Her Mane Man (Online Shifter Dating Agency Romance)

by Sasha Winter

  Her suspicions became more focused, however, when she caught Blake and Veronica whispering outside her office only a few minutes later, after his session had ended. Judging by their guilty reactions when they noticed her, they’d obviously been talking about her, and then she finally understood that some kind of ill-conceived match-up was going on. As much as she loved her assistant, she knew the girl was incurable and would just not sit still when it came to trying to set Ashley up with someone.

  Was this what being single was going to be like? People throwing men at her from every angle? Closing off her social life looked like it was going to be ineffective after all; within the space of a single day they were coming at her online and now invading her client list. For as long as the label ‘available’ was stuck to her back she wouldn’t get a moment’s respite from all the match-ups. Ah well, she thought. There are much worse problems to have.

  Still, Ashley figured she would have to be on her guard whenever it came to meeting this friend of Blake’s…what was his name again? Marcus Wilson, according to the latest addition Veronica had made to their client spreadsheet. There would be no sweet-talking going on in her office. As good-looking as some of her clients had been in the past, she had never been distracted from keeping things strictly professional.

  That was the way it was going to stay.

  Chapter 2

  Marcus didn’t need to meet up with a friend in the evening in order to talk himself into having a strong drink, but it was nice to be drinking socially for a change. It meant his behavior appeared to be normal when meeting up with Blake at Harry’s Bar, and so his drinking was not interrupted by his personal demons asking him questions about where his life was going. He knew he wasn’t the first to have some trouble integrating back into society after military life, but knowing this had done nothing to make it easier so far.

  He was not an alcoholic, but alcohol was becoming more and more difficult to avoid as an aid towards sleeping when hitting the sack. A glass of straight whiskey stopped his mind wandering back to what had ended his military days; a habit of which he knew he was in fine company but had, as yet, been unable to level his mind with. Regret was blended with the shame of having been dishonorably discharged, which was, in turn, enhanced by the pains in his knee, that were always worse when he tried to rest or sleep. All of which served up something of a triple assault on his senses, which most evenings saw him fail to fight off without surrender. If it was possible to occupy one’s mind with distractions all hours of the day and night then he hadn’t yet discovered a way.

  The one saving grace in his life was his dog Max, who never left his side. He was also content in his job as a national park warden during the day, in part because Max could come along rather than being locked in the house. Otherwise, Marcus was aware he cut a pretty melancholic figure these days. He needed time to forget the past before deciding what he wanted to do with his life, but until then his second best companion—next to Max—would be a nightly glass of whiskey. Answer were a hard thing to come by without direct orders.

  Deep down he knew this sentiment was a bit unfair on Blake—someone he would have done anything for, seeing as they had put their lives on the line for each other on many an occasion—but his friend always made out that he knew what was best for him. Marcus would find his own way to face up to his demons; that was what being a man was all about and, whether honored or dishonored by the people he had fought for, he would always be a soldier.

  As their meet-up got underway, they spoke about very little of a serious nature. Baseball and football, mostly. Reminiscing about army days was always a touchy subject on which just being in each other’s company proved sufficient enough an acknowledgement, but Blake had some current news to offer that inadvertently brought the subject to the foreground.

  “By the way,” he began, “you know what I am now? Physically speaking?”

  “Transgender?”

  “Very funny, lion boy. No, what I am is fixed, more or less.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about that physiotherapy I mentioned to you a few months back. I feel like a new man; aches and pains vastly reduced, but even better, all that lethargy is behind me. I feel agile again, energetic even.”

  Marcus grinned. “The world is saved.”

  “It could be, buddy, but you’re still hobbling about, I notice.”

  “I can keep the pace with you any day of the week.”

  “Not without wincing at the same time,” Blake replied.

  “Why don’t we find out?”

  “Whatever, man! But my mind draws me back to several months ago when we sat in this very spot and you made me a pledge.”

  “Would this be one of those pledges that only you remember, Blake?”

  “No, you’re not getting off the hook this time, Marcus. I have the words from your very lips. You told me that if the physio worked on me then you would at least give it a go. Now…”

  Before his friend could protest any further, Blake held up a business card showing the name Ashley Cortes: qualified physiotherapist.

  “Take it. On the back of the card, you’ll find three appointment times to choose from.”

  “What! You’ve made me an appointment already?”

  “No, I just have three slots her assistant gave me. Incidentally, her assistant and I might just be getting together for a nice romantic meal sometime—if I’ve still got my touch with the ladies. So if you get the chance, say something good about me.”

  “I’m very happy for you, but I can do that without having to go through more treatment. I hate doctor’s appointments and I’ve had my fill of them. Waste of time! Besides, my knee only hurts sometimes. It’s not every hour of the day.”

  “She’s not a doctor, she’s a physiotherapist and a damn good one. Plus she’s very likeable and doesn’t patronize you, like so many other healthcare professionals around these parts.”

  “Yet why do I feel this is all about you and her assistant?” Marcus asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “Marcus!” Blake said, slapping his friend on the forehead with a beer coaster. “I’m dead serious. Not only do I have your word and best intentions in mind, but this woman happens to specialize in war veterans’ injuries. Now I don’t want to hear any more of it.”

  “You sound like my mother,” Marcus said, but he gave in at the same time and accepted the business card. A soldier’s word, as well as trust in the friendship between them, was an important thing to keep, regardless of what the promise was in reference to.

  “Ha!” Blake replied, then called up to the barman asking for four shots of tequila.

  “What are you doing now?” Marcus asked.

  “It’s time to take this night up a notch,” Blake replied.

  “If you’re gonna insist I down a shot, get something decent, like whiskey or something.”

  “You drink whiskey all the time. Tequila is for downing.”

  “Okay, but one will do.”

  “I don’t think you’re getting the point, Marcus,” Blake said under his breath. “The two ladies to our right are in need of some male company.”

  After pointing this out, Blake turned to wink at the pair. Although Marcus wanted to scold him for the idea, to be fair to his friend the two young ladies did smile back warmly. Apparently there’d been some light jokes exchanged between them when Marcus had been in the restroom, and so further conversation was now firmly on the cards. The two of them were pretty for sure, if a little young, he thought, and probably not taking the whole thing very seriously.

  “You want to chat them up, despite your impending date with Miss…erm…Cortes’ assistant?’” he asked, looking at the business card again.

  “Ah! But it’s not a date until I call her. We’re nothing but free men having a bit of fun right now, my friend,” Blake replied, slapping him on the back then turning to the two young ladies. “Okay, girls,” he offered, tequilas now in hand, “how about joining us
for a celebratory drink?”

  ‘”What are we celebrating?” one of them asked.

  “Beautiful company, of course.”

  The next hour was not as bad as Marcus imagined it might be, but he was putting on an act the whole time. Unlike Blake—the ‘new man’—his heart just wasn’t in it, or his loins for that matter.

  Marcus did spend some time talking with one of the young ladies, whose name he recalled to be Chloe—though he couldn’t remember the other one’s name. The initial exchanges, instigated by Blake, had been lightheartedly flirtatious, but Marcus mostly just tried to be pleasant. It didn’t take long to figure out that the pair of them were mostly just enjoying the company of a couple of single men for the evening, but were not really interested in anything beyond casual teases. This seemed obvious even with Blake and the second girl, despite him being far more brazen about how good-looking the two of them were. Their response was to laugh and blush a little, but they weren’t looking for anything more than compliments and, after a couple more of the horrid shots they kept buying, the sudden desire to cut the evening short and get home found him.

  The thought of Max waiting around on his mat really made him feel guilty for sitting around pretending to flirt with young ladies instead, and sampling the tequila had served to make sure that he certainly didn’t need any more alcohol. Something to eat to keep it down was probably the wiser choice and so, regardless of how he might disappoint his present company, he gave in and made his excuses.

  “Apologies for cutting things short, ladies,” he said, “but I’ve got to get moving. Early morning at the park tomorrow.”

  ”Oh, Marcus,” Blake complained, accompanied by disappointed groans from their two new acquaintances. “Just one more, the evening’s just getting going.”

  “No can do,” he said, with a smile. “I guess you beat me this time, but we all have our off days.”

  “But we’ve just made two lovely new friends.”

  “We’re in here often, I’m sure we’ll all meet up again,” he replied, putting on his coat and standing up to show how final he considered his decision—Blake’s powers of persuasion would never have relented otherwise. “Nice meeting you, girls. Don’t let this one lead you astray now,’” he concluded with a wink.

  Leaving on a note of humor and with a smile was about as much as he could manage. Even the speculation of whether Chloe had been disappointed to see him go failed to trouble his mind once he was outside and making his way home. Tequila really had been a step too far and he just wanted to get back and put his feet up. Plus, seeing Max would be the best medicine to help him forget that he had to go through with Blake’s physiotherapy idea. Talking to girls half-drunk was one thing, but when sober he didn’t feel like conversing with anyone, happy to be left to his park warden duties with Max by his side.

  As predicted, Max wouldn’t let him put his feet up straightaway though. Excited but muffled barks began as soon as Marcus put his key in the lock, then sure enough there was his beloved German shepherd with his food bowl between his teeth. In spite of feeling slightly nauseated from the shots, it was a sight that brought a smile to Marcus’ face.

  “Been a long night, has it, boy?”

  He greeted his pet, then made filling up the food bowl his first task before even taking his coat off.

  Marcus was aware that everyone thought their own pet special, but he would still claim that Max was even more special. Not only did the hound’s loyalty to him equal any other dog’s to their master, but Max seemed to have an uncanny ability to tell whether a person had good or bad intentions. It was an ability Marcus first became aware of when his pet had left his side—itself very unusual—to hunt down an individual he had spotted loitering in the undergrowth on one of their tours of the park.

  On following, Marcus discovered that his dog had cornered a man in a long duster coat who turned out to be none other than the flasher local police had been on the lookout for. Evidently the man had just been in the process of exposing himself once more to a group of college girls passing nearby but, because of Max’s intuition, he was able to call for help and have the pervert arrested. The girls finishing their picnic must have heard some commotion but probably left none the wiser.

  There were a number of additional incidents during which people could be said to be up to no good, when Marcus’ furry companion had suddenly turned aggressive, even though he was an animal of such a gentle nature that even those who were quite nervous of dogs often dared themselves to pet him. Max was great with children, didn’t bully other dogs and even tolerated cats, but if you were planning on doing something devilish, you’d better hope his fangs were not nearby.

  After feeding his loyal pet, Marcus took half an hour to put his feet up but suddenly found the need to occupy his mind with something before retiring to bed. Anything to distract him from the memory of that godawful tequila. He didn’t think he’d had enough to feel ill the next day, but that stuff just didn’t mix well with whiskey and he made a mental note to throw it in Blake’s face next time. If his friend wanted him to lighten up it would feel like a good start.

  Having turned up his nose at the young ladies in the bar, the idea of looking for more women was not really what he had in mind, but the first thing he did on his computer was check his email. Because of that, he was quickly drawn to his PurrfectMatch profile.

  He hadn’t been on the website for a while as he suspected his heart wasn’t really in it, but discovering that someone was trying to make contact with him inevitably made him curious. Even more so when he noted that the profile in question was a brand new one.

  Named simply ‘Ash84’, this new user left no profile picture and very few details about herself. She could’ve been anyone, but the fact that he had been her first point of interest couldn’t help but flatter him a little. Just like among soldiers, competing for a girl’s attention with a load of other lion shifters was not a task that could be approached effortlessly. His tepid attitude had probably been responsible for ensuring that other accounts always beat him to the prize.

  A fresh account who had only sent out the one request made him feel a little less lukewarm though. Seeing that she was new and knowing nothing about her also gave him a sense of responsibility. This could be the woman’s first conversation with a shifter like him and he felt it was his duty to give off a good impression—even if she proceeded to go ahead and choose one of the other men on the site to hook up with.

  “Hello Ash,” his response began. “Thanks for the contact. I haven’t been on here for a few weeks but nice that you’ve made me your first choice. I hope being on here proves a positive experience for you.”

  If that was all the contact Ash needed from him, Marcus wouldn’t have given the matter a second thought, and he had almost logged off, imagining she was busy or asleep. But five minutes later a reply popped up.

  “Hi,” came her message, “thank you for responding. I can’t quite believe I’m on here, which was why I chose a “gentle soul” like you.”

  “Well, I’m flattered,” he replied. “Should I take it you’re new to online dating? If so then it’s something we have in common. I loaded up my profile a few months ago but haven’t had too many conversations here.”

  “You’d be right. A friend recommended it, as I’ve just come out of a bad relationship.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “In truth I only visited the site so I could tell her I did, to get her off my back, but your profile drew my attention.”

  “Thanks for being honest. I’m familiar with friends who think they know what’s best for us—I’m a bit stubborn myself but deep down I know we should be grateful.”

  “I guess you’re right. It’s brought us together, even if we know very little about each other.”

  “That’s true. Is there a question or two you want to ask me?” he asked, warming to the fact that Ash seemed as reserved as he was.

  “Well, the obvious one is…are you reall
y a lion shifter?”

  “Yes, indeed. I don’t sit around all day roaring up at the sky or anything, but the answer is still yes.”

  “Wow, that’s so cool. You’re the first lion shifter I’ve ever met. What a fabulous world we live in with the internet being able to connect everyone, huh? I hope you’ve avoided any prejudice.”

  “By and large, yes. The truth is though, I don’t shift much. I’m comfortable with having the gene, but I don’t really see how it benefits a modern society, being able to turn into a lion. So I’ll only do it occasionally.”

  That was more of a convenient opinion to follow rather than the actual truth, but he was still grappling with the past himself and wasn’t about to trouble someone he hardly knew with a big old sob story. The last time he’d shifted into his lion form had proven traumatic and caused him to wish he’d never inherited the shifter gene, even though he would’ve been dead without it. Before the tragedy, he had reserved the right to shift when he thought it was necessary, as a result losing all the trust he had in his own decision-making.

  “I think humans in general are still getting to know shifters, to be honest,” Ash responded, probably not realizing how touched he was by such a kindly approach. “The more shifters get involved in things, the more we’ll discover about you—and maybe you about yourselves.”

  “That’s a positive thought. I like your way of looking at things,” he responded, hoping his sincerity came across.

  “Thanks!”

  “Do you think we’ll chat again so you can cheer me up some more?” he asked, a grin on his face as he typed. “Who knows, I might even be able to return the favor.”

  “I think I will—in fact I know I will…just can’t quite believe I’m on here still.”

  “That’s good to know. I’ll look out for you.”

  “You don’t mind about me admitting I only came on here to please my friend?”

  “Not at all. I appreciate the honesty. I hope you can put whatever the badness in your last relationship was behind you.”