Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Uh, the latter? No. You’re wrong there. I’m no better at waiting for things than you are. On that note, stop eyeing the stocking, you’re not opening anything until tomorrow.”
He did occasionally eye it. She’d hung four on the fireplace—one for him, one for her, one for his cat, and one for hers.
He, of course, had piled small gifts into the stockings belonging to Quinley and her feline. She hadn’t asked for hints or peeks, content to wait until Christmas morning. But Isaiah and his cat were far more curious and impatient than their mate, so they both wanted to know what she’d bought them.
He swigged back some beer and complained, “You’re supposed to cater to my every whim.”
“Ha. You’re funny.”
He caught her earlobe with his teeth and tugged. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Her breath hitched. “No.”
Isaiah returned his bottle to the unit. “Or I could torture your agreement out of you.” Wicked fast, he slipped his hand—cool and damp from condensation—under her sweater and tickled her bare skin.
She let out a little squeal, squirming like crazy. “Don’t, your fingertips are cold!”
“I know.” He continued for a good five seconds before stopping.
“That was cruel.”
“It’s your own fault for not giving me my own way.”
“I’m curious, are you going to be like this every time there are occasions when I buy you gifts that you don’t immediately get to open?”
“Yep.”
So this was her life now. Rolling her eyes, Quinley leaned back against him. Watching movies was much more enjoyable when she had him virtually curved around her like this, making her feel all snug and cocooned, his scent the best kind of blanket.
A scent she now wore on her skin.
She loved that. Her cat preened each time she thought of it, smug as all shit that she had Isaiah for a mate. He was everything the animal would have wanted. Everything Quinley would have wanted. So it seemed nuts that her predestined mate didn’t have much in common with him.
But then … Zaire’s rejection had changed Quinley. She’d been just a teenager at the time. Barely grown, her identity not quite fully developed. Having her true mate turn his back on her, enduring years of bullshit rumors and having to watch him get closer and closer to Nazra, had all gone towards shaping Quinley into the woman she’d become.
So if those things hadn’t happened, maybe she would have grown into a different person. One who would click with Zaire well. A person who therefore wouldn’t click so well with Isaiah.
God bless FindYourMatch.com. Because without that site, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have found Isaiah.
And thank the high heavens that, of the women on his list, he’d chosen to reach out to Quinley. Because it seemed highly likely to her that any of the potential matches would have resulted in a claiming—he was just too easy to like, so any of the women would have agreed to sign a mating contract. Then again, she was totally biased.
As the movie credits came up, she said, “I’m so glad you’re smart.”
“What?”
“Well, you could only contact one of the females who FindYourMatch recommended. You picked me. That was smart. I’m an absolute winner.”
He chuckled. “You are, baby. You are. And you’re just as smart for agreeing to the meet without hesitation. I would have otherwise had to hound you.”
She snorted. “You would have just moved onto another female on your list.”
“I don’t think so. The messages we exchanged weren’t deep and meaningful. But the tone, the easiness, the kinship there … it all gripped me. And I think it gripped you, too.”
“You know something, you’re right.”
“You always sound so surprised by that. Eventually, you’ll get used to the fact that I’m never wrong.”
She let out a pfft. “I wouldn’t say never.”
“You should, because it’s true.” Keeping an arm tight around her waist, he stood, easily lifting her. “Need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
As he left the room, she put down her empty bag of chocolate drops and did a long, languid stretch … which was right when a double-knock sounded on the front door.
Oh, that had better not be Tina. Isaiah would freak. And much as it wasn’t easy for Quinley to ignore a person’s pain, he had been right in all he’d said.
“Check who it is before you open the door!” ordered Mr. Cranky from the half-bath.
Like she hadn’t already planned to do so. “Yes, sir!” She cautiously walked to the window. Relief worked through her. “It’s just Havana!” Smiling, she strode to the front door and opened it. “Hey, everything okay?”
Shuddering with the cold temperature, the Alpha replied, “As okay as everything can be when I’m doing all my wrapping at the last minute.” Havana bent to itch her knee, adding, “I won’t come in, I just wanted to ask if—”