Page 22 of Wrong Number, Right Cougar

“No, I just… Why didn’t you do that—mate me, I mean?” His voice cracked, so full of emotion.

“Gods, trust me, I wanted to. But you… you needed to make the choice, too.”

“Yeah. That’s fair. We can leave here. Go do it now.” He grabbed my hand again, my cougar ready to push forward and mark him right here.

I shook my head slightly, and he pulled his hand back.

“It’s because I’m human.”

“Oh gods, no. It’s because—well, you don’t live here. And once we mate, being away from you… I don’t think I could handle that.” Why wasn’t there a handbook about this? I kept making things go from bad to worse.

“Who said I have to go back to the city?”

“It’s your job. And your home. And your life. You—” I thought it was a given.

“I can find another job. But I already feel it, deep inside, that this is my home. And my life. And besides, I don’t even need to interview to get a new job.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… if I stay here, we could reopen the resort. You and me. Together.”

Together. I loved the sound of that.

“Would you want that life? Working with me by your side every day?” He had a career, and it wasn’t shifter hospitality in the middle of practically nowhere.

“More than anything.”

I felt exactly the same. “Then I will ask you to be my mate—officially—after our date. You need time to think about it. No rushing in.”

He groaned, but there was a sparkle in his eye. He liked the sound of that. I did too.

We enjoyed our dinner, but when the restaurant closed, it was time to go home. I wasn’t ready to leave my mate– for our night to be over.

“Thank you, for an amazing evening.”

“I hope it’s not over yet.” I leaned in and gave him a kiss on his cheek and whispered in his ear, “There’s something else I’d like to do together.”

13

THORN

“There’s something else I’d like to do together.”

I paused when Wilder lowered his voice, straining to catch what he was saying.

I choked back a garbled question before eventually forming a sentence. “What’s that?” My voice was barely above a whisper as images of us climbing the mountains, parachuting, or perhaps something as mundane as washing dishes filled my head.

He outstretched an arm, grabbing my sweater and yanking me close. I slammed onto him, his arousal pressing on my hip. His warm breath billowed over my cheek, and he nuzzled my jaw before placing his lips on my ear.

“I’d like you to be my mate.”

I gulped. This was big. I knew it was coming—we’d already talked about it, but that didn’t change the impact of this moment. His engorged cock was enormous, but us mating was a ginormous deal. Wilder was talking about forever. I had no doubt that I wanted this shifter in my life, at my side, in the decades to come. But he was a shifter and I was human.

It hadn’t made much of a difference up until now. We laughed at the same jokes, teased one another, and ate the same food. Part A slotted into Part B just fine. But how would our shifter and human lives mesh if we marked one another?

“I know what you’re going to say.” Wilder’s eyes clouded, and he bit his bottom lip.

Oh no. No, no. Was he doubting my willingness to mate?

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