Chapter 6
Doug
“ L ooks good. Just a bit yellow.”
“Yeah?”
I swallow and breathe in, allowing her scent to fill my nostrils, intoxicating me.
“Yeah. You know, if you need lessons, I happen to be pretty handy with apps. I could teach you. For a price.”
“Oh, yeah?” I arch a brow. “What’s the going rate these days for tech support? Yard work? My eternal gratitude? The right to name my firstborn?”
She laughs, and I swear the whole damn room feels warmer.
“We can discuss terms, but I have to warn you,” she says. “I’m pretty easy.”
Don’t say it, Doug. Don’t say it!
“Darlin’, I sincerely doubt a single thing about you is easy,” I murmur before I can stop myself.
Her eyes go wide for half a second before she laughs even harder and swats me with a towel.
“Wow. You are as charming as advertised,” she teases, shaking her head as she walks away, hips swaying just enough to make my Wolf whine internally.
“Dude! She’s practically my sister-in-law,” Horace grumbles and tosses a wadded up napkin at me.
Okay. But that’s not her fault. I mean, she can’t choose her family or who her sister dates.
And well, the thing is, maybe I think she’s kind of adorable.
But nope.
It is still a very bad idea.
No way am I dragging a sweet thing like her into my mess.
I’m about to mentally double-down on that decision when Horace lets out a loud, rumbling snort from the other side of the room.
“Oh shit. Um, Doug?”
“What?” I grunt, already regretting whatever’s coming next.
He spins the phone toward me, Date to Mate app glowing cheerfully like it’s mocking me from another dimension.
“Congrats, man,” Horace drawls, tapping the screen.
“Looks like you’ve got your first match.”
I stare.
Blink.
Read the name on the profile.
Dina Coppola.
Oh, fuck me sideways.
My Wolf practically does backflips.
Horace wheezes out a laugh like he’s just found an abandoned jar of honey.
And me?
I just groan and drop my face into my hands.
Worst. Fate. Ever.
“No. Nope. Absolutely not.”
I’m mumbling into my hands like that’s going to erase the screen currently blaring my doom in neon pink.
99% Compatibility!
The app practically sparkles as if it’s proud of itself for ruining my life.
Horace is doubled over laughing, his big Bear shoulders shaking so hard he nearly spills his tea.
I try to follow suit, but the damn liquid gets stuck, and I choke. Literally.
Horace claps a hand on my back. Hard.
Probably harder than necessary.
“Breathe, Doug. It’s just a match. Not a mating ceremony.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve got your mate and your happily-ever-after. I’ve got hornets, hexes, and now this.”
I jab a finger at the screen like it just betrayed me.
Horace just keeps chuckling, the smug bastard.
Uncle Uzzi, who has magically reappeared with a plate of garlic knots like he’s watching the best sitcom of his immortal life, just winks at me.
“Fate works in mysterious ways, my boy,” Uzzi says, popping a knot into his mouth.
“Or in this case, extremely obvious ones.”
Before I can launch into another very reasonable and not at all panicked rant about how humans are not my type, and how I’m not mate material, Dina suddenly appears.
She places a bowl of marinara for dipping on the table along with two enormous platters with fries and cheesesteaks that smell so good, I fucking salivate.
She puts one in front of Horace. And the other? She sets it down right in front of me, hovering directly in front of my face, and I know I shouldn’t, but I breathe her in deeper this time.
Like my stupid ego wants to prove there must be some kind of mistake. Surely if the normal was mine, I would have scented it by now.
But then I remember the other time I met her, my nose had been busted up, and today I was stuffy as a result of fighting all that damn wasp venom.
But even though my body has a way to go to heal itself, I feel it.
That prickle .
That knowing sensation.
My Wolf senses going haywire.
“Is everything, alright?” she asks, her big blue eyes wide and guileless.
I shake my head slowly because no, nothing is alright.
And I force myself to lower my hands slowly—so I don’t do anything stupid.
Like grab onto her for dear life.
I close my eyes, but when I reopen them, Dina is still standing right there.
She looks confused. And so fucking cute. Her brows are lifted in pure, radiant curiosity.
Eyes sparkling like she’s already amused at my expense.
“So, what’s not alright? I’ll fix it if I can,” she says, and goddamn, but the way she looks, like sweetness and sin wrapped up in soft cotton, makes my brain short circuit.
Horace? Zero help.
He just grins wider and flashes the screen in her direction like a kid tattling at recess.
“What’s that?” she asks, cocking her head to the side so her pretty curls hover just out of reach.
“Oh, nothing,” he says, oozing fake innocence. “Just that Date to Mate thinks you’re this loser’s perfect match.”
Dina blinks.
Looks at the screen.
Looks at me.
Then?
She laughs.
Not a little giggle.
No, no.
Full-on, head-tipping, curl-bouncing laughter that hits me square in the ego and somehow makes me grin, anyway.
“Well,” she says after catching her breath, eyes twinkling with far too much delight, “looks like you’re stuck with me, Wolfman.”
I groan and scrub my face again. “It’s a glitch. Gotta be.”
“Wow. Rude,” she says, mock-pouting before smirking again. “Here I was, thinking you were into me after you practically undressed me with your eyes earlier.”
“I did not,” I protest, feeling my ears heat up.
Okay. Maybe I did. A little.
Wolves are visual creatures, alright?
“Mm hmm,” she hums, clearly not buying it.
She leans closer, eyes dancing with mischief.
This woman is different. I mean, my experience with dating humans is pretty much nil, but she isn’t playing coy.
Like not at all.
I mean, I know she knows about me. About us. Supernaturals.
Because of her sister and Horace. But still. I have to admit I’m surprised she isn’t running away, screaming bloody murder.
Not that I would.
Murder her or anything.
No, but we could eat her, My Wolf unhelpfully supplies.
“Admit it. You’re secretly thrilled. Fate picked me. I’m adorable. I make killer pizza. And,” she winks, “I promise I won’t hex you.”
“That is a point in your favor,” I deadpan, fighting the very inconvenient urge to smile.
She steps back, balancing the pizza on her hip, head tilted playfully.
“Well, don’t stress too much, Mr. Fluffles. We don’t have to rush. You know, I mean, unless you can’t help yourself. But that’s okay. I believe in second chances.”
“Nice. Real nice,” I mutter, but even I can hear the reluctant amusement in my voice.
She starts to walk away, but glances over her shoulder with a saucy grin that does dangerous things to my insides.
“Better brush up on your flirting skills, and maybe search for some fun date stuff,” she calls.
“Fun date stuff?”
“Yeah. Because if we’re 99% compatible, I expect witty banter with my hot fudge sundae.”
“Is that so?”
“That’s the minimum, Spike. Go on. Get googling.”
I stare after her, jaw slack, while Horace makes some extremely unnecessary kissy noises from behind me.
“What a darling girl,” Uncle Uzzi chimes in.
“A darling girl? Uncle Uzzi, she’s human. It won’t work.”
“Oh, son, I would not tell the Fates that,” he replies easily, kinda like he’s narrating my downfall.
“Face it. You’re doomed,” Horace the asshole adds.
I groan, slumping back in my chair and feeling like I’ve just been hit by a Mack truck.
This can’t be happening.
Except it is.
Because in the great cosmic game of life Doug the Lone Wolf? Yeah, he ain’t alone no more.
Apparently, I just got matched.
And judging by the way Dina’s still smiling at me from across the room?
I might be a lot of things, but deep down, even I know they’re all right.
I’m so, so screwed.