4
LANDRY
Present Day
Whoa.
Just, whoa. Caitlyn Shriver, the pain-in-our-ass scientist, was hot as hell.
Fuck, she was even prettier than Wade had described. Prettier than the pictures I’d seen of her online. A tiny thing, she didn’t even reach our shoulders. I caught the strawberry-spice scent of her Wade had described on the soft breeze. One inhale, and that was it.
We were so f****d.
Wade had been right. One hint of her scent, and I knew she was the one. Our mate.
I’d known pairs to find their mate. It happened often enough—my parents included. Still, it hadn’t seemed possible for me. But Wade had found her in Granger. Or, better yet, she had found us. Which meant Fate had intervened. If one believed in s**t like that. Which, after today, I was inclined to.
And what an ironic b*
