Tristan ignores the suggestion. “Let’s meet up and share a table so we’re not stuck with boring people. I refuse to engage in chitchat about the weather when I could talk geriatric cat care best practices all night instead.”
I laugh at the incongruity of this handsome, high-powered guy wanting to geek out about aging cats. “Only you would think that was preferable.”
“Only you and me.” He winks, and I relent under his charm. We do have a lot of interests in common. Maybe Tristan and I can become real friends outside of work. Sharing a table at the gala will be fun.
“Sure, sounds good!”
Radar whimpers, pulling the leash to the side, and I glance up to see what’s garnered his attention, thinking maybe he scented a raccoon getting into one of the park trash cans. But when I realize who’s sitting on a bench just ahead of us, the rest of the world disappears.
Forget the beautiful evening. Forget the hot, interesting guy by my side. All I can see ishim.
Tall, red, and handsome. The dragon of my dreams. It can’t be Zed, here in my park. It can’t. He stands up to move toward us and smiles, revealing his distinctive snaggletooth. God, itishim. His shoulders are broader, his chest thicker than I remember. But it’s him. He lifts his hand in a tentative wave, looking as dazed as I am.
“Hi,” I breathe. The corner of his mouth tilts up. I can’t look away from his face.
“Do you know this dragon?” Tristan grasps my arm, pulling me back, his voice full of concern.
“Yeah. He’s…an old friend.” Understatement of the century. He’s…my baggage. My hang-ups. My one that got away.
At our feet, Radar yips excitedly, nostrils working overtime and tail wagging furiously. He starts bouncing like a puppy as Zed draws near. To my surprise, Zed drops to his knees in the grass to greet him.
“Hey buddy! You’re alive!” He sounds a little choked up as he scratches Radar behind the ears and ruffles his fur. Radar promptly rolls over, showing his undercarriage, and Zed obliges with belly rubs.
“Of course he is,” Tristan growls, his grip on me tightening. “Why wouldn’t he be? Cari’s the best vet in the state.”
Zed lifts his head, answering to me instead of Tristan. “He’s getting up there in years, isn’t he?”
“He’s sixteen now.” He was only a few months old when our friendship began. Less than a year old when Zed got hauled off to the monster medical center while paramedics patched up my scrapes and bruises from our big date disaster. He and Radar look natural together, though. Like no time at all has passed. “It’s so good to see you! What in the world are you doing in San Drogo?”
Zed stands, brushing the grass off his knees. “Um, work conference.”
“How long are you in town? We should find some time to catch up.”
“A few days—”
“TechMeet?” Tristan asks, cutting him off. Zed nods. “You must be pretty busy, then. Panels during the day, networking events in the evening. I know how it is at these big conferences. Hard to do anything but eat and sleep.”
Zed extends his hand. “You must be Cari’s husband. I’m Zed. Grew up in Apple Grove with her.”
“Tristan Vance.” Tristan grasps his hand, squeezing hard, and doesn’t let go.
“He’s afriend,” I correct, since Tristan doesn’t seem to be mentioning it, adding, “I’m not married.”
“You’re not?”
“No. You?” I hold my breath, hardly daring to hope that he might be single still. I’ve never heard of a dragon who wasn’t mated by our age. They usually pair off young because of their fated-mate bonds.
Our eyes meet as he answers, and his deep-gold eyes seem to glow momentarily. “No.”
Has he been waiting for me, too? My heart’s beating so loud, he must be able to hear it. “Oh! Great! I mean, it’s not great being single. It’s…fine. It’s okay. I’m used to being alone. That’s what I meant by great. I have Radar to keep me company, so it’s not so bad.” Oh god, I’m babbling.
“She doesn’t date,” Tristan says tightly. He’s still gripping both of us, me by the upper arm and Zed by the hand, keeping us in awkwardly close proximity.
Zed ignores Tristan even though we’re basically all breathing the same air. “Are you free Friday night?”
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly, not even pausing to think.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to the Alliance for Animal Welfare Gala with me,” Tristan interjects. He drops Zed’s hand and tries to pull me closer with the other, but my feet are planted.
