Big feelings. Bad ideas. Boyfriends who bite.

My delivery guy hates Christmas. He’s taking my elf costume surprisingly well.

Our mayor wants to close the Christmas market, and the other traders and I have two weeks to prove it’s worth keeping. I could use a little holiday magic.

David Snowden comes with antlers and several complaints.

The reindeer shifter is home for a quieter life, delivering parcels to my boutique and insisting he’s had enough small-town Christmas nonsense.

Naturally, I invite him to the market.

He keeps saying yes, which makes his position on festive cheer increasingly difficult to take seriously. Especially when he starts finding reasons to see me after work.

I’m trying to respect his grumpy dignity. His reindeer side makes that difficult by nudging my hand whenever I stop scratching his forehead.

Between helping save the market and running my boutique, I really don’t have time to develop a weakness for a man who critiques my ridiculous headband.

Unfortunately, I’ve already called him adorable.

He seems determined to kiss that word out of my vocabulary. I’m willing to let him try.

My ex wanted a wolf mate. I wanted him to regret it.

Organizing his shifter family’s sprawling estate could save my business. Fake-dating their hottest wolf is a personal bonus.

Garrett Reynolds needs his relatives to stop matchmaking. I need a date for an anniversary party featuring my ex and his smug new girlfriend.

Our rules: look convincing, keep it PG, absolutely no kissing.

Then she insults me for being human, and Garrett kisses me like he’s been waiting months.

Apparently, he has.

Now we’re sharing a bathroom, bending our rules, and finding excuses to touch when nobody’s watching.

Making my ex jealous was easy.

Believing Garrett wants me for keeps? That’s harder.

Because I’m falling for him—and the whole affectionate, intrusive pack I lost once already.

This started with wanting my ex to look.

Now I want Garrett to stay.

I called Animal Control on my roommate. He’s being annoyingly attractive about it.

Sam Hesswick was supposed to be overseas. Instead, he’s in my kitchen with four paws and my sandwich turkey in his mouth.

His sister mentioned the shared bathroom. She left out the wolf.

Now we’re negotiating grocery space, sharing crosswords, and pretending I haven’t started looking forward to coming home specifically because he’s there.

Between his cooking and our evenings reading together, Sam is making a persuasive case for having a roommate. Those button-down shirts aren’t hurting, either, and his wolf has discovered I’m willing to scratch behind his ears.

I’m trying to maintain some dignity. He keeps putting his head in my lap.

Then he asks me on a date, and I stop pretending this is entirely about the convenient rent.

Unfortunately, falling for Sam also means getting acquainted with his pack. Some of them welcome me. Others would prefer their handsome Gamma found someone with fewer objections to wolves in the kitchen.

I can handle a little territorial behavior.

What I can’t handle is being wanted at home and quietly left out everywhere else.

Sam’s made sharing an apartment dangerously easy.

If he wants me to stay, he’s going to have to get the difficult part right.