Hope stood in front of her mirror and nervously smoothed down the front of her dress. The blue paisley pattern set off her eyes and her honey-blonde hair, and the deep v-neck showed her cleavage to advantage. She hoped the wide belt helped conceal the fact that her waist wasn’t as small as she wished it was. She’d spent an hour pulling items out of her closet and tossing them on the bed as she rejected them. She wanted to look like a desirable woman, not a desperate manhunter.

She struggled with the clasp on her lucky sapphire necklace, one of the few items of her mother’s that she had. Maybe, if this date went well, she’d have someone around to help her put on necklaces, zip up her dress, and reach things on high shelves. And make her bed a lot less lonely.

She double-checked her small evening purse, making sure it held her phone. Finally, she gave her dress one last tug and hoped she was ready for this. Kathy had promised to stand by in case the guy turned out to be weird or aggressive. And what if, as Kathy had suggested, he was a shifter?

He won’t be. The agency would have told me if he was.

But what if he is? The guy she was about to meet could also be a bear, or a lion, or something she hadn’t even thought of.  The idea wouldn’t leave her alone. She shook her head, shoved it to the back of her mind, and grabbed her keys.

Hope had agreed to meet him...Joshua...at the restaurant in his hotel, but she hoped he didn’t read anything into that. The hotel was only a short drive away, which meant she didn’t have to spend too much time fighting traffic. She pulled up in front of the hotel and gave the valet her car keys.

The hostess at the hotel restaurant greeted her with a smile. “Table for how many?”

“I’m meeting someone,” she told the hostess. “I don’t know if he’s here yet—”

At the bar behind the hostess stand, she saw a man who looked a bit like the fuzzy picture the agency had sent her. He looked curiously in her direction, and when their eyes met, he rose from his seat and smiled at her. “Hope? Joshua Farris. Call me Josh.”

She nodded her thanks to the hostess and stepped over to the bar. “Hi. I’m Hope Callahan.” And you are incredibly attractive, her brain supplied. His light blue shirt set off his tanned skin, and his brown hair had a hint of gold in it, matching the light in his warm brown eyes. His profile listed his height as 6’1”, but he seemed even taller to Hope, his long legs encased in slim black pants that matched his jacket.

And those legs—they were worth looking at too. Even through the dress pants, she could tell that underneath was solid muscle. Hope wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen someone this gorgeous outside of the movies.

“Sorry I didn’t recognize you at first,” she continued. “Your picture didn’t do you justice.” There. That sounded adult, not at all like her pulse was racing and her hands were sweaty.

“You’re just as beautiful as your picture,” he said. God, his voice was low and quiet, but just the sound of it set up an insistent thrum between her legs. What was wrong with her? She’d never reacted to a guy like this. He was way too hot to even look at her, let alone date her. Why in the world did a guy like this need a matchmaker?

“Are you a shifter?” she blurted.

The pleasant, slightly nervous look fell from his face. “Uh, yeah.  The agency didn’t tell you?”

“No,” she said. “I guess they left that out.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“No,” she said again, not entirely certain.

He took a deep breath and fiddled with his shirt cuffs. “Look, why don’t we just spend some time getting to know each other? Then maybe you’ll have a better idea.”

“Yeah,” she said, her uncertainty warring with the flat-out lust dancing around in her stomach. “Let’s do that.”

***

Josh gestured for Hope to lead the way to their table, mentally cursing whoever at Single & Serious had left that important fact out of his file. This date might be doomed before it even started, and that would be a real shame, because he hadn’t ever seen anything as delectable as Hope. Several inches shorter than he was, what she lacked in height she made up for in curves. Lush, full breasts that sloped into the shadow of her cleavage. Round hips, incredibly kissable lips that begged to be nibbled and sucked—there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for a chance to touch some of that creamy skin.

He pulled her chair out for her and got a tentative smile in return. “Did you want some wine?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” she laughed. “Maybe it’ll relax us both.”

“White or red?”

“How about a nice Chardonnay?”

“Sounds good.” He ordered a bottle when the waiter came by and then spent some time looking at the menu. Say something, he thought frantically. “So you’re a writer?”

“Yeah,” she said, looking at him briefly but then returning her gaze to her menu. “Magazine articles, mostly. I’ve got a couple of regular gigs writing for airline magazines, so sometimes I get to travel to some really great places. I got back from Barcelona a few weeks ago.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing.” He tore his attention away from the sight of her beautiful fingers toying with the stem of her wine glass.

“Have you ever been to Europe?”

“No. I don’t do very well with long plane trips. I need room to move.”

“Oh,” she said. “Because of your...”

He let the silence draw out for a second before rescuing her. “I’m a horse shifter. Most of my family is too. We need room to run. It’s why we have the ranch.”

“That sounds—”

“Weird?”

“No,” she said, finally raising her head to meet his gaze with those beautiful blue eyes. “It sounds lovely.”

He breathed a little easier after that. When the waiter returned, he ordered butternut squash soup and a pork chop with grilled asparagus. Hope frowned a bit over her menu, then ordered a grilled chicken breast and a Caesar salad. When he said, “No appetizer?” she shook her head.

“Good,” he said encouragingly. “Leave room for dessert.”

She frowned again, but tried to smooth out her expression.  “Oh, I’ll probably skip dessert, but you should feel free.”

He waited until the waiter took their menus and left. It didn’t take a genius to know that someone in Hope’s past had given her crap about what she ate. Probably more than one someone.

“Listen.” He reached across the table for her hand. “I don’t know if this will turn into anything, or if we’ll shake hands at the end of this and never see each other again. But you never have to worry about what you eat around me.”

Her mouth quirked in a rueful, one-sided smile. “Am I that obvious?”

He shrugged. “Lots of guys are idiots. Lots of women are too. But anyone who can’t see how incredibly gorgeous you are doesn’t deserve to be around you.”

She blushed, staining her beautiful cheeks with red, and Josh finally acknowledged to himself what he’d been feeling since he saw her walk in the bar. He wanted her. Physically, sure, but more than that. He’d spent his life wondering what it would be like when he found his mate, and now he knew. It was a pull, a certainty, a voice deep inside him that said She’s the one. Make her yours forever.

***

Okay, Hope thought, mentally relaxing. I think this is going well.

Their soup and salad arrived, and they made small talk, exchanging stories about their upbringings. He told her about his parents’ accident when he was just eight, leaving him in the custody of his numerous aunts and uncles.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That must have been hard.”

“It was, of course, but I always had my family.” He smiled, and the affection on his face made her heart thump in her chest. “It’s hard to explain unless you grow up in that kind of environment. They’re loud and opinionated, and they drive me nuts, but any one of them would do anything for me.”

Hope sighed, remembering her own childhood. “You’re right, I do find it hard to imagine. My dad passed away when I was in college, and my mother left us when I was thirteen.”

Josh set down his spoon with a clatter. “She just left?”

Hope shrugged. “I think she decided she wasn’t cut out to be a mother.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking her hand in his, as he had earlier. His thumb stroked across her knuckles. He probably intended to comfort her, but Hope felt anything but comforted. The longer he touched, the more she got hot and bothered. Without even meaning to, she found herself wondering how those long fingers of his would feel on her face, or her breasts, or, oh God, inside her.

She cleared her throat and pulled her hand away, just in time for the waiter to bring their entrees. Josh stared at her for a moment, and she could only hope he hadn’t guessed the direction of her thoughts. What was wrong with her? They’d only just met, and she was fantasizing about having sex with him.

After the waiter left, Hope concentrated on cutting up her chicken, and not on looking at Josh like he was her next meal. Her knife and fork clanked on the plate while she tried desperately to organize her thoughts. Ask him something. Something safe. Something about his family, his ranch, his favorite color. Anything.

Before she could think of a good topic, Josh beat her to it.

“What else do you write besides travel articles?” he asked.

“Oh, a little bit of everything,” she said. “After I graduated from college with my English degree, I spent a couple of years doing freelance work for some of the big financial companies in town.”

“Sounds exciting,” he said wryly.

“It wasn’t that bad, actually. I got to work on all kinds of different things—annual reports, blog posts, some community outreach stuff. It helped me learn versatility.”

“Here,” he said, cutting a piece of his pork chop and offering her his fork. “Do you want to try a bite of this?”

“Thanks.” His fingers brushed hers softly as she took the fork from him. The meat was tender and had a subtle, smoky flavor. “That’s really good.”

From the look on Josh’s face, he wouldn’t mind a taste of her either. Unless that was just wishful thinking, projecting her feelings on him. Maybe if she flirted a little bit, he’d flirt back, and she’d know for sure.

If only she had any idea how to actually flirt.

“Do you mind if I ask you why you signed up with Single and Serious? Or is that too personal for a first date?”

“Not at all,” he answered. “The town I live in is pretty small, and I realized about a year ago that I’d never find my mate there.”

Mate? Hope thought. Like soul mate? I guess that’s one way to say it. Maybe a little old-fashioned. Or a little...agricultural. He does live on a ranch, after all.

“Worked your way through all of the local girls?” she teased. Maybe teasing was close enough to flirting.

“You know it. Broke their hearts and then walked away into the sunset.”

God, the sight of his smile set off fireworks inside of her. It had to be unfair for a man to be that attractive.

He took a sip of his wine “All joking aside, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. And I was ready for it to happen. So I had to figure out a way to meet other women, and this seemed like a better idea than putting up a billboard on the highway.”

“My reasons are pretty similar,” she said. “Except I had to date half the guys in Chicago to realize that I wasn’t finding Mr. Right.”

“Well, whatever brought us here, I’m glad we got matched.”

Oh, no, Hope thought. He’s smiling again.

The smile transformed his face. Without it, he was handsome to the point of being unapproachable. When he smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkled, and that little bit of mischief drew her in. But no matter how much she was drawn to him, she needed to remember that they’d only just met. Just because she felt this incredible attraction, it didn’t take the place of actually getting to know him and figuring out if they were compatible long-term.

She contented herself with saying, “Me too.” He seemed to sense that she was pulling back a little, because he brought the conversation back to a more neutral subject.

“So what’s your favorite article that you’ve ever written?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s a hard choice.” She ran through a mental catalog of her work. “Maybe the one where I went to Iceland? Remember that crazy volcano that erupted a few years ago? Well, the name’s crazy, not the volcano. The volcano’s perfectly normal.”

“Just going about his business, sitting there, erupting every once in a while.” He grinned at her, his even white teeth flashing briefly, contrasting with his bronzed skin.

“Exactly,” she agreed, chuckling. “Though actually, it hadn’t erupted since sometime back in the nineteenth century. No one expected it to interfere with air travel like it did.”

“Was your article about that?”

“Some, but mostly it was a typical airline profile about where to go and what to see. The scenery is amazing, though. Glaciers and fjords, the Northern Lights, hot springs, waterfalls—” She caught herself before she listed every place she’d visited. “Well, it’s hard to talk about that part without sounding like a travel guide.”

“No, it sounds great. To visit places like that and really get to know them.”

“It’s definitely one of the best parts of my job,” she agreed. “You know I grew up on a ranch?”

“Yeah, I saw that in your profile.”

“I love being outdoors—like, really outdoors, wide open. It’s something I really miss when I’m in a city for a while.”

“That’s definitely something we have in common.”

“Hey,” she said, cutting up the last few pieces of her chicken, “we’ve spent all of this time talking about me. I want to hear about you. Tell me about your ranch.”

He leaned back against the padded chair. “Well, we’ve mostly got cattle, and some sheep. Most everyone in the family helps out, though a couple of people have jobs in town, and the kids have school, of course. Half of the time it seems like complete chaos, but we get by.”

“I figured you had cows, but sheep too? Do you raise them for meat? Wool?”

“Right now, it’s just wool, though I’d like to build up the flock enough that we can sell some sheep’s milk too. There are some dairies up in Idaho that are producing sheep’s milk cheese, so the market’s growing.”

“Interesting,” Hope said, and she meant it. It was something that had served her well in her career—it was easier to write about a subject if you could get genuinely interested in it. “How long has your family owned your ranch?”

“It’s almost a hundred years now.”

“Wow!” she exclaimed.

“My great-grandfather came back from fighting in World War I and decided he wanted to own some land. The area was moving away from ranching and more into oil production, and he got a good deal on the land. The rest is family history.” He laid his utensils on the plate and pushed it slightly away from him. Somewhat to her surprise, Hope noticed that she’d also cleaned her plate.

“You keep saying your family’s big, but how big is it?” she asked.

He laughed. “My dad was the oldest of nine kids, and six of my aunts and uncles live on the ranch, along with their husbands, wives, and kids. I’ve got about twenty first cousins. I could count them all up, but we’d be here a while.”

“That is a lot,” Hope said. “To be honest, a family like that is as unfamiliar to me as you being a shifter.”

“If you come to the ranch, I can show you both of them first-hand.”

“Maybe,” she agreed.

***

“Were you interested in dessert?” The waiter proffered two small menus, and they each took one. Josh scanned the list: creme brulee, cheesecake, lemon meringue pie, a trio of gelatos...

“Everything looks amazing,” he commented to Hope.

“It does,” she agreed. That same frown—the one she’d had when deciding what to order—crinkled her forehead. He never wanted to see that expression on her face again.

“Hey,” he said, aware of the waiter’s presence. “Do you want to split the chocolate cake?” He tried to project his caring and support through the words, so that she remembered he would never judge her. And maybe it worked, because her frown smoothed out, and she smiled at him.

“Sure, that would be great.”

When the waiter had gathered the menus and left, Hope said, “I told you about my favorite article, but do you want to hear about my least favorite?”

“Of course!”

“One time, I got an assignment to fly to Detroit and interview this up-and-coming musician. Very avant garde. Think Ozzy Osbourne meets Nine Inch Nails meets Marvin Gaye.”

“I didn’t see that last part coming.”

“No one ever did. His career didn’t last very long. Anyway, my flight to Detroit was a disaster, one of those ones where everything goes wrong, and it was super-late. If I’d known, I would have just driven, but I kept hoping it would work out. Also, it was January, and of course it was snowing.

“By the time I finally got to Detroit, I’d already pushed the interview time back twice. I grabbed a cab and made it to the café about fifteen minutes late, but there was no sign of the guy. I texted him, nothing. I texted his manager, nothing. I texted him again. By this point, I was starving. The café didn’t have much of a menu, but I ordered a burger and fries and decided that if he wasn’t there by the time I’d finished eating, I’d give up and try to catch my flight home.”

“I’m trying to figure out where this is going,” Josh said, “but I’m not having much luck. It can’t just be that he ditched you and you didn’t get the interview.”

“Oh, just wait,” she said, waving a teasing finger at him. “I made it about halfway through my burger, and the guy walked in. Remember that it was a Michigan winter. He had on ripped jeans, a mesh shirt, a hot pink women’s blazer, and army boots. Nothing else.”

Josh tried to picture that, but the resulting mental image was almost too ridiculous to believe.

“He stomped over to my table, grabbed a handful of my fries—without asking—and said ‘There’s an emergency outside. I need your help.’ But he didn’t sound panicked or worried, just spoke in a flat monotone as he ate my french fries. I thought maybe there was a car accident, or someone having a heart attack outside. The barista had disappeared into the back somewhere, so I grabbed my phone and followed him outside. And when I got outside—”

“Yeah?” Josh found himself leaning forward in anticipation, one hand clenching the chair arm. “The suspense is killing me.”

“He said ‘I have to go smoke,’ and then he handed me the leashes attached to his two Pomeranians, Widget and Gidget.”

“Wow,” Josh said, sitting back. “Widget and Gidget. Didn’t see that coming either.”

“After five minutes, I gave up waiting outside and brought them into the cafe. Good thing the barista was a dog lover.”

“Is there any chance you’re making some of this up?” he asked suspiciously.

She placed her hand over her heart. “I swear, it happened just like that. Scout’s honor.”

The flourless chocolate cake arrived, along with two forks. As they each took a bite, Josh tried not to let on how arousing he found it, watching her lips close around the fork and her pink tongue chase after the stray bits of chocolate. He’d never felt such a connection with another person so quickly, and not just physically. She was smart, funny, and genuine. Now he just had to hope that she felt the same way.

She definitely felt the physical connection; he was sure of that. A few times during dinner, he’d caught her gaze and watched her flush. And when he’d refilled her wine glass and their fingers brushed together, he could have sworn she felt the same spark he did.

The delectable cake disappeared quickly, and the check arrived promptly after that. After he paid it, he stood and moved behind her chair to pull it out for her.

“Thanks,” she said as she arose.

They stood there together for a second, separated only by a few inches, and his awareness of her was almost driving him crazy. As he escorted her out of the restaurant and into the hotel’s lobby, he searched for a way to prolong the evening. He was irrationally afraid that if he let her out of his sight, she’d vanish into the night and he’d never see her again.

“Do you feel like going for a walk?” He gestured at hotel’s sliding doors and the sunset staining the sky. “We’ve got some time before it gets dark.”

“That would be nice.”

As they stepped outside, he reached for her hand. Her fingers fumbled with his for a minute, then threaded through to clasp them. He let his thumb caress the soft skin of her palm as they ambled down the sidewalk, past the stores lining the streets. The stores were a combination of tourist traps selling cheap souvenirs and quirky shops that featured everything from perfume to jewelry to books. Many were closed for the night, but an open door caught his attention.

“Do you mind if we go into that toy store?”

“Of course,” Hope said. “Are you planning to bring stuff home for your nieces and nephews?”

“Cousins,” Josh corrected. “Even the youngest ones are cousins. If I can find something small enough to get for everybody. It’s all got to fit in my suitcase.”

The shelves were overcrowded with games, stuffed animals, and t-shirts, with a toy train running on an elevated track that circled the length of the store. The noise in the store was almost overwhelming, as the train whistle blew and other electronic toys bleeped and zoomed.

“How about this?” He turned to find Hope holding up a bucket of something labeled “Super Glitter Slime—Glows in the Dark” with the helpful note “Extra Sticky!”

“Funny, but only until I have to help clean it up.”

She chuckled as she put it back on the shelf.

Josh moved through the aisles and collected an assortment of small items—postcards, pencils with slogans printed on them, a few keychains, and some refrigerator magnets—then turned to look for Hope.

She was at one of the front windows, head cocked, looking up at something in the display. He stepped over to her side and joined her.

“Find something you’re interested in?”

“Oh, I was just looking at the kite,” she said. She pointed to a kite hanging in a corner of the window, brilliantly painted to look like a monarch butterfly.

“That’s nice,” he said. “When you live in the Windy City, you must see a lot of them.”

“Actually it—it reminds me of when I was a kid. I used to fly kites with my dad. Not all the time, of course, but every once in a while. Until he...until my mom left.”

Her tone was a little distant, a clear sign that this was a subject she didn’t want to discuss any further. Losing his parents at a young age had been traumatic, but at least he’d grown up secure in their love and in the love of his relatives. It sounded like Hope’s upbringing had been a lot more complicated.

“My cousin Ava loves anything that flies, including kites,” he said, steering the conversation away from dangerous ground. “Her birthday is next month, actually. I think I can sneak one last thing into my suitcase.”

Packages of the butterfly kite were hanging next to the window display. Josh grabbed one and brought the basket up to the counter to pay. He handed the clerk his credit card and thought about what Hope had said. Her mother had been the one who left, but it sounded like she’d had some problems with her father too.

The clerk handed back his card and gave him the bag of souvenirs, and he stepped over by Hope’s side.

“All done?” she asked.

He held up the plastic bag in response and gestured her toward the door. The sun had almost completely set, and the air was getting chilly. After a few steps, he paused and shrugged off his jacket.

“Here,” he said, draping it around Hope’s shoulders.

“Thanks.”

This time, she reached for his hand. Her touch felt like a tug on his heart. He was trying not to let himself move too fast, but each minute he spent with this woman made him more and more sure that they belonged together.

This was one of the problems of dating outside shifter communities. No matter how much a non-shifter knew about them, some things just weren’t quite the same. He’d seen it happen before, where someone got scared off by the idea of a destined mate.

But so far, he hadn’t seen any sign of that with Hope.

“I got Ava a big fancy kite as a Christmas present a couple of years ago,” he said, picking up the conversation from inside the store. “Uncle Josh was her favorite for a while after that.”

“Is Uncle Josh the fun uncle?”

“Most of the time. It’s pretty easy to be fun when you’re not their parent. But I try and take responsibility too. It’s the same way I was raised.”

“To a kid who grew up alone, that sounds amazing and alarming at the same time. It would have been nice to have other kids around to play with. But I can’t imagine constantly being around that many people.”

“It’s a trade-off,” Josh agreed. “But relationships always are, in one way or another. And what you get out of it is usually worth it.”

“That’s a good point,” she said, squeezing his hand. As much as he wanted her, wanted to explore her body and worship her, at this moment he was content just to be with her, walking down a sidewalk at sunset with the breeze blowing around them.

All too soon, they were back at the hotel, walking through the sliding doors. Hope let go of his hand to maneuver around an overloaded luggage cart, and he instantly missed her touch. They reunited in the lobby after a harried-looking father, chasing after a toddler, wheeled the cart out of the way.

“Well, thanks for dinner,” Hope said. “I enjoyed it. I was a little nervous about being set up by a matchmaker, but—” She trailed off as Josh took her hand again.

“But it feels right,” he said softly. She nodded slowly, never taking her eyes from him.

He guided her to a little alcove off the main lobby, keeping their fingers threaded together. The noise of the restaurant and the lobby disappeared, and they entered their own private world.

“Hope,” he said, using his other hand to brush her blonde hair back from her face. “I was worried too. I want to get married and have a family, but still, I took a big step signing up with Single and Serious. It was a little embarrassing to think that I needed help finding a woman. But if I’d known that it would lead me to you, I wouldn’t have worried at all.”

He’d put his trust in destiny, and destiny had brought him Hope.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in closer. He took a breath, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume, and chased it to its source on the delicate skin behind her ear. As he nuzzled at that tempting spot, he heard a small moan escape her lips. The sound wiped every other thought from his mind—he had to have her.

She turned up her face to meet his kiss, which started out gentle as they tasted and tested each other. Her soft lips plucked at his, and for several long moments, they were content to learn what the other person liked. Their joined hands broke apart, and as Josh moved to grasp her hip, Hope’s arms slid around his neck. Her lips felt as amazing as he’d imagined. He traced them with his tongue, and when her mouth opened eagerly beneath his, their tongues met and tangled hotly.

He drew back, panting, aware of every place their bodies touched. “Hope, that was...God, I don’t know what to say.”

A smile bloomed on her face. “Amazing? Astonishing? Arousing?”

“Definitely all three of those.” To illustrate his point, he pulled her closer, flush against his hardness.

“Josh,” she murmured, so sweetly that he had to kiss her again. They lost themselves in each other until a large group of people entered the lobby and the noise pulled them back to reality.

“Hope,” he said hesitantly, “believe me when I say that I didn’t plan this, didn’t even dream that it could happen, but...would you come upstairs to my room? I want you so much, it’s making me crazy.”

She took a deep breath. “You’re right, it is crazy. We just met a few hours ago, and I’ve never even met a shifter before. There’s so much we should talk about.”

He forced himself to release his grasp on her hip and stepped back. “Of course.”

She stunned him, then, by reaching out to stroke him through his pants. “But talking is the last thing I want to do with you right now.”