The Fox and her Bear (Mating Call Dating Agency, #2) Read Online Free

granted.
    “No,” she said. “Maybe. I’m not sure. Do you?” this was followed by a long, trailing giggle. He could always tell when someone wasn’t in their element, and this lady was definitely not. She had a certain elegance and grace to her that didn’t seem to make a lot of sense in this old, wood paneled joint. “I’m Yvette.”
    She stuck out her hand, and Daws shook it. “Nice to meet you ma’am, you doing all right? Seem a little liquor-struck.”
    “Oh you know,” she said, exhaling with a sigh. “Sometimes life just makes you need a drink, yanno?”
    “I hear you,” Dawson said. He patted her shoulder. The woman had enormous eyes, almost comically so. And when she turned her head it went further than he was used to seeing a person’s head turn. “So, what brings you in tonight?”
    “Huh? Oh, aren’t you busy or something?”
    “Nah, last call’s in about ten minutes. People don’t normally get too interested in piano music at this point. And if they do have the wherewithal to ask, they always want to hear Freebird . And, uh, yeah, I’ll break a nose before I play Freebird again. So, what’s shakin’?”
    She shrugged. “To be honest with you, I was just looking for someone. I’ve been running low on bears in my Rolodex and I don’t think I’ve ever met one of you that could actually play a piano without breaking it.”
    Dawson shot her a confused, cocked eyebrow. “For your... Rolodex?”
    “Oh, right,” Yvette said. “I run a dating service. Mating Call. Heard of it?”
    Dawson nodded to Tenner, who deposited a thick, oily-looking stout on top of his bear paw coaster on the piano. Taking the mug in his hand, the bear took a small swallow, then a longer, deeper one. “No,” he finally said. “I don’t get out much. How does it work?”
    “The dating agency?” Yvette accidentally laughed. “Sorry. That’s just not something I generally have to explain. A girl calls, a guy comes in for an interview, and when we find two that match, we... match ‘em. Mate ‘em, whatever you want to call it.”
    Immediately, Dawson’s thoughts started wandering, the way they always did. It was the green-eyed girl again. Her nose was small, round, perfect. Her cheeks were sort of thin, and her flame-red hair framed a face covered in freckles. It was like she was inches away from him, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t touch her, couldn’t take her hand.
    Yvette slapped him on the shoulder, jolting him out of the short fantasy. “You keep doin’ that, buddy,” she said. “It’s like you’re daydreamin’ about... hey, wait a minute.” Her eyes started sparkling with something that even not knowing her, Dawson immediately recognized as ‘hatching a plan.’ “You with anyone? No, you’re not, what am I saying?”
    He scrunched his eyes, wrinkling his forehead. “What are you talking about? How do you know I’m not seeing anyone?”
    “You’ve got a blue shirt and slightly less blue pants. No self-respecting girl would ever let you leave the house like that.”
    Dawson looked down. “They look the same to me,” he said. “But wait a second, how do you know I’d live with whoever it was I was dating?”
    “You’re a bear, bears like to make very strong decisions without much thought. Thankfully it usually works out for the best.”
    He shrugged. “Okay so even if you—”
    “Look, this is what I do for a living.” She plunked a card down beside the half-full beer glass. “When do you usually wake up?”
    “I help Tenner clean, get to bed around four. Usually up about noon. Why?”
    She smiled. “Because you’re coming in to my place tomorrow at one-thirty. Address is right there. I’m going to interview you, and we’ll find you someone that’ll match those pants for you.”
    “I, uh,” Dawson was stumbling over himself like his lip was lying on the ground. Tenner, for his part, was laughing almost hysterically. He was just about purple. “Hey! Wait! I