Wanting a Mate

by Celia Kyle, Mina Carter

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  About the Authors

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  The M & M Mating Agency

  ~~=~~

  We don’t deal in chocolate. We deal in mating.

  ~~=~~

  The M & M Mating Agency cordially invites single females as well as males of the furry persuasion—and not—to attend the monthly Meet & Mate get-together. This is not a free pass to Bang Town, but—

  Before Marilyn M. Roe finished handwriting the newest marketing invitation for their mating agency, her brother Maddox snatched the page from her hands. “Bang Town? Really, Mari?”

  With a sigh, she spun her office chair around. “Well, what else do testosterone dick-driven males call it?” She raised her brows. “I’m open to suggestions, but Bang Town seemed less offensive than this is not a free pass to fuck every woman who walks through the door.”

  “We don’t—”

  She snorted. “Oh, you so do.”

  “You’re being sexist.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m a realist.”

  “You’re jaded.”

  “I’m experienced.”

  Nearing thirty and they still bickered with the best of them.

  Thus, they entered the Great Stare Off of Doom. She would win. Her optometrist encouraged her to use moistening eye drops because she stared at a computer every day and—

  Maddox pinched her arm. Hard. “Ouch! Asshole! That’s cheating!”

  “Your point?” he drawled. She would so claw him the next time they went running. Just wait.

  Mari opened her mouth to express her point in small, easily understood, four-lettered words but was cut off by the gentle tinkle of the bell above the front door.

  They had a customer.

  Their first!

  They quickly switched from the Great Stare Off to the Great Shove of Victory as they fought to escape her office. Mari won. Yes, she had curves but her brother had the whole broad shoulders thing going on and she managed to inch ahead of him enough to force him to take a step back.

  Victory!

  Holding out her hand, she placed a broad smile on her face and approached the newcomer. “Welcome, I’m Marilyn M. Roe, President—” She ignored her brother’s snort. “Of the M & M Mating Agency. How can I help you?”

  “Uh, I’m not here about me,” the stranger was quick to rush out. Typical male. “My brother Holt…”

  His brother. Right.

  Chapter Two

  How did the song go? And another one bites the—takes a ride on the rejection train…

  No, that wasn’t right, but it definitely applied. Gah, Chloe hated dating. Hated it with a capital Fuck and You.

  She shook her head and slid her house key into the lock. A quick turn and she was granted entrance into her home. The moment she stepped inside, she flicked on the small lamp to the left of the door and immediately moved to the alarm keypad nearby—the keypad that was not flashing or beeping or doing anything that resembled an active alarm counting down. It was off. It was never off. Even when she was home, it was on.

  Unless it wasn’t. Like now. Which meant…

  Chloe’s heart thundered, pumping blood and adrenaline through her body as she dug through her bottomless purse. She sought her bottle of salvation to give whomever turned her alarm off a face full of pepper spray. And not the cheap stuff. She’d ordered this awesome aerosol canister off the Internet. Guaranteed to put her assailant on the ground in two seconds. She was one badass bottle wielder.

  Chloe crept through her home as she looked for an intruder.

  Tiptoe through the house and fuck this burglar up.

  Movement grabbed her attention. Bright, glaring light invaded her vision, blinding her, and she reacted on instinct. Her hand flew up and depressed the button, spraying the room in a sweeping arch in hopes she hit whoever had turned on the light. Or… not. Because the stupid button wouldn’t go down. She was going to die due to a safety feature. She did not feel very fucking safe.

  She was so getting a refund.

  “You have to flick that little tab there, sweetheart. Do you want me to do it for you?” The ever-present click-clack of a woman’s high heels on Chloe’s hardwood floors immediately followed the question and she opened her eyes to glare at the person invading her space.

  “Mom.” Her voice was flat. “What are you doing here?”

  Her mother’s smile was dazzling as she took away the good-for-nothing weapon. “Taking off the child safety on your pepper spray.”

  Chloe sighed. “No, I mean now. What are you doing here at one o’clock in the morning?”

  Her mom gave her an indulgent smiled. “I just told you.”

  “Mom.” She was not going to yell. She was not going to yell. “Other than dicking—”

  “That is not a nice word.”

  “With my pepper spray, what are you doing here?”

  “Oh.” That smile grew wider. “I wanted to find out how your date went, so I came over.”

  Now, there were a couple of things wrong with that statement:

  One. Chloe hadn’t told anyone she’d gone on a date. Not her mother, not her friends, and definitely not anyone else in her family. She refused to openly admit she’d turned to dating sites in an effort to find the one.

  Two. No one knew her alarm security code, so how did she get inside?

  “Mom…” She slowly drew out the word. “How did you know I had a date? And how did you get inside?”

  Her mother squirmed and then spun toward the kitchen. “Let me cut this little tab here. The plastic is being a you know what.”

  Yes. It’s a lot like you, right now.

  “Avoidance,” Chloe drawled the word she lovingly learned from their family therapist, “will not make the questions go away.”

  “Oh,” her mother waved over her shoulder, flapping her hand, “I don’t want them to go away. I just don’t want to answer.”

  Honesty. Honesty was another thing they’d learned together. They were star patients.

  Her mother turned the corner, and Chloe dropped her purse beside the door before turning and flicking the locks. Plural. Her brothers hadn’t been able to talk her into staying in her hometown, but they did make sure the house was as secure as possible. Staring at her mother’s back, she realized it wasn’t enough.

  Chloe followed her mom into the kitchen and propped her hands on her hips. “And refusing to answer is still avoidance.”

  Her mom huffed and turned toward her, bottle of pepper spray in one hand and kitchen scissors in the other. “You’re just gonna get mad.”

  Nothing new.

  “Mom,” she warned, frustration getting the better of her.

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “Oh, fine. I installed this teeny tiny app. Really tiny. So small you wouldn’t even—”

  “Mom!”

  “So impatient. You know, I always told your father—”

  “So help me—”

  “Now, you know what Dr.—”

  “I will so get Dr. Collinsbert on the phone right this second, Ma.” Chloe didn’t care if it meant rolling the man out of bed. She’d be on the phone before her mother could blink. Their family was a study in about every dysfunctional family disorder known to man. Not necessarily Chloe’s immediate family, but the Hall group in general. Free therapy in exchange for the willingness to be included in a study. The Inherited Intricacies and Deficiencies of the Familial Mind. One of the TV networks wanted to do a reality show on them. Mom agreed. Fortunately the siblings did not.
<
br />   She didn’t want details because it boiled down to Hall = fucked in the head. Except for Chloe. At least, that’s what she often told herself.

  “Fine,” her mother snapped. “When I borrowed your phone last weekend… Well, there’s this small app that lets me track—”

  “You’re spying on me?” she growled. This was why she moved out of Cannon Falls and came to Pathfork. This. Right there. Right then. She even told the therapist that. The interfering and invasions had to stop.

  “Only a little bit. And only at night. You know, just in case something—”

  Chloe didn’t want to hear it. She spun on her heel and stomped to her purse quickly to hunt for her cell phone and scroll through her apps. And… there it was. ISpyWithMyEye. Which, of course, couldn’t be removed without a password. That had her stomping back the way she’d come. “What’s the password, Mom?”

  “I don’t think removing it—”

  “Mom.” She took a deep breath. She couldn’t kill her mother. Because it wasn’t just Mom who’d been a part of this. Nope. The woman was a wonderful parent but didn’t have a head for tech. That meant her brothers had gotten in on this. Great. “The password. And then you’re telling me who really installed this app.”

  “You’re not a very loving daughter.” She sniffed and her eyes glistened.

  So not falling for that. “Mom.”

  From the outside looking in, Chloe probably sounded like a first-class bitch. On the inside looking out, she agreed she was acting like a first-class bitch. But she’d wanted to stand on her own two feet and get away from the overprotective group for a while and… this was what she’d gotten.

  “Fine,” she grumbled. “It’s buttplug. One word, all lowercase.”

  She wasn’t asking how her mother even knew of a butt plug. Ever. Instead, she simply typed in the eight letters and got rid of the app.

  “We are so talking about this in our next session,” Chloe hissed.

  “Drag Leo, Andrew, and Ethan, too. They were involved.” Chloe was sure her mom was trying to be helpful.

  She wasn’t. In any way.

  Ignoring that, she moved to the subject of her mom’s presence. “Now, you’re here because…”

  She loved her mother, she did. She just had to remind herself every now and again. And again.

  “I knew you had a date and didn’t want to sit and wait for hours. So I tracked you—”

  Chloe held up a hand. “You knew that? And how—”

  “Well, there’s this other app on your computer… You really should stay away from those FindLove, MeetMe, and HappinessForever type dating sites. Andrew says they’re meat markets, and men are there only to ‘hook up,’” her mother used honest to God air quotes and even winked, “with women. You’re not a hooker kind of girl.”

  Hooking up seemed like a great idea. It’d help get rid of some of this stress. The stress her mother caused.

  She shook her head. “I’m buying a new computer tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to go to the expense. You know Ethan would—”

  “I don’t trust a single one of you,” she ground out.

  “You should. We have a Trust Hexagon.”

  They’d tried a trust circle, but when it was obvious they annoyed and poked and prodded each other to no end, they’d unanimously changed it to a hexagon. Six sides, lots of pointed edges. “Back to the reason for your visit.” She breathed deeply and fought for calm. “The date was fine.”

  Everything in her life was fine and if she told that lie often enough, she’d start believing it.

  “No, it wasn’t. You came home alone.” Nope, not addressing that comment with the woman. Which was good because Mom wasn’t done yet. “But I have the answer!” Her mom dug into her pocket and whipped out a sheet of paper. “See this? The M&M Mating Agency.” She looked at the page, the elegant script and the assurance they didn’t deal in chocolate, they dealt in love. Cute. “It’s a site that focuses on mating. Not dating. Mating.”

  “Calling it mating instead of fuck—”

  “Chloe Marie Hall!”

  Right. She was talking to her mother. No mention of fucking.

  “They call it mating because it’s a shifter mating service. They help match up men and women who are mates. Forever and ever, and no cheating, and kids, er, cubs… Babies!”

  Her mother had that look in her eyes. The one that combined hope with isn’t your clock ticking yet. Yes, her clock was ticking. Loudly and frequently. It was the reason behind Chloe’s accounts at FindLove, MeetMe, and HappinessForever, dammit.

  “You’re not prejudice, right? We raised you better.” That look told her she better not even think of discriminating and if she did… God help her.

  “Of course not.” She immediately shook her head on cue. And she wasn’t. She wanted love and a family. She didn’t care if the guy was blue or turned into a wolf. Or blue and turned into a wolf. Love was… love. Though it’d be great if he were a feline. His tongue against her—ahem—as he purred? Yum…

  “Good.” Her mom jerked her head in a quick nod. “Because I signed you up for their first Meet & Mate tomorrow night.”

  * * *

  “What the fuck is a meet and mate?” Holt gripped the 2x4 he was supposed to be nailing into place and fought the urge to whack it upside his brother’s head. Hard. It was that smile. One he remembered from childhood that said Archer was up to some shit and it would end with Holt holding onto his human skin by a hair.

  Right now, a game of baseball with Archer’s head seemed just the thing he needed to calm his cougar. The animal had been a girly, whiny bitch the last few months and maybe releasing some of that on his aggravating sibling was the answer.

  “Why the fuck you looking at me like that?” Archer glared back, but not for long. No one ever held his glower more than a beat or two. It was damned effective when staring down an older brother. Not so much when he was trying to have a civilized conversation with other shifters. Or even his father. Fuck, sometimes he hated being him.

  Holt squeezed the wood tighter, and part of him was gratified at the small crack as it succumbed to his strength. “Because I know you started some shit and now I’m involved. So, what the fuck is a meet and mate?”

  Archer lowered his gaze farther and pretended to focus on the wires in front of him. Ass hat.

  With Archer suddenly quiet, he tossed aside the 2x4 he’d held and snagged another pre-cut board. Holt owned Catson Construction and the company was currently contracted to frame out a new subdivision, but sometimes he had to get his hands dirty. Which meant Holt was working with his electrician brother while the other two—Donovan and Sawyer—were at other home sites. Working like this, sweating and cursing in the hot sun, helped him bleed off his frustration and aggression. He’d had a fuckton of that going on lately and his inner cougar didn’t seem like it was gonna let up anytime soon.

  Fucker. He tried gorging on red meat and running through the forest until he collapsed. Neither worked. He’d even hunted, and the bastard still paced and snarled in the back of his mind.

  Deep down he knew what the animal wanted. A mate. Cubs.

  Not happening. He wasn’t gonna have a mate who cowered before him like everyone else. And that was what it’d be. Fucking lowered eyes and scared trembles when he raised his voice.

  Fuck that.

  That was another thing. Fucking cat had him so pissed all the time that every sentence included the word fuck. Sometimes multiple fucks.

  Holt held the board in place and popped in a couple of nails, the nail gun releasing a pressurized thump as it drove the metal into wood. “You gonna answer?”

  Before Mom loses a son?

  “It’s a Meet & Mate, a get-together of people who wanna find their mates. See if maybe their other half is there, too,” Archer grumbled.

  Holt pressed the head of the hand tool flush with the hard surface and held it in place as he turned his attention to Archer. “Excuse me?” He pulled the
trigger and was gratified when his eldest brother flinched. It was a perverse pleasure, but if it amused the cat, Holt was all for it. “What kind of get-together? And who the fuck said I wanted a mate?”

  He wasn’t admitting he did, even though his cat was purring and chuffing, practically begging to go wherever the hell it needed to get a mate.

  “Mom.”

  Holt winced. It figured his mom would realize what was wrong before he voiced it. “What did she say?”

  It seemed the cat was respectful when it came to their mother. No cursing.

  Archer shrugged. “That you haven’t dated much and haven’t seen anyone in a while.”

  Mainly because if the woman wasn’t their mate, the cougar wanted nothing to do with her. It wanted to fuck, sure, but only their mate. Blue. Balls. From. Hell. Twice…hell, three times over. With a side of fuck!

  “Been busy,” Holt grunted and released another nail, putting that piece in place as well.

  “She said you’re acting like a cougar who wants to settle down. Dad was the same way.” He didn’t turn his attention to Archer, wanting to get the rest of the story told. Meeting the man’s gaze would have them on a straight shot to silence. “And since you won’t go out with me and the guys, or even our brothers, this was the closest I could get.”

  “A Meet & Mate,” he grumbled. “What the hell is it?”

  “I told you. There’s a new agency that targets shifters. The M&M Mating Agency. Their whole purpose is to match up mates. Help us find our forever—” Archer cut himself off and Holt shot him a glance. He wasn’t going to say anything about Archer’s blush. At least, not now. Later though… “Mom thought it was a good idea.”

  That was the nail in the coffin. Mom thought it was a good idea. The woman had them all wrapped around her little finger.

  They were pussies. The lot of them.

  “So, what? You called ‘em up and said ‘hey, my brother wants a chick to bang’ and it was done?”

  Archer snorted. “No. Fucking three hours of paperwork. Hours, Holt.”

  “The fuck?”

  “I know, right? The owner chick was stacked though.” Archer shook his head. “I vouched for you. Filled out your paperwork and shit.”