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He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for when he sneakily went about engaging her in conversation over the coffee drink in her hand. Some sign of recognition would’ve been nice, though his wolf padded anxiously inside of him, worried that the fear scent would fill the air if she became afraid of him again.

Maddox had spent days planning this, eager to make this meet seem as casual and coincidental as possible. Asking her about a coffee order was one of the most human things he could think to do.

So that’s what he did.

“Excuse me--”

“It’s okay.”

“My mistake. I should’ve been watching—oh, wow.” He made a deliberate sniffing motion. Her delicious scent, clean and soft and sweet, wrapped around him. His poor cock got impossibly harder as he allowed himself to revel in it for a brief moment before he forged forward with his plan. “Wow, sorry to bother you, but whatever you’re holding smells delicious. Would you mind telling me what it is?”

She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable, but good manners won out in the end. Instead of dashing for the door, she stopped, moving aside to let another group of patrons enter the bustling shop. “Oh, uh, yeah. It’s an iced cinnamon macchiato, pump of vanilla syrup, almond milk instead of skim.”

“Almond, huh? Does it make it taste better?”

“I think so. Maybe it’s in my head, but it seems a bit nuttier to me. It’s good.”

“And kind of complicated. Cinnamon mocha—”

She laughed. “No. Macchiato. It’s like espresso with milk.”

He knew that. “Pump of what?”

“Vanilla syrup. It makes it a little sweeter.”

Nothing was as sweet as the vanilla inherent in her scent.

“Thanks. You know, I think I’d actually like to try that, but I’m not so sure I’ll ever remember to say all that.” He paused, swallowing an excited yip courtesy of his wolf. This was super important. He couldn’t screw this up, not after how long he waited to do this just right. “Hey, this might seem like a lot to ask, especially since I almost knocked you over on my way in here, but do you think you could come over to the counter real quick, help me order my drink? I know I’ll mess it all up.”

Maddox knew he’d go to hell for manipulating his mate, but it was worth it. All’s fair in love and war and fated mates. Every bonded shifter knew that.

It was difficult to give her the puppy dog eyes when he was wearing mirrored sunglasses. The shades had been a given, a necessary prop for his ruse since any Ant would recognize he was a shifter by the way his eyes changed when his beast was coming to the forefront. So he had to wear them, though the way he stuck his lip out just enough to form a pout gave him a similar advantage.

His mate had a soft heart; he knew that from all of the watching he had done. And he might be a right bastard for using that to his advantage, but Maddox was going to take any help that he could get.

He’d apologize when she was his. Until then, anything was game.

She smiled, and if it was less than enthusiastic, he didn’t care. ‘Yeah. Sure. I don’t have to be back at the office for another twenty minutes.”

She worked within walking distance of the coffee shop she habitually visited on her afternoon break. In the last few weeks, she never deviated from her schedule. She was at work by nine, took a lunch break at one, was back in the office by two, and set out for home by six. Evangeline worked five days a week, off on the weekends, and spent most of her free time by herself.

As soon as she let him, Maddox was going to change that.

Careful not to grab her and tuck her close, he followed her to the line. He was grateful for the seven people ahead of him because, by the time it was her turn to order the drink, he had her name—“Oh, it’s Evangeline”—and had offered his in return.

It was a start.

His plan was to begin slowly, make contact, maybe meet Evangeline at the coffee shop in a day or two and pretend it was another coincidental meeting. He could tell her he loved the fancy drink order, offer to buy her one.

Baby steps, Colt told him one night when he was ready to fight the wards to get to his mate.

Take it easy. Make her comfortable.

Make her his.

One fucking step at a time.

Getting coffee… isn’t that what humans did on dates?


Tags: Jessica Lynch Claws Clause Fantasy