It was late by the time he arrived in Manhattan. He parked his bike a block away and decided to watch Muccino’s from across the street, hidden in the shadows of an awning of a bookshop that had closed hours ago. The lights were still on, but he could see the number of diners were dwindling.
He remained there, watching as the restaurant emptied, the lights turned off, and the staff began to trickle out. Finally, the front door opened and Isabelle came out as usual and he held his breath. Tonight, she was dressed in a T-shirt, light jacket, black boots, and tight jeans that molded to her ass. As she locked the door and gave it a test wiggle, a bright red sports bike rolled out from the alley next to Muccino’s and stopped in front of the restaurant.
Isabelle waved her hand at the driver as she walked toward him. Ransom recognized the driver as the guy from the other night—Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome Fuckface. He handed Isabelle a helmet, and she put it on and hopped on behind him.
His chest went all hot and tight. She didn’t want to ride with him the other night, but she’d get behind this asshole on a fucking crotch rocket? Seething anger blazed through him, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. When Isabelle wrapped her arms around Fuckface and cozied up to him, his wolf let out a savage snarl.
“I’m going to kill him,” he muttered as he dashed to his bike. He had never been so glad for his enhanced speed as he was now, and soon he was able to catch up to them. While he did stay a good distance behind, he didn’t lose them. It was like his primal hunting instinct allowed him to track them even though they were a tiny dot a few blocks ahead.
It was already late, and if they headed anywhere else other than The Enclave, he would catch up to them and rip Fuckface’s head off and shove it up his ass. That tightness in his chest eased as they headed uptown and west. As they neared The Enclave, he slowed down and then stopped a block away.
Isabelle hopped off the bike and handed the helmet back to him. As she was about to turn away, he grabbed her hand and tugged her back. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear that made her smile before she pulled away and headed inside.
A primal, potent fury burned through him. That son of a bitch! His wolf urged him to go after the other male. And Ransom was tempted, he really was. But he couldn’t act on instinct like he did when he was younger. While he wanted to see that asshole roughed up, no way was he going to do more time in the slammer. That bastard wasn’t worth it.
He told himself he was going to stay away from her, that this was getting too messy. God help him, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from wanting to be near her. Not even after all this time. He was drawn to her, but it was more than that. There was a need inside him, to ward off anyone who dared try get near, and to make her truly his.
And maybe, he was done fighting himself.
Chapter Nine
“C’mon now, Evan, one last bite,” she urged as she placed a spoonful of mashed peas in front of his lips. Eagerly, he opened his mouth and swallowed it all down. “Good boy. Now”—she put her hands on her hips—“maybe next time we can get more in you than on you?”
The entire front of his shirt—and hers—was stained with bits of green from his lunch. Evan somehow thought it was funny when he spit out the food and then flung it at her. “What am I going to do with you, young man?”
“Looks like he takes after his mom. I seem to remember you didn’t like eating your greens either.”
Whirling around at the sound of the familiar voice, she let out an excited yelp. “Papa!” She ran to him and jumped into his arms. His familiar scent—ocean salt spray—filled her with nostalgia and made her throat burn. “I’m sorry I didn’t come see you last night when you arrived,” she said as she pulled away. “I came home late from work.”
Grant Anderson smiled down at her. The fine lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes and the silver at his temples were the only indication of his age. Despite having stepped down as Alpha, there was still that power and dominance that exuded from him. A lion in the winter of his days, but whose strength had yet to erode. “Hello sweetheart, it’s nice to see you. And how’s my goose?” he said, using his nickname for Evan.
Recognizing his grandfather, Evan waved excitedly at Grant, swaying from side to side. Isabelle immediately rushed over and picked him up before the highchair could tip over. “Are you happy to see Grandpa?” she cooed and walked over to Grant with Evan in her arms. “Mama messaged me this morning and said I can come in late because she’s going to be at Muccino’s while you’re at Fenrir. So, what’re you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you and Evan before I headed to the office. Hello, goosie goose.” He took the baby from her arms and kissed him on the check, then tossed him in the air. Evan giggled uncontrollably, and Isabelle’s heart stopped until her father caught him again. “I missed you so much. Did you miss me?”
Isabelle couldn’t help but smile as she watched her father with her son. She could still remember his initial reaction when she told him she was pregnant. There was anger and displeasure for sure, and then the disappointment in his eyes afterwards. It was something she could never forget. Sure, she’d done
