Not one to be deterred, Jory whistled for Felicity. She came barreling into the room and made a flying leap for the spot beside him, her usual doggy grin in place. “Come here, Fi,” he mumbled under his breath, looping an arm around her to drag her closer before he held his phone out in selfie-mode. “Cheese!”

By some stroke of dumb luck, Felicity looked at the camera at the exact time he pushed the button, resulting in a super cute pic. He wore a goofy grin, but wasn’t that true to real life? There was no need to hide who he was. If Thiessen didn’t like it, there were plenty of other fish in the sea.

He sent the pic.

Exactly seven minutes later—not that he was counting or anything—his phone buzzed again. Thiessen responded with a shadowy picture of him and a scruffy-looking tabby who didn’t look the least bit pleased to be getting a selfie taken. Jory laughed out loud. The poor cat looked about ready to bite Thiessen’s nose off.

Then another text came in. So. I thought about it. Maybe we can do something again sometime? As friends?

If his grin was dopey before, it had to be even dopier now because it stretched from ear to ear. He laughed out loud and squeezed Felicity in a tight hug. “Yes!” She barked right in his face, blowing his hair back with a whuff of hot breath, then zipped down the hall with a click of claws.

Definitely. I’d like that a lot.

And thus began their conversation.