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Chapter Eight
Ansel
I expected some awkwardness over the video call. Maybe a few pauses. What I didn’t expect was to see Monroe, the woman who now featured in all my daydreams and night fantasies, talking to us from her bed, in her nightgown.
My grizzly stirred.
“We didn’t wake you, did we?” I asked. The window in the frame of the video showed that it was night where she was. Once the match was accepted by her, we were able to see additional details, including where she lived. And even more pictures.
“No. I was settling in but hadn’t gone to sleep yet.” A rustle behind her had me curious. She moved to the side to show us a cat curled up on a pillow. “That’s Mavis.”
Edward chuckled. Of course she had a cat. We would probably have a hard time getting along with her pet, but we would deal. “Thank you for accepting the match. Do you have questions for us? We are both open books.”
“Your profile didn’t list your jobs. I want to make sure you’re not criminals or somehow morally gray.”
I’d lifted that phrase from a book I’d read a few weeks ago. I toggled between mysteries and science fiction but took a break once in a while and read some sultry romances.
“We are retired. We have been since we were in our early thirties. We have ownership in some companies, and that plus our investments gives us a comfortable life.”
She nodded. “That bathroom behind you is bigger than my entire apartment.”
We both looked over our shoulders and realized she was talking about a small washroom that was just off the main hallway. It was the smallest of all our bathrooms, and we hardly ever used it. “You live by yourself?” Edward tried to change the subject.
“Just me and Mavis and my books. Your profile says you both read? It’s not the articles in porn magazines, right?”
The sass coming out of this female’s mouth had us both laughing but also, my dick twitching. Something about a smart mouth that made me want to show her how that mouth could get us both into trouble. “No. We read books. We have a library in our home. Would you like to see it?”
She swallowed. I watched the motion of her lithe neck and could see her pulse beating underneath her smooth skin. “Not right now. Can I ask why you two are still unmated? That’s what shifters call it, right? Mated?”
Edward took this question. “Yes, and we have never been mated. Chosen or otherwise.”
Her face reddened. “I find that hard to believe.”
I realized exactly what Monroe was getting at. “We haven’t lived like monks, if that’s what you’re poking around at.”
“No poking yet, Ansel.” She cocked her head as though she couldn’t believe she spoke those words.
Gods above and below, the way she said my name had me wanting to cross the country and see what that nightgown looked like on her floor. “I don’t know what else to ask, honestly. The app does the background check and there was nothing criminal that came up. Do you have any questions for me?”
“I do,” I said. “Why is a beautiful woman like you on an app looking for a shifter mating?”
Her blush took me by surprise. She liked being called beautiful, but I was simply stating the obvious. She exhaled and began speaking. “I have a tendency to like older men. I tried dating men my age but most were immature, and the relationships always felt one-sided and like I was tugging someone along instead of having someone with me. My last boyfriend, well, I realized I was more attracted to his father than him.” She laughed. “But I can’t exactly hang a sign around my neck that reads younger girl seeks older man. That would solicit all kinds of things I have no interest in.”
“But why the app?” Edward pressed. He even leaned a bit more toward the camera. My best friend was hooked on Monroe, as I was.
“I don’t know. It felt safe. No one leering at me before they even knew my name. I got a chance to actually type out my likes and dislikes without having to prompt anyone into a conversation. I know you saw my picture right away, but you also saw me. Guys always look at girls like they are freshly grilled steak. Like we have nothing to offer except our bodies. We also live in a hookup culture and, while that might’ve been my thing years ago, it isn’t now.”
While she came off as confident, I caught a hint of something else beneath the surface. She joined an app to feel safe? That meant there was some part of her that didn’t feel safe, and I suspected it went beyond slobbering young men. Monroe sought the security of someone or two someones who loved her.
My bear sure as hell wanted to give her all that and more.
“I can’t even imagine what it must be like to date in this time and age,” Edward commented.
She nodded and some of her bravado faded. This female craved love and affection—a place to belong. I had no clue how I got all of that from this short video chat, but my bear somehow latched on to her feelings. “I don’t know what to do now,” she said, smiling after a long pause.
I did.
“Would you consider coming here, to our home, and spending some time with us? We can spend more time in chats or messaging, but we’d like to know you in person, if you feel comfortable. No pressure. It’s understandable if you are hesitant.”
