Roman
"I’m here to see Everleigh," he said to the receptionist. "I have a 2:00 appointment."
He fidgeted in his starched plaid shirt and his brand-new jeans. His sister had made him buy the clothes before he left. "You need to take this seriously," she’d said.
He tugged at the collar. He wasn’t used to wearing shirts at all. He hardly ever wore them at home.
"I am taking it seriously," he said. "I’m driving down to Anchorage."
"You also have to look presentable."
"Money talks, right? Isn’t that what humans want?" he asked with a sneer.
His sister whacked him. "Don’t give me that attitude. Yes, but they also care about appearances. And we’re all moving there. We’re going to be part of the community. You have to make a good impression and not come across as an eccentric weirdo."
"See? You’ve proven my point."
His sister rolled her eyes. "We need this," she said. Her eyes went soft. "It will be good for us. All of us, including you."
He doubted that, but he was tired of arguing about it.
So he’d taken the pack’s giant SUV and driven south.
"Right this way," the receptionist said. The receptionist was human, and so were the other employees in the building.
He was aware of only one shifter.
The moment he saw her it set an electric jolt right through his body.
He knew she was a shifter, but he wasn’t prepared for this visceral reaction. He made a note to kick Sutton’s ass for not bothering to tell him how hot she was.
He was in the middle of a damned real estate office, and she was all he could think about. Everything else faded from his mind: the pack, their insistence on moving to Anchorage, the resentment he felt toward the younger members for not respecting tradition. At that moment, none of it mattered. He could only think about her.
She wore a pair of black dress pants, black boots with a heel, and a plain white sweater that stretched over her pert breasts. She had hair that was so light it was almost silvery, with dark eyes and pink cheeks. Her lips were full, and her nose was straight. She was short and petite but carried herself like she had a much larger frame.
But what she looked like almost didn’t matter.
He was drawn to her dynamic energy and her enticing scent.
Christ. What was happening to him? He’d always heard that was what happened to a mate. But that wasn’t possible. His cock was hard. He was flushed.
You are twenty-eight years old. Get a grip! You can’t fall apart because of one hot female.
His wolf clawed at him. He wanted to scent her.
Oh hell no.
She was a bear. Not a wolf.
Was that why she smelled so good? No. He’d been around plenty of bear shifters before. He rubbed his forehead, trying to clear his muddled thoughts. There was no way they could even date, much less mate. Just the thought was insane. Besides, this feeling was just extreme attraction, that was all.
She seemed oblivious, thank God. At least he’d realized he was turned on before he humiliated himself by drooling all over her.