Page 19 of Howling Mad (Romance Expected Dating Service #1)
She winks and glides away, humming what sounds suspiciously like “Here Comes the Bride.” Again.
I find Finley surrounded by name tags and table numbers, her hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head. She’s chewing on the end of a marker, her brow drawn in concentration as she studies a seating chart. She looks up as I enter, and the smile that lights her face sends my pulse racing.
“Surprise,” I say, holding up the lunch bag.
“My hero.” She jumps up, crossing the room to plant a quick kiss on my lips. “I’m starving.”
“So I’ve heard.” I set the food on the table. “Red mentioned something about you needing to replenish your energy?”
She groans, dropping her head to my shoulder. “She’s impossible. Five minutes after I arrived this morning, she looked me up and down and said, ‘Someone had a productive weekend.’ Then she spent the next hour telling me about red panda mating habits.”
I laugh, unable to help myself. “Sounds educational.”
“It was horrifying.” She opens the bag, inhaling appreciatively. “You got my favorite. With extra pickles?”
“Of course. I pay attention.”
“To think I wasted weeks trying to match you with other wolves.” She unwraps her sandwich with gleeful anticipation. “All that time you could have been bringing me lunch.”
We settle at the table, clearing a space among the speed-dating materials. Finley devours her sandwich with the single-minded focus of a wolf who hasn’t eaten in days.
“So,” she says between bites, “not that I’m complaining, but shouldn’t you be at work creating market forecast...things?”
“Market forecast things,” I repeat, amused. “Very technical term.”
“I’m a matchmaker, not a financial analyst.” She steals one of my chips. “Stop dodging the question.”
“Everyone gets a lunch break.”
We finish lunch, talking about everything and nothing. For the first time in years, I feel my wolf and human sides are in perfect harmony. No pretense, no forced pack behaviors, and no hiding my true nature.
“I was thinking,” she says hesitantly, gathering our lunch wrappers. “There’s a preserve just outside the city that allows shifters to run on full moons. It’s completely private and secure. The moon will be full this weekend and...maybe we could go? Together?”
The question isn’t as casual as she tries to make it sound. Wolves don’t invite just anyone to run with them during the full moon. It’s a commitment, an acknowledgment of something deeper forming between us. We’re both still wolf enough to appreciate that. “I’d love it,” I say simply.
Before she can respond, the door swings open, and Red breezes in, carrying what appears to be my former client file.
“Don’t mind me,” she says, though she’s clearly interrupting on purpose. “Just need to update our records.”
With exaggerated ceremony, she produces a large red stamp and brings it down on the folder with surprising force. The word “MATCHED” appears in bold crimson letters across my file.
“There.” She beams, holding up the stamped folder like a trophy.
“Another success for Romance Expected. I’ll need you both to sign the official documents, of course, and we’ll want a photo for the wall.
” She glances between us, her eyes gleaming.
“Unless you’d prefer a more...intimate portrait?
Full moon photography is all the rage among newly matched pairs. ”
“Red!” Finley exclaims, clearly mortified.
“What? I’m merely suggesting professional documentation of a successful business outcome.” She blinks innocently. “Though if you happen to be in matching sweaters, or perhaps shifting under the moonlight, who am I to stifle artistic expression?”
“Thank you for updating the file,” I say diplomatically, fighting a smile.
“Of course.” She tucks the folder under her arm. “I’ll leave you to your consultation.” She backs out of the room, waggling her eyebrows so vigorously I worry they might detach.
When the door closes, Finley and I look at each other for a beat before dissolving into laughter.
“I’m so sorry.” She gasps between giggles. “She’s been like this all morning.”
“I don’t mind.” I pull her onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Though I draw the line at matching sweaters.”
“Spoilsport.” She plays with the hair at the nape of my neck, sending pleasant shivers down my spine. “What about the moonlight shifting photos?”
“That’s negotiable.” I kiss the sensitive spot just below her ear. “Especially if you’re there.”
She sighs, melting against me. “I’m beginning to think Red was right all along.”
“About what?”
“About you being my perfect match. Against all odds.”
“Not against the odds,” I correct her gently. “Just against expectations. Theirs and ours, but my wolf knew from the start. That’s why none of those dates worked.”
“Because you were waiting for me,” she whispers.
“And you were waiting for me.” I claim her lips in a kiss that feels like the beginning of something extraordinary.
Outside the window, the midday sun shines on a city that suddenly seems fuller of possibility than ever before. For the first time in my life, I’m not torn between two worlds. With Finley, I can simply be myself—wolf, human, financial analyst, and mate—in a harmony I never imagined possible.
Some investments, it turns out, pay dividends far beyond what the market can measure.