I think Faraway Match might be the sweetest, hot AF 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 story I’ve ever read – well at least in a while. 😊 I always enjoy reading books by Roe Horvat but this one really touched me on a lot of levels.

I love dogs and I think Norman’s dog, Pretzel, added a lot to this story. He provided a way for Norman and Bentley to bond at first and get over the awkwardness of their first in-person meeting. He also provided comic relief at times.

Norman was hurt when his previous partner left without any warning and it’s made him leery of getting involved with another omega but he wants a partner and children. Bentley lives in the city but doesn’t really like all of the hustle and bustle and noise. The agency finding his perfect match in a remote area didn’t bother him at all, but it did take him a little bit to convince Norman that he liked where he lives.

I liked everything about this book and below are a couple of reasons why.

There was one passage that had me laughing really hard. When I was a kid, flip-flops were called thongs. I really don’t remember when that term came to mean something entirely different but this made me LOL – here’s the set-up: Norman and Bentley have borrowed a small boat for the day…

“Georgie’s Thong?” Bentley exclaimed as he read the sign on the side of the boat. “Let me guess. Cary named it.”
“George is from Australia, so Cary meant the flip-flop. Because George is huge, and his feet are massive.” I stepped into the boat and offered Bentley my hand.
“But he was well aware how most folks here would read it.”
“Of course he was.”
“I’m taking a trip in George’s Thong.” He chuckled as he settled on the middle bench and put our backpacks in front of him. “What now?”

And this passage made me applaud the guys for being smart. It’s not something often acknowledged in romance but I’m glad Roe put it in this book:

“Luckily, before fucking like bunnies, we’d laid a towel under us. We’d started doing that after having to change the sheets two times in one day.”

So often changing the sheets (usually on a king size bed) is made out to be quick and easy. Not in my world! 😊 Anyway, I know romance is kind of for escaping from real life but I appreciated that the more realistic thing was acknowledged.

In this omegaverse world I think the idea of a matchmaking service based on pheromone and personality compatibility was a brilliant idea. I’ve only read – and loved – the two books that Roe Horvat has written but I’m now interested in reading more of the stories in this series of standalone books.

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NSFW!!
I peered at the rain outside and didn’t spot Norman or Pretzel anywhere. They must still be off in the forest. I dialed Gigi.

“Hi! You’re not dead!” he yelled.

I winced at his high-pitched squeal. “Hi, Gigi. How come you’re up so early? It’s Sunday.”

“Don’t even get me started. Skye is dragging me to a fucking yoga class. At nine in the morning on a weekend. Can you believe it?”

“Why did you agree, then?”

“Eh. I need that flexibility. Imagine how wide I’ll be able to spread that gorgeous ass.”

I laughed. With his underwear-model body, seductive lips, and giant green eyes, Gigi was attractive as hell. Even though most people thought he was a lot to take, he was irresistible at the same time. And he knew how to use his charm to get what he wanted.

“Anyway, spill. Did you fuck already? How was he?”

“I’m not answering that. I’m only calling you because you threatened me with cops.”

“Ah. So you haven’t. What is he? A quaker? Is that why the place is called Quack Lake?”

“I said I’m not telling you,” I cried, exasperated. I checked the window again, but luckily, Norman hadn’t yet returned from Pretzel’s morning walk.

“Skye! They’ve done something but haven’t fucked,” Gigi called away from the phone. “Yeah. I know! We need to help him out.”

I plonked down on the kitchen chair with my head in my hands. “I don’t need any help. I’m fine. Norman is lovely, and I’m having a great time.”

“I’m putting you on speaker,” Gigi announced all businesslike, ignoring me entirely. “Say hi, Skye.”

“Hi, Bentley. He hasn’t made a move? It’s been days.”

“Hi,” I mumbled, resigned.

“Listen, pumpkin,” Gigi began. “Tonight, wear loose pants.”

“Loose? Why?” Skye interrupted.

“Shut up. Bentley, loose pants, breathy material. Ask to have a drink and spill some on your shirt. Say you need to change and go to your room. Then strip and play with yourself. Finger your ass, jerk off, whatever works best for you. Get the slick flowing, you hear me? Then you smear that sweet love syrup of yours all around your ass and on your inner thighs. When you can smell yourself properly, wipe some of it on your neck.”

“Gross, Gigi. You’re shameless,” I said. There was no way in hell I was doing any of that.

“Love, it’s bulletproof. Always works, trust me. When you’re pungent with horny juice, put your pants back on and walk out all casual. He’s going to have you against the wall in two minutes flat. Bonus points, you’ll be all prepped and loose already.”

“That’s actually solid tactics,” Skye said thoughtfully. “I haven’t tried that.”

“Thank you so much for your unsolicited advice, dear friends,” I said sarcastically. “I have to be going now. I’m doing very well, thank you for asking. Enjoy your yoga class.”

“Call me tomorrow. I expect a dick report!” Gigi yelled.

“Bye, Bentley,” Skye said. “Enjoy.”

“Bye, guys.”

I turned off the sound on my phone and poured myself a second cup of coffee. Just as I opened the fridge to look at what we could make for breakfast, the main door opened.

“Bentley, I need to go,” Norman said from the hall.

I rounded the corner. “What happened?”

He crouched in his long raincoat, water dripping from his hat, and was toweling off Pretzel. The dog obviously loved the process because he was wriggling excitedly, pushing his head into Norman’s hands, and his tail was making spirals.

“Black bears coming too close to a home. I have a family in someone’s yard.”

“You mean a bear family?”

“A mama and two cubs. The people locked themselves inside. They’re from St. James and are renting the cottage for the weekend.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Haze them.” He stood and hung Pretzel’s harness on a hook. “Sorry, buddy, you’re staying,” he said to the dog.

I blinked. “Haze? You’re not going there to expose the city people to some weird mountain folks initiation ritual, are you?”

He laughed, the tension in his face melting away. “Hazing the bears. It means scaring them away so they’d leave.”

“Oh. Good. So you’re not going to shoot them.”

He frowned. “Of course not.”

“Phew. Can I come with?”

Norman hesitated. “Yes, but you might have to stay in the truck.”

“But I might see a bear. I’m in.”

“Take your rain jacket.”

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