What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack) (8 page)

Chapter Nine

Josie downed her second latte from Starbucks and watched the sun come up from her office window.

Last night, after overhearing Ryder tell Mitch that they’d never be together, she’d decided not to go home. Carrie would’ve wanted to come over and talk, the way she always did when something was wrong. Josie had checked her cell in the cab on the way to Sausalito. Just as she’d suspected, Carrie had blown it up with texts, wondering if she was okay. If she wanted company.

Yup. Figured right.

Crashing after a bottle of Pinot
,
Josie had texted back.
Don’t come by.
Won’t hear the door
.

But of course, knowing Carrie, she would’ve come by anyway. The willpower to hide her head under the pillows tonight simply wasn’t there. She would’ve caved and wound up opening the door for her sister anyway.

Choosing the safe route, Josie had come to the office and buried herself in work all night.

No rest for the weary, or the successful.

Dumping her empty cup into the trash, she returned to her desk and started skimming through applications. Time to find another match.

As the clock clicked over to eight, the front door to her building dinged open. Who wanted to turn in dating applications first thing Saturday morning? Singles should’ve been out on the town late Friday, and sleeping off hangovers at 8:00 a.m.

“Josie?”

Ryder.

Damn.

“I know you’re in here.” Why’d his voice have to be so sexy? It was deep and raspy. The most soothing sound she’d ever heard. “Hello?”

Maybe if she was quiet, he’d leave.

“I’m not leaving,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “I’ll just sit out here and wait in your lobby. You only have one way out, so you have to pass by me sooner or later.”

Double damn.

She bit her nails. First order of business tomorrow: call to install a back door in her office.

“I’m back here. First door on the left,” she called out, fluffing her hair into place. She probably looked horrible. Hair sticking up everywhere from tugging at it all night long, and black rings under her eyes from makeup runoff. Wonderful. Snatching the Dasani from the corner of her desk, she tipped it over, dribbling water on her fingers. When they were soaked, she scrubbed them beneath her eyes to erase the rings and smashed her lips together to bring back their color. “Come on in.”

He pushed open the door slowly and took a long look around before coming inside. “Wasn’t sure you’d let me in.”

“I wasn’t either.”

And she really wasn’t.

“You look great,” he said, hands in his pockets. “I like what you’re doing with your hair. You’re going for that sexy, just rolled out of bed look.” He blew out a slow breath. “It’s working for you.”

“Oh, yeah.” That was totally the look she was going for.
Not.
“Thanks.”

She glanced in the reflection of the window. Her hair was tousled. Frizzed. Seriously needed a brush. But he liked it this way? Maybe for the bachelorette party tonight she could—no, she wouldn’t change a thing about herself for that man.

“What can I do for you, Ryder?” She tented her fingers over the desk, exuding a sense of professionalism she didn’t truly feel. The room didn’t seem to be big enough for the two of them
and
their combustible chemistry. “Did you come to fill out an application?” Jerking the drawer open, she pulled one out and handed it to him. If he didn’t want something serious with her, why not fill it out and find someone else to fool around with? “Here. Take it.” She dropped it on the edge of the desk and hid her hands so he wouldn’t see them quake. “You can return it when you’re finished.”

Sitting in the chair across from her desk, he crossed his ankle over his knee without taking a single look at the application. “Josie…”

“What?”

“I came to talk.” Even though his blue eyes still twinkled brightly, he looked tired. His face sunken. And wasn’t that Mitch’s shirt that he’d worn last night? “Do you have a second?”

“I’m working.”

“You don’t have a minute to spare? I wanted to explain what you might’ve heard last night.”

Panic latched on to her windpipe. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“I’d rather not brush it under the rug.”

She stared him down. “To be honest, I’d rather forget about last night altogether.”

He flinched. It was the tiniest scrunch of his handsome face, but he hadn’t liked what she’d said. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is. And if you don’t mind, I’ve got a lot of work to do.” To prove it, she opened a manila folder sitting on the right edge of her desk and started perusing the applications, touching each one. “This takes up all my energy.”

“I was wondering how you do it.” Uncrossing his legs, he slid to the edge of his chair and clasped his hands together over his knees. “Can I watch?”

“No, you can’t watch.” Her heartbeat faltered as he quirked an eyebrow. “It’s a private process. And you don’t believe in it anyway, remember?”

He leaned forward, nearly touching her desk. “It’s not that I don’t believe that you can sense a connection. I simply think you could be wrong every now and again. It’s not possible to know if someone is right for someone else based on an application alone.”

“It’s seemed to work so far.” She shot him a smug grin. “Ninety-nine couples have come in single and ended up married. Mitch and Carrie will make one hundred if you keep your nose out of their business.”

“What about you?” he asked, his voice going dark.

“Me?”

“Have you ever thought about finding your match?”

Long ago, when she’d first opened Cole Matchmaking Services, she’d outlined what she wanted in a partner and husband. More than the details on paper she’d been adamant that they had to have a connection—an undeniable spark when they first met. She refused to settle for less than love at first sight that bloomed into a quiet wedding ceremony, a large family, a blissfully passionate forever.

High hopes? Probably, but why not aim high? This was her
life.

For one glimmering moment, she thought she’d found something special with Ryder. They had a connection like no other she’d ever experienced. Except for one small detail: he apparently hadn’t seen the same future she did.

If she wanted a future with marriage and children—and she did, more than anything—he wasn’t the one.

“I’ve searched for my match as recently as last week,” she said, averting her gaze to the applications.

“Of course you have.” Shaking his head, Ryder cleared his throat awkwardly. “Why wouldn’t you, with all theses applications at your disposal. Shouldn’t be hard to find a cat-loving vegetarian with a stable job.”

“You’re right,” she answered quickly. “There are hundreds of guys who fit the bill.”

But none of them were as appealing as the guy sitting across from her.

As a strange rumbling sound filled the room, Josie leaned closer to her computer. Was it doing an automatic update or something? Just as suddenly as it came, the growling sound disappeared. When she met Ryder’s gaze, he seemed to stiffen.

“That was strange.” She paused, still listening. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

At the moment, she couldn’t hear anything but her own heartbeat. It was pounding away, the way it usually did when Ryder was near. “I guess it was nothing. Anyway, the hard part is finding someone on the same page as I am. Someone who wants to settle down, get married, and have children.”

But she didn’t want just anyone. She wanted
him,
even though he didn’t want her in the same way. She must’ve been pathetic. And desperate. But if Ryder wanted her right here, right now, she would give herself freely.

“I don’t think you’ll have a problem finding someone who wants to give you those things,” he said, though he sounded pained. As if the words burned passing his lips.

Then why won’t you?
she wanted to say. But she bit her bottom lip instead.

Jaw clenching, Ryder leaned back and gripped the armrests of the chair. “Are you bringing a date to Mitch and Carrie’s wedding?”

She’d been so caught up in him, she hadn’t thought about it. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what you really want?” She struggled to read the stoic expression on his face. He revealed nothing, so she echoed her previous statement. Just to be clear. “You want me to find a date for the wedding?”

He went rigid. Still as a statue. “Why wouldn’t I? You have the right to be happy, just like everyone else.”

No mistaking that, was there?

And if he didn’t want to be that man, why not find someone who did? Even if she compared every man to Ryder, the one she couldn’t have.

“Then I will.” The air in the room sparked with tension. “Well, until I find the right guy, I’m going to focus on the company’s next perfect match. I wonder who the lucky one is today…”

As she perused the papers, one in particular—an application for a forty-something doctor in Daly City—buzzed in her hand. Her hair stood on end. Plucking it from the stack, she held it in one hand and skimmed quickly.

“Here’s one right here. A single guy looking for love. Dave Ransfield’s life is about to change.” She probably shouldn’t have said his name aloud, but whatever. She was too busy proving a point. “He went to medical school at Davis,” she read aloud. “No kids. One previous marriage to Anne Ransfield, who is a first-grade teacher from Simi Valley. Ended four years ago.”

“Red flag,” Ryder piped up.

“What
flag
?”

“He’s quick to divorce.”

“You don’t know that.” Josie frowned at him. “He and his previous wife could’ve been married a decade or more.”

“Does it say that?”

“No,” she said, searching. “But I’ll find out before I bring him in to match him with someone.”

“Doesn’t the divorce rate rise with subsequent marriages?” Ryder smirked as if he’d won the argument. “I thought I read that somewhere. Doesn’t that worry you?”

“Maybe he wasn’t meant to be with his first wife.” Her heart pounded as she stared into his sky-blue eyes. “Maybe he got married too young, and is now going to find his one true love.”

His shoulders tensed. “You really believe in true love? Deep down? No bullshit?”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t be in this business if I didn’t.” As the temperature in the room seemed to skyrocket, Josie went back to reading Mr. Ransfield’s application. “Everything else checks out. Not a psycho so far.”

“You can’t tell if he’s a psycho from a few dry details.”

“Like I said earlier, I’ll do more research on him.”

“Still won’t tell you everything you need to know before you hook two people up.”

She turned to the back page to scope out Mr. Ransfield’s picture.

“Hmm.” She waggled her eyebrows for effect. “Tall, dark, and handsome. I predict I’ll find his perfect match before nightfall.”

Chuckling, Ryder leaned over the desk to sneak a peek at Mr. Ransfield’s picture. “You think you can tell how good-looking this guy is from a selfie he took in his bathroom?”

“That’s not his bathroom,” she fired, looking more closely. And then she met Ryder’s gaze.

He laughed. “Made you look, though.”

“How old are you? Four?”

Moving his application away from the stack, Josie thumbed through the rest, desperate to find Mr. Ransfield’s match. If she could find a perfect pair in front of Ryder, maybe he’d finally believe she could do this.

But no other applications tickled her fingers the way his had. Turning to the manila folder on the right side of the desk, Josie removed applications from the previous month.

“Oh, now she’s pulling out the big guns,” Ryder said, tracking her movements.

Ignoring him and closing her eyes—the way she sometimes did when she really wanted to feel the client’s energy—Josie perused the applications in her mind.

There.

Same buzzing sensation.

Picking up the doctor’s application, she held it in one hand and plucked the second one from the stack.

“Gotcha,” she said, grinning ear to ear. “Perfect match.”

She
knew
she hadn’t lost her touch. Mitch and Carrie really were perfect for each other. She hadn’t had a mismatch yet, and there was no reason to think she would now. The wedding was going to proceed smoothly from here on out.

“Really?” Ryder’s eyebrows nearly reached his hairline as his eyes went wide. “You found it? Just like that?”

She waved the applications around, victorious.

“How do you know?”

“I feel it deep down in here.” She patted her chest over her heart. “There are some connections you can just sense.”

Like the one she shared with him.

“I agree with you there.” His voice went hoarse. “One hundred percent. Some connections can’t be denied, no matter how much we try.”

As he swallowed hard, she met his gaze. An odd glimmer of craving burned in his eyes, capturing her as his prisoner. He looked hungry for something, and her heart stuttered in answer.

“So who is she?” Ryder said, rubbing his eyes to sever their connection. “Mr. Ransfield’s one true love?”

Grinning smugly, she held up the application and glanced at it for the first time. “The perfect match for the doctor is…” She scanned quickly. “Anne Brown. I bet she’s lovely.”

He nodded, his lips pressed together firmly. “And what does Anne do?”

“She’s a first-grade teacher.” Josie paused, reading the rest quietly. Something was wrong. Very,
very
wrong.

“Wasn’t that what you said his first wife did?” Ryder asked.

Nodding, she shoved the applications into the manila envelope. “You know what? I don’t feel comfortable sharing all of this with you anymore.”

“Yet I took you on a stakeout with me,” he fired. “Come on. What else?”

“No.” She tightened up like a clam. “It’s over. Done.”

He snatched the manila folder. She jumped and tried to rip it from his hands.

“What are you doing?” she hollered, charging around her desk. “Give it back.”

Sliding the application from the envelope, he tossed the remaining applications on her desk and skirted the chair so she couldn’t catch him.