She needs time to process. If I push, the greater the chances are that she’ll block me. Who knows, maybe she already has. She seemed…rattled by the news that we’re a fated pair.
It’s shocking to me, too, but I’m not married to someone else. And I’m not human.
Who is her husband, anyway? Does he treat her right? How old are her kids? What does she like to do for fun?I’m itching to know more about her and her life, but I don’t even know her last name or where she lives. Only where she works. I can’t even look her up online. It’s a restless night, and I spend most of it looking through the baby books I bought, pacing on the deck outside, and admiring the huge, yellow full moon tonight.
I wonder if Julia is looking at it, too.
In the morning, when I’m making my breakfast—oatcakes and eggs—my phone vibrates with a call. Who calls at seven-thirty? Probably one of my brothers. Unsure I want to tell them anything about finding my mate yet, I let it go to voicemail. But when whoever it is calls back a second and then third time, I get worried it might be bad news, so grab the phone and answer.
“What’s going on?” I snap. Maybe I’m a little more on edge than I’d like to admit. “I’m in the middle of cooking.”
“Oh. Um. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” Julia’s voice on the other end of the line is small and breathy and makes my tail wag furiously. “Is there a better time?”
“Nooooo!” I slide over and switch off the stove burners. Breakfast can wait. “Sorry, I thought youwere someone else. This is a great time. Um, talk to me. Tell me what’s up.”
She hesitates for a split-second, and I worry she might hang up. But then she says, “Okay. I had some time to think about what you said yesterday, and I realized I might have dismissed you a little too quickly. Now that I’ve had time to process, I have some questions.”
My head gives a throb, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I let it out in a rush. “Shoot. Ask me anything.” I will tell this woman whatever she wants to know. My bank balance. The size of my dick. The dumb things I’ve said to people during job interviews. Anything.
“Obviously, you and I can’t have a relationship,” she begins.
This isn’t obvious to me. In fact, it seems pretty easy for us to be together. She just needs to dump the human husband, and I’ll show her the level of devotion she can expect from a wulver fated mate. But I bite my tongue and let her talk.
“I want to help you have a family of your own, if I can. Some friends of mine used a gestational carrier to have their son, and I can’t imagine their family without him in it. If I can give you that kind of joy, that kind of love in your life…”
“You can.” My throat is tight. She’s such a good person. I can feel how sweet and kind she is through the phone. “You’re the only one who can.”
She chuckles. “We don’t know that yet. I’m forty-five. That’s getting up there. That’s one of my questions, actually. Am I even a good candidate for surrogacy at my age?”
I want to howl with excitement. She’s really considering it. It’s not ideal to contemplate a life without my mate, but pups of my own? That would be a hell of a consolation prize. “We can find out. I’ll make an appointment with a wulver doctor to check you out if you want. They know more about hybrid pregnancies than I do and can tell you what to expect. And if you wanted to talk to my sister-in-law, she’s pregnant right now.”
“I remember. Three boys and a girl,” Julia murmurs. “I don’t know how I feel about multiples.”
“It’s not always a litter,” I rush to reassure her. “Conall and I were both only pups.” I leave out the fact that our older brothers were a litter of five.
“Good to know. I’m just trying to envision how it would all look. I want a clear picture before I bring it up to my husband.”
She hasn’t told him. That’s not good. He could be a huge roadblock. “Of course. I’ll address whatever concerns you have. Listen, do you want to comeover? We can iron out the details in person and I can show you the nursery?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says swiftly, and I realize how dumb that was to suggest. Yeah, come to a remote cabin in the woods to meet up with a guy who is desperate to impregnate you. Great plan, Ian. I wonder why she’s not jumping onthat.
“Somewhere in town, then? The coffee house again?” I suggest.
“Um, okay. After work today, same time?”
“Perfect. See you then.”
She looks different today. Equally beautiful, but her hair is braided on the side, and she has lipstick on. Her cheeks flush when she sees me sitting at the same table. Our drinks have already arrived, so I nudge the sugar bowl toward her when she sits.
She doesn’t immediately doctor her drink with it, though. First, she takes some tablets from her bag and chews them. “Lactose intolerance,” she explains. “I usually use soy milk.”
“Shit. I should have asked. I’m sosorry.”
She smiles, shaking her head. “It’s fine. I’m just letting you know because the pups could get it from me. You might need to use special formula. I mean, if we go ahead with this whole thing.”
“Okay.” My pulse is racing, being so close to her. My tail thumps against the leg of the chair. “Does that mean you wouldn’t want to nurse them?”
At the thought, I’m helpless to the magnetic pull of her breasts and find myself staring at their lovely, weighted curves. Her shirt is lower cut today, and I can see the very top of her cleavage, just a tiny peek above the neckline that calls me like a beckoning finger.
