Chapter 10
Rob
I should’ve known the second I walked into Agatha’s Ice Cream that this wasn’t going to go smoothly.
Like so much of my life ever since I downloaded that Godsforsaken Date to Mate app.
Freshly showered, clean white tee, jeans that actually fit right—hell, I even ran a comb through my hair twice before coming in like that was gonna make a difference.
The bell above the door jingles, and every instinct I’ve got sharpens.
My Tiger lifts his head immediately.
Mate.
Yeah.
I know.
Except—she’s not here.
Nope.
Instead, I get the kid.
Tommy.
“Hey, it’s you!” he says, pointing at me like I just walked into a trap instead of an ice cream shop.
The kid is grinning like a total idiot, too, which immediately makes me suspicious.
“Who is that?” another voice asks.
I shift my gaze—and that’s when I see him.
Male.
Single.
Older than Tommy.
Not by a ton, but enough.
Broader shoulders.
Sharper eyes.
Standing behind the counter like he belongs there.
My Tiger doesn’t like him.
Like not at all.
There’s a low, dangerous rumble in my chest before I can stop it.
Unmated male.
Close to my mate.
Too damn close.
Now, I can brush Tommy off. Kid’s barely out of high school, still smells like sugar and sunscreen.
But this one?
This one’s a problem.
“That's the Tiger, bro,” Tommy says, way too loudly. “Came in here growling ‘mine’—remember I told you?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
The other guy smirks.
“Oh, you’re the one who’s been after Hadley, right? All the emails and texts she had me block?”
My vision goes a little red around the edges.
Because one—there are no humans in here right now.
And two—I’m about two seconds away from reaching across that counter and rearranging his face.
“That’s right. Hadley’s my mate,” I say, voice low. Dangerous. “Now, who the hell are you?”
He doesn’t even flinch.
“Name’s Jack. Tommy’s brother.” He leans his elbows on the counter like we’re having a friendly chat. “And I think I can help you win our girl over.”
Our girl.
My Tiger surges forward so hard I have to lock my jaw to keep from shifting right there on the spot.
“First,” I growl, taking a step closer, “I don’t need help.”
Another step.
“Second? If you call her our girl again, you and me are gonna have to step outside, son.”
Tommy makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a laugh.
Jack just grins wider like the cocky little shit he is.
Oh yeah.
I really don’t like this guy.
And of course—because the universe has a sense of humor—that’s when she walks in.
The bell jingles again, and everything in me just freezes.
It all just stops because I know—she’s here.
Hadley.
My Cookie.
She looks—fuck.
She looks good.
Fresh, flushed from the sun, shopping bags hanging from her hands, hair catching the light just right.
And the scent of her?
Sweet.
Warm.
Wrapped up with something that hits me low and deep and primal.
My Tiger chuffs.
Mate.
“Yeah,” I mutter under my breath.
“What the heck are you doing here?” she demands, eyes narrowing as she takes me in. “Are you harassing my employees?”
I open my mouth.
Close it again.
Because she’s not wrong.
I kind of am.
But also?
Words are currently not my strong suit.
Because she’s standing there, looking like that, smelling like that, and I’m suddenly very aware of how much I want to be able to touch her.
To kiss her.
To claim her in front of all and sundry.
Shit.
My body is trembling with yearning, and I can feel my Tiger scratching at my insides, demanding I stake my claim.
Mine.
Shhh. Don’t go there. Not yet.
I rein him back in—barely.
And I force my gaze to drop.
I see the bags in her hands.
Heavy.
Too many.
Without thinking, I step forward and take them from her.
All of them.
She keeps talking.
“I swear if you think you can just walk in here and push your weight around, you have got another think coming, buster—wait—what are you doing?”
I don’t answer.
I just turn and start walking.
She follows me automatically, still mid-rant, as I head toward the back of the shop like I’ve been here a hundred times.
Which I haven’t.
But it doesn’t matter.
Because my Tiger knows exactly where to go.
I follow the remnants of her scent. It’s like a map, outlining the pattern of her daily travels.
I go up the private staircase.
To her place.
She finally catches up, grabbing my arm.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
I glance down at her, shifting the bags in my grip like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Carrying your bags for you, Cookie,” I say, flashing her a grin. “That’s obvious, isn’t it?”
Her eyes widen.
Her mouth opens.
Closes.
And for just a second?
She looks completely thrown.
Yeah. That’s right, sweetheart.
You can block my number.
You can dodge my calls.
But you’re not getting rid of me that easy.
“Oh, um, okay,” she murmurs, stepping past me.
The stairwell is narrow—blessedly, perfectly narrow—and as she squeezes by, her body brushes mine.
Soft.
Plush.
Mine.
A low growl slips out before I can stop it, my Tiger stretching against my skin like he’s finally getting closer to something he’s been chasing for days.
She either doesn’t notice or pretends not to.
Smart girl.
She reaches the top of the stairs and fumbles with the door, pushing it open without even looking.
“You always leave that unlocked?” I ask, already frowning.
“Oh, um, actually I don’t know?” she says with a shrug, like it’s no big deal.
My jaw tightens.
That’s a problem.
A big one.
She can’t be doing shit like that.
Not here.
Not alone.
Not when anything can happen.
I cut that thought off before it spirals.
Still, I make a mental note.
Electronic keypad lock. Auto-lock feature. Something secure.
I can install it myself.
Easy fix.
No more worrying about someone just walking in on her.
No more worrying, period.
At least not unless I’m in there with her.
Because yes, that’s happening.
I step inside, taking in her apartment—and for a second, everything else fades.
It’s small.
Too small for us. For her.
But it’s just so her, and I can’t help but grin.
Everywhere—I can see it. Pieces of Hadley that she put into making this place a home.
The air smells like vanilla and something floral—light, sweet, comforting.
The walls are painted this soft creamy white, and there are frames hanging up—pressed wildflowers, delicate and pretty, like she picked them herself and couldn’t bear to throw them away.
Long, gauzy curtains drift in the breeze from an open window.
Another thing I don’t like.
Not the curtains—those are cute as fuck.
But who the hell leaves their windows open like that?
Anyone could—shit.
I clamp down on that thought too, but it doesn’t stop the protective edge sharpening inside me.
She needs better locks.
Better windows.
Better everything.
My gaze tracks her as she moves through the space, setting her keys down, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear like she’s trying to act normal.
Like I’m not standing in her apartment.
Like I didn’t just carry her bags upstairs without asking.
“You can put those down in here,” she says, glancing back at me.
I follow her.
And the second I step into her bedroom?
Yeah.
That’s it.
That’s the moment when my control starts slipping.
Her bed is right there.
Sheets a little rumpled, like she made it in a hurry.
Pillows soft and inviting.
The faintest hint of her scent is just clinging to everything.
My Tiger rumbles.
Low.
Possessive.
Hungry.
Mine.
I set the bags down slowly, my gaze dragging across the room, taking in every detail like I’m committing it to memory.
Because this?
This is her space.
Her safe place.
And now I’m standing in it.
Something shifts in my chest.
Something deeper than instinct.
I turn back to her.
She’s hovering near the doorway, arms crossed now like she’s remembering she’s supposed to be mad at me.
“Okay,” she says, lifting her chin. “You brought the bags up. Great. Gold star for you. Now what?”
I take a step toward her.
She doesn’t move.
Another step.
Her breath hitches—just a little.
“Now?” I repeat, voice rougher than before.
My Tiger prowls under my skin, pleased.
“Now we talk.”
Her eyes narrow.
“Oh, we’re talking? That’s funny. Because last time we ‘talked,’ you told me you didn’t want me.”
Ouch.
But I know I deserve it, so I take it like a man.
I scrub a hand down my jaw, exhaling slowly.
“I never said I didn’t want you, Cookie. But what I did say? Well, I was wrong about that. Very wrong.”
The words feel strange coming out.
Heavy.
Real.
Her brows lift, clearly not expecting that.
“Wow,” she says dryly. “That must’ve hurt.”
“What? I can admit when I’m wrong, Cookie.”
I take another step closer, lowering my voice.
“Yeah? How am I supposed to trust you?” she asks, her voice soft and unsure.
“Because you can trust me, Hadley. You know you can. And I know one thing for sure now.”
Her gaze flickers—just for a second—to my mouth, then back up to my eyes.
“And what’s that?” she asks.
I hold her gaze.
Steady.
Certain.
“That I’m not walking away from you, Cookie.”
The room goes quiet.
The breeze shifts the curtains behind us.
And my Tiger?
He settles in deep.
Because for the first time since this whole mess started—he knows exactly where we’re supposed to be.
Mine.