Chapter Two
Hope stood in front of her mirror and nervously smoothed down the front of her dress. The blue paisley pattern set off her eyes and her honey-blonde hair, and the deep v-neck showed her cleavage to advantage. She hoped the wide belt helped conceal the fact that her waist wasn’t as small as she wished it was. She’d spent an hour pulling items out of her closet and tossing them on the bed as she rejected them. She wanted to look like a desirable woman, not a desperate manhunter.
She struggled with the clasp on her lucky sapphire necklace, one of the few items of her mother’s that she had. Maybe, if this date went well, she’d have someone around to help her put on necklaces, zip up her dress, and reach things on high shelves. And make her bed a lot less lonely.
She double-checked her small evening purse, making sure it held her phone. Finally, she gave her dress one last tug and hoped she was ready for this. Kathy had promised to stand by in case the guy turned out to be weird or aggressive. And what if, as Kathy had suggested, he was a shifter?
He won’t be. The agency would have told me if he was.
But what if he is? The guy she was about to
meet could also be a bear, or a lion, or something she hadn’t even thought of. The idea wouldn’t leave her alone. She shook her head, shoved it to the back of her mind, and grabbed her keys.
Hope had agreed to meet him...Joshua...at the restaurant in his hotel, but she hoped he didn’t read anything into that. The hotel was only a short drive away, which meant she didn’t have to spend too much time fighting traffic. She pulled up in front of the hotel and gave the valet her car keys.
The hostess at the hotel restaurant greeted her with a smile. “Table for how many?”
“I’m meeting someone,” she told the hostess. “I don’t know if he’s here yet—”
At the bar behind the hostess stand, she saw a man who looked a bit like the fuzzy picture the agency had sent her. He looked curiously in her direction, and when their eyes met, he rose from his seat and smiled at her. “Hope? Joshua Farris. Call me Josh.”
She nodded her thanks to the hostess and stepped over to the bar. “Hi. I’m Hope Callahan.” And you are incredibly attractive, her brain supplied. His light blue shirt set off his tanned skin, and his brown hair had a hint of gold in it, matching the light in his warm brown eyes. His profile listed his height as 6’1”, but he seemed even taller to Hope, his long legs encased in slim black pants that matched his jacket.
And those legs—they were worth looking at too. Even through the dress pants, she could tell that underneath was solid muscle. Hope wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen someone this gorgeous outside of the movies.
“Sorry I didn’t recognize you at first,” she continued. “Your picture didn’t do you justice.” There. That sounded adult, not at all like her pulse was racing and her hands were sweaty.
“You’re just as beautiful as your picture,” he said. God, his voice was low and quiet, but just the sound of it set up an insistent thrum between her legs. What was wrong with her? She’d never reacted to a guy like this. He was way too hot to even look at her, let alone date her. Why in the world did a guy like this need a matchmaker?
“Are you a shifter?” she blurted.
The pleasant, slightly nervous look fell from his face. “Uh, yeah. The agency didn’t tell you?”
“No,” she said. “I guess they left that out.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“No,” she said again, not entirely certain.
He took a deep breath and fiddled with his shirt cuffs. “Look, why don’t we just spend some time getting to know each other? Then maybe you’ll have a better idea.”
“Yeah,” she said, her uncertainty warring with the flat-out lust dancing around in her stomach. “Let’s do that.”
***
Josh gestured for Hope to lead the way to their table, mentally cursing whoever at Single & Serious had left that important fact out of his file. This date might be doomed before it even started, and that would be a real shame, because he hadn’t ever seen anything as delectable as Hope. Several inches shorter than he was, what she lacked in height she made up for in curves. Lush, full breasts that sloped into the shadow of her cleavage. Round hips, incredibly kissable lips that begged to be nibbled and sucked—there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for a chance to touch some of that creamy skin.
He pulled her chair out for her and got a tentative smile in return. “Did you want some wine?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” she laughed. “Maybe it’ll relax us both.”
“White or red?”
“How about a nice Chardonnay?”
“Sounds good.” He ordered a bottle when the waiter came by and then spent some time looking at the menu. Say something, he thought frantically. “So you’re a writer?”
“Yeah,” she said, looking at him briefly but then returning her gaze to her menu. “Magazine articles, mostly. I’ve got a couple of regular gigs writing for airline magazines, so sometimes I get to travel to some really great places. I got back from Barcelona a few weeks ago.”