Catching Him (How to Catch an Alpha 1)

“Yeah, but I’m still going with you,” he says, walking to where I’m now giving Bruce a head rub. He takes my hand and leads me from his house, across our lawns, up my porch, to my front door. I let myself in, and he does the whole fingers-to-the-cheek thing I like a little too much before finally releasing his hold on me.

“I’ll be back to get you. We’ll take my truck.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” I start to close the door, but Bruce, who followed us, tries to shove his way in using his large head and bulk to press against the door.

“Bud, you don’t live here. Home,” Tyler orders, and with a long, annoyed huff, Bruce stops trying to push inside. I laugh, and Tyler shakes his head, giving me a small grin before he heads off my porch. I go to my bedroom and dial my mom as I strip off my clothes. It rings and goes to voice mail, so I call her again as I start up the shower.

“Are you okay?” she asks worriedly as soon as she answers.

“I’m fine. I’m calling to let you know I’m bringing someone to dinner with me.”

“Honey, you know Chrissie is always welcome. You don’t have to call to tell me she’s coming, especially not twice in a row. I thought something happened.”

“It’s not Chrissie. It’s a guy,” I announce, and there’s silence on the other end of the phone, so I continue. “His name is Tyler. He just moved here from Tennessee.” More silence. “Mom, are you still there?”

“I’m processing.”

I tip my head back to look at the ceiling. “There’s nothing to process; he’s just a friend.” A friend I want to kiss, but I’m not going to tell her that. “It’s not a big deal. He just moved in next door. He’s new in town and doesn’t know anyone. I thought it would be nice for him to have a home-cooked meal.”

That does it. When she speaks again, her voice is filled with understanding. “I’ll see you two when you get here, honey. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mom. See you then.” I hang up and drop my phone on the vanity before I get in the shower.

I shampoo and condition my hair and shave everything, even though I have no reason to. I put on a robe and blow out my hair, then put on some light makeup. Dressed in a pair of deep-brown boots, dark jeans, and a sweater, I go to the kitchen to feed Mouse, who I haven’t seen since this morning. As I’m dumping a can of wet food in his dish, he comes out of hiding.

“Are you still mad at me?” I pick him up and attempt to love on him as his claws come out and his tiny sharp teeth nip at my fingers. Eventually, he wins the battle and gets away from me. He lands on his feet and goes to his dish, sniffing his food to make sure it’s up to his standards before digging in. With time to kill, I call Chrissie to check on her since we haven’t spoken in a few days. We’ve been best friends for years. She owns a bakery in town, which means, just like me, she’s always busy working.

“I was just thinking about you,” she says as a greeting, and I smile while walking into my living room.

“I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.” I take a seat on the couch.

“I know, right?” She groans. “We are both way too busy. Because we’re old now, we need to plan a girls’ night where we can drink and pretend the next day we won’t be hungover.”

“I’m not old. You might be old, but I’m not.”

“We have the same birthday, so if I’m old, so are you.” She laughs. “Anyway, how are things going with you? How was your date with Charles?”

“I’m good, busy, but then you know how that is. My date . . . well, it went about as well as I thought it would.”

“So you won’t be going out with him again?”

I snort. “You knew that was a onetime thing when I told you that I agreed to go out with him.”

“Was it that bad?” she asks curiously. She knows about my history with Charles and is the only person who knows about the cheating rumors.

“It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good. He hasn’t changed at all, and I don’t know what I saw in him when we were young, even if I was just young and stupid. He didn’t show any kind of chivalry, didn’t open my door, didn’t pull out my chair, didn’t even wait for me to put on my seat belt before he started to drive. He talked about nothing but himself. Come to think of it, I don’t even think he asked me one question about myself. Wait, that’s not true. He asked if I’ve thought about giving up the whole hair gig and getting back to what he called the ‘real world’ of work.”