It had gone well, too. Raph liked to think he’d been a great brother to them both, looking out for them at school, keeping the bullies away from Wyatt and Penny. He’d helped Wyatt with his homework, and Penny with her craft projects. Then Wyatt had turned fourteen, and his behavior around Raph had changed.
It wasn’t like Raph had turned him away. He’d still held hands when Wyatt wanted to. He’d accompanied Wyatt through his piano lessons. When he’d stayed up late to study for his exams, Wyatt had sneaked down to the kitchen to make him sandwiches.
When Wyatt turned seventeen, he’d started to sidle up to Raph. At eighteen, he’d taken to burying his face in Raph’s chest, his breath tickling Raph’s skin through his shirt. Raph had breathed in Wyatt’s scent, familiar and warm and good.
He’d never felt the same way about Penny, even though she was omega, too. Just Wyatt. Which had made it more confusing, because they were all supposed to be siblings.
Last week, Raph had discovered that Wyatt’s scent was more than good. It had smelled delicious. The sex had been mind-blowing, and Wyatt had pressed up close against him, trusting, even though they hadn’t spoken in years. Raph hadn’t shared that kind of intimacy with any other omega he’d slept with.
He sighed, pulling his key from the ignition. No sense in counting his regrets.
He was about to step out of the car when the front door of the diner crashed open. A girl flew out in roller skates, wearing elbow and shin guards, and an egg-yellow apron. She looked nine, maybe ten. Raph recognized her blond ponytail from the pictures on Facebook.
She skated up to the driver’s side window, notebook and pen in hand, and a bright smile on her face. Hazel, her name tag read. Wyatt’s daughter.
Wyatt had a daughter from someone else, other than Raph. Raph knew that. But it still made the possessive instincts in him growl. Wasn’t the kid’s fault, though, and it wasn’t Wy’s, either.
Wyatt wasn’t his. Could never be.
Raph cracked the car door open, waiting for her to move out of the way. With deft turns of her feet, Hazel skated backward, beaming when he climbed out of the car. “Would you prefer a seat inside? You were out here a while—I thought you wanted a drive-in meal.”
“I’m here to see Wy. Wyatt.” The girl looked like her omega father—Raph liked that. Didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
“Oh! Are you Uncle Raph?” Hazel studied him, tucking her notebook into her apron pocket. “Aunt Penny told Dad you were coming to visit.”
Penny, you loudmouth.
“You shouldn’t make assumptions about who I am, kid,” Raph said. But he couldn’t help smiling when she grinned and beckoned for him to follow. “Don’t trust people you don’t know!”
“Dad tells me that all the time,” Hazel said, glancing around the parking lot. There were a few parked cars with their windows rolled down and trays clipped on the doors—their occupants ate from bowls of hot soup, dark strands of vegetables a contrast against the pale noodles.
Hazel skated across the road, waiting for him to catch up.
“Your dad’s right,” Raph said. “I’m surprised he lets you work at the diner.”
“I’m just helping out.” She beamed, so damn innocent that Raph wanted to usher her back into the diner, and tell Wyatt to hire an actual waitress to tend to the patrons. “If I’m good, Dad lets me cook in the kitchen.”
“What?” Raph said. Seriously?
“Just eggs.” Hazel pouted. “But he’s been letting me help with the stewed pork.”
“Doesn’t seem appropriate for you to be working in a commercial kitchen,” Raph said as they reached the diner’s front doors.
“I’m learning for my future. Dad says it’s important to have a good one.” Hazel looked up at him with serious eyes, and part of Raph melted.
He was about to say, You’re a good kid, when Hazel pulled the door open, sucked in a deep breath, and hollered, “Dad!”
Not the entrance Raph had planned.
A handful of patrons looked over. Raph grimaced. “I don’t need to be announced, princess.”
Hazel grinned. “You do. Dad’s been anxious all morning. I think he was waiting to see you.”
Raph’s stomach flopped and sank. That was bad news, wasn’t it? Aside from a pregnancy, he couldn’t imagine why else Wyatt would be anxious. He stepped into the diner with Hazel.
Wy’s Drive-In didn’t just have a spacious parking lot for its patrons; inside the diner, elegant latticework separated the rows of wide, cushioned booths. The walls were all wood paneling, polished and dark, adorned with hanging tapestries and calligraphy. Pots of bamboo lined the waiting area by the front door, and plain square flags hung above the counter, where patrons could watch as the chefs stirred steaming pots of soup.
The scent of savory broth masked the flowery, woodsy scents of the patrons—Raph could almost be anonymous here.
“He’s taking a while,” Hazel said, peering around Raph.
Before he could move, Wyatt hurried out of a narrow hallway at the back of the restaurant, a crinkle on his forehead. His eyes found Hazel first. Then he glanced up at Raph, and his footsteps faltered. His throat worked.
“Is it true you haven’t talked to him in nine years?” Hazel whispered.
Raph wanted to kill Penny, but the sight of Wyatt drowned those thoughts away.
Wyatt was dressed in a button-down shirt and black pants, his feet wrapped in a pair of black sports shoes. In the warm light of the diner, his hair gleamed, his chest heaving a little. He looked good. Surprised. A little upset. And Raph was taken aback at how well he could read Wyatt, even after all these years.
Wyatt forced a smile. “Thanks, Hazel. You should be doing your homework now, shouldn’t you?”
“But
