Faith

My little cabin looked directly out onto the beach. Not a single tree obscured the breathtaking view of the ocean, and what I was told to be Angel Cay, which was owned by some rock star, apparently. Must be nice.

The breeze that swept off the water smelled like paradise. The tantalizing scent of salty sea, coconut oil, and something else that tickled my senses. Something warm and spicy that I couldn't identify.

I settled down in a beach chair and kicked my feet up on the little table that sat out on my porch. I already felt better. Much better than I expected. Maybe, for once, Birdie was right. I took a sip of my morning coffee and picked up my Kindle.

Just a little shifter romance before I started my day. Being divorced and on my romantic getaway alone would not interrupt my morning ritual.

As I drank my coffee, I felt the rest of the cay wake up. The sounds of people moving about filtered across the island and brought back the anxiety of being alone. I'd never been anywhere alone. I had gone from my parents' house to college, then I got married. I had never lived by myself, let alone gone on vacation solo.

Birdie said it would be a wonderful change, I reminded myself. And I was already enjoying the tranquility with my morning coffee on the beach. It was so different from the quiet of the house first thing in the morning; that kind of quiet felt empty. On the beach, it was full of life. I shook out my shoulders and picked my Kindle back up. It was going to be fine.

I finished my coffee to the rhythm of lumberjack bear shifters finding their perfect mates. And a bit of watching the early beach-goers settling in. I even took a break to watch as three extremely well-proportioned men ran down the beach together.

Just appreciating the view.

There was an odd pull below my belly as I watched their tight backsides disappear from view. A warmth in places that had seen no action from anyone but me in months.

And it had been months. Longer than just the separation and the divorce proceedings. There were so many red flags that I had ignored. I shook my head and gathered up my Kindle and empty coffee cup. I was heading back inside when out of nowhere, I hit a brick wall.

Cupid

She was perfect.

That was the only thought I had in my head as I steadied the little minx that had collided with me.

She was adorable.

A pert little nose nestled just over lush, warm lips. Lips that I wanted to bite. I wanted to sink my teeth into the pillowy softness of that pouty bottom lip and never let go.

"Oh, gosh." Her hands came up to push at my chest. I hadn't even realized that I was still holding her. "I'm so sorry. Good thing I finished my coffee already."

I slowly let her out of my embrace. Just making sure she was steady on her feet, I told myself. But then the breeze kicked up and brought with it the most beautiful scent as it ruffled her long brown locks. My animal sat up and kicked at my insides.

Mate.

No, man. I pushed him back down and shook my head. We're not made for a mate.

Mate.

I huffed and fought down the urge to pull her back into my arms. I watched as she bent and started picking up the broken pieces of her mug. "Shit." I dropped to my knees and took the sharp ceramic shards from her. "I didn't even see you."

"No, it's completely my fault." The scent of cinnamon and vanilla teased at my senses as she let me take the shattered shards from her hands. Her skin was like silk beneath my rough fingertips. "I didn't look where I was going."

"Well, my dear, I believe we are at an impasse." I gathered the last of the pieces into my hand and stood. "Let me take you to lunch, just to apologise."

"Oh." Shock colored her porcelain skin, with just a hint of a blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks. God, she was beautiful. "That's unnecessary." She reached back for the ceramic fragments in my hand, but I pulled it back from her reach.

"I insist."

"Will you give me the mug back if I agree?" She folded her arms across her chest and raised a brow. Danger Will Robinson. I robotically handed her the jagged pieces.

"Nope, just want lunch with a fetchingly beautiful woman." I dusted off my hands and shoved one in my pocket. "If it makes you feel better, my buddies can join us."

"I can't have lunch with you." She stooped and grabbed her tablet. "We don't know each other."

"And what better way to make new friends than to share a meal?" What the fuck? I sounded like Vix. I shook my head, and I held out a hand. "My friends call me Cupid."

She looked at my hand for a moment, hesitating, and then burst out laughing. "That's the worst pickup line ever."

"Not a pickup line." I winked at her as she abruptly stopped laughing. She eyed me suspiciously. I shrugged and kept my hand out for her to take. "It's my name. Well, my call sign."

"Military?" she asked, finally putting her hand in mine. I curled my fingers around her small hand and didn't want to let go.

"Something like that." I grinned when she didn't pull her fingers from mine. "And you are?"

She stared down at our joined hands, swallowing hard. That pretty blush coming back up and dusting her cheeks. "Faith." Her ocean blue eyes finally met mine, and my animal rolled over to show her his belly. He wanted her. Wanted her touch, her scent, all over our skin. "I'm Faith. It's nice to meet you Cupid." Faith took her hand out of mine, and I instantly felt the loss. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get rid of this." She held up the broken mug and went to leave.

I caught her elbow and spun her back to me. "Please come have lunch with me and my friends." The scent of cinnamon was addling my brain. My animal was all but pawing at my chest, making my heart slam hard as I looked down at her. "Just lunch."

"Okay." Faith said a little breathlessly. "Just lunch."

"Good." I squeezed her arm where I still held it and grinned. My animal settled inside of me.

We had secured a date with our mate.

Not our mate, I insisted, but he just ignored me.

"I'll pick you up at noon." Fuck, I was a goner.

AUTHORS NOTE: I hope you all enjoyed reading chapter 2. Please consider leaving a like or a comment. More next week...