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“My best friend. My wider friend circle, about a third of my work colleagues.”

Leslie’s mouth pursed around the straw of her water glass, but she stared at him rather than sipping. “That’s so weird.”

He shrugged. “Ditto. Do you actually socialize with wolves?”

“No. My best friend is human. And my coworkers, acquaintances—all human.”

He nodded. That made sense. Everyone knew wolves and vampires were natural enemies, or naturally aloof toward each other at the very least. But Leslie frowned at him.

“I don’t hang out with wolves, but Iamcivil to them, and they’re civil to me.”

“Huh.” Her frown was fast morphing to a glare, and he lifted his hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t have experience with this at all, and I didn’t know it was possible.”

“Why, because of ‘odor-sensitive’ vampires? That’s nonsense, Ryker. I’ve been surrounded by humans and wolves all my life. I don’t get to be ‘sensitive.’ It’s another form of prejudice if you ask me.”

Ryker sat back in the booth and draped his arms across it. Despite knowing a fair bit about her thanks to her test answers, Leslie Snow was unexpected. Challenging assumptions he’d held all his life, and he’d known her for less than two hours.

“What?” Leslie said.

“I’m willing to rethink the rest of it, but sensitive vampires do exist. I know one personally.”

Their food arrived, and Leslie dug into her diner-signature “messy burger” with the gusto of a starving human. Ryker’s venison steak was better than he’d anticipated, as were his baked potato and crispy brussels, but her ravenous ecstasy was next level.

“And I thought I loved to eat,” he said.

Her hands froze halfway to her mouth, and her eyes flared pure violet. “Should I apologize for enjoying my food?”

“Um, what?”

“Look, this might be my first date in a while, but you need to know now that I’m not going to stuff myself into a box for you. I enjoy food, and I enjoy a whole lot of simple things, and—”

Ryker raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I don’t know you well enough yet to tease you.”

The fire banked in her eyes, and she nodded. “Fair enough. I might be the slightest bit defensive thanks to the world at large assuming as a single thirty-year-old woman I must be abjectly miserable.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that too.”

“And just a reminder, I haven’t been waiting for my backup husband. I’ve been single by choice for a few years. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“I’m up to the challenge.”

“And so humble.”

He laughed, and she smiled, and he wanted to kiss her. He’d never felt attraction like this before—wanting to take her mouth with his, to talk to her into the next morning, to run his fingers through that abundant silver hair, to show her he was worth her time, to be there for her any way she wanted, any way she needed. It was a multi-faceted bloom of desire in his chest, new and stunning. He had to take care not to make a mistake. He’d shown up uninvited. Now he had to prove himself worth an invitation.

He said, “Will you tell me why you haven’t felt like dating?”

“It’s nothing dramatic,” Leslie said. “I’ve dated some, mostly in college. When I moved back to Harmony Ridge, I connected with a few guys via apps, since I don’t have local options. But I don’t know that it was always for healthy reasons, if that makes sense. I was trying out different relationships, desperate for one to last… When I look back now, I can see the breakups were for the best.”

“And…?”

She shrugged. “And nothing. I’m good now—busy, satisfied. I don’t want to go back to that striving feeling, you know?”

No, he didn’t. In fact he’d never had such a thought in his whole life. Who would he be if he ever stopped striving, achieving? He shook his head. What a puzzle she was. Or maybe she didn’t mean the word the way he did.

Leslie finished her burger with gusto equal to how she’d started it, then said, “Your turn. You said you quit dating two years ago.”

He shrugged. “I decided to wait for the best option. Simple.”