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“I was so set on finding my true mate that I kept any bed-buddy arrangements short and sweet and shallow. I only ever slept with females outside the pride, because I didn’t want my mate to feel uncomfortable when I brought her here. But then I realized she was taken. That was when I started dating pride members, thinking to mate with one, but it didn’t work out. I was never really much good at relationships.”
Quinley’s brow knitted. “That surprises me. I mean, I have no complaints about ours.”
Pleasure unfurled in his stomach. “It’s different with you. We’re mated. Before you, I held back from people. Found it too difficult to trust that another would be one-hundred percent loyal—a lot of people initially turned on me after Jenson’s death, and seeing Lucinda with another male felt like another betrayal. You could say I have trust issues.”
“I sensed that. I have the same issues, though. It’s not only about Zaire’s rejection or even how many of my old pride mates reacted to the rumors. It was how guys I’d later get involved with from outside the pride would eventually hear those rumors and not always fully believe my account of what happened. It got to a point where I held back, constantly braced for someone to walk away because of those lies. Some didn’t; they believed me. But those relationships just didn’t go anywhere.”
While he lamented that she’d been so unhappy, he couldn’t regret that those relationships had failed; not when she might otherwise have not been his to claim. “Did you mention the rumors on your questionnaire?”
“Only in the part where it asked, ‘What are things you hate?’ I put stuff like ‘toxic rumors,’ ‘injustices,’ and ‘when people don’t consider both sides of a story.’”
“I typed similar answers. I suppose it’s part of why we were paired.”
“The site sent me, like, seven suggestions.”
He felt his brows flick up. “Seven? They only sent me three.”
“Apparently, you’re harder to please or something.”
He smiled. “Want to know why I chose to contact you first?”
“I do, actually.”
“It was your eyes. I saw the shadows there. I have those same shadows. I wondered if maybe we had similar wounds.”
“Which we do. And it’s helped us, I think. I’ve never before talked to anyone who could really relate to all that happened in my life. Our situations aren’t the same, but they’re similar enough to count.”
They were. And yes, it had helped. Threads of kindship had formed almost immediately.
Just then, the waitress appeared with their food. He and Quinley talked more as they ate. Mostly about their pride mates, because she liked to hear stories about them, liked getting to know them through his eyes and memories.
Once they’d finished their meal, he bundled her up into her coat and pulled on his own. Hearing his cell ping, he checked it. “It’s my mom,” he told Quinley. “She somehow knows we’re here—my guess is one of her friends reported we’re on a date.” Andaya kept a close eye on anything Isaiah-related. “She’s asking if we’ll stop by on the way home.”
Quinley grinned. “So she can make sure I’m treating her baby boy right?”
“It’s you she’s worried about,” he said, pocketing his phone. “She’s not only a submissive mated to a dominant like you are, she entered an arranged mating just the same. She knows what comes with both situations.” He began guiding his mate toward the door. “I’ve been warned by her several times not to screw this up.”
“I like her. And your dad.”
“They like you.” The door opened just before they reached it, and a familiar couple waltzed inside. Isaiah nodded their way. “Valentina, James.”
James smiled and went to speak, but his mate beat him to it—as per usual.
“Ah, it is good to see you both,” Valentina declared, a hint of a Russian accent to her voice. “Quinley, I wanted to thank you for how much you have helped our Aurora. She was in terrible pain. My Alex and Bree were heartsore by it, and so exhausted.” She raised a hand, all imperious. “Do not tell me there is no need to thank you. There is. And I have done it.”
Quinley smiled fondly. “You really are supremely bossy.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” James muttered.
Ignoring that, Valentina cocked her head at Quinley. “I heard your cat terrorizes your neighbors.”
His mate pulled a face. “Would we call it terrorizing?”
Valentina blinked. “She stands on top of their fence and stares down at them, irritating their animals to extent that they shift to chase her off. Except it is as if she vanishes into thin air. They can never track her.”
Quinley shrugged. “She’s really just trying to make friends.”
“Bah. She does not want friends. She wants to make it known to those around her that she will not make easy prey. I approve.”
