Page 1 of Love, Clumsily (Fur Real Love #2)
There are certain moments in life that change everything. Pivotal, life-altering instances that redirect your entire existence. For some people, it’s a job offer or a chance encounter at a coffee shop.
For me, it was getting body-slammed by a six-foot-four mountain of muscle while eating pasta salad.
Let me back up. My name is Julian Parker, and one month ago, I escaped the soul-crushing monotony of city life and my even more soul-crushing ex, Daniel.
Three years of “maybe we should just stay in tonight” and “do we really need to try that new restaurant?” had finally driven me to pack my belongings, break my lease, and buy a small cabin on the outskirts of Pine Haven, population: small enough that everyone knew your business before you did.
I’d been in town exactly six days when it happened. I was sitting on a park bench, enjoying the spring sunshine and a homemade pasta salad (one of the five dishes in my limited culinary repertoire), when I heard a commotion to my right.
“Watch out—oh no—I can’t—”
Before I could process these fragmented warnings, a blur of motion filled my vision. Something massive collided with my body, sending my lunch flying and crushing me against the bench. The air whooshed from my lungs as I found myself pinned beneath what felt like a warm brick wall.
A brick wall that was… apologizing?
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—I tripped—the dog—are you okay?” The weight shifted, and I found myself staring up into the most extraordinary pair of eyes I’d ever seen. Amber with flecks of gold, framed by thick dark lashes and currently wide with mortification.
Holy hell, he’s gorgeous, was my first thought, followed immediately by, And he’s literally crushing me to death.
“Can’t… breathe…” I wheezed.
“Oops!” The beautiful giant scrambled off me, somehow managing to knee me in the thigh and elbow my shoulder in the process. Once vertical, I could see him properly, and… wow.
He stood at least six-four, with broad shoulders stretching his henley to its structural limits.
Dark hair fell across his forehead in an artful mess that suggested he either paid a fortune at a salon or genuinely had no idea how to use a comb.
His strong jaw was covered in precisely the right amount of stubble, and his mouth—currently twisted in an apologetic grimace—was full and perfectly shaped.
Did I just get flattened by an actual Greek god?
“I’m so, so sorry,” he said, his deep voice sending an inappropriate shiver down my spine.
“I was jogging, and this dog ran past, and I tried to avoid it, but I’ve got these stupid feet, and—” He gestured down to what were, indeed, enormous feet, currently clad in running shoes.
“—and now your lunch is everywhere, and I nearly killed you, and—”
I held up a hand, partly to stop his rambling and partly because I needed a moment to remember how words worked. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Just… surprised.”
He bent down to help gather the remains of my pasta salad, now decorating the grass around us. As he leaned forward, I caught his scent—something wild and earthy, like forest after rain, mixed with clean sweat. It was intoxicating in a way I couldn’t explain.
“I’m Mason,” he said, handing me my now-empty container. Our fingers brushed, and I swear I felt a literal spark. His eyes widened slightly, suggesting he’d felt it too.
“Julian,” I replied, my voice embarrassingly breathy.
Mason stood frozen for a moment, staring at me with an intensity that should have been uncomfortable but somehow wasn’t. Then, abruptly, he took a step back, nearly tripping over his own feet again.
“I should—I need to—” he stammered, backing away further. “I’m sorry about your lunch. I’ll make it up to you. I have to go.”
And then, with a grace that contradicted his earlier clumsiness, he turned and sprinted away, leaving me sitting on the bench surrounded by pasta debris and wondering what the hell had just happened.
I had no idea then that this bizarre encounter was just the beginning. That the gorgeous, awkward man who’d literally fallen into my lap would reappear in my life again and again. That there was something extraordinary about Mason Holloway—something wild and impossible and wonderful.
I had no idea I’d just met the love of my life.
Or that he wasn’t entirely human.