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 I wanna say hi to the guests,” Hazel said, smiling up at Wyatt with her hands clasped. “Please?”
Raph wouldn’t be able to say no to those eyes. Apparently, neither could Wyatt.
“All right,” Wyatt said, sighing. “But you’ll take off that apron at five!”
“Will do,” Hazel sang, turning on her skates. She sailed out the front door, and Wyatt and Raph both watched as she circled the parking lot, keeping tabs on the patrons.
“So,” Raph said, glancing at his stepbrother.
“We’ll talk in my office.” Wyatt met his eyes, then waved at one of the chefs behind the counter. “Sam—I’ll be gone for fifteen. Keep an eye on Hazel, please?”
“Sure,” Sam said, looking hard at Raph for a second. Raph felt as though he was being graded against a checklist. Then, Sam nodded. “You know she’ll be in good hands!”
Wyatt turned, leading the way through the diner. His shoulders were thin, his hips narrow, and his pants hugged his ass. Raph took a deep breath, trying to shake his memories away.
Wyatt was a good dad—Raph saw it in the way Wyatt looked at his daughter, the way he watched out for her safety. The way he was polite to everyone, his stride confident, his expression friendly, even when he wasn’t feeling his best.
He had grown in the years since Raph had last seen him, and Raph wanted to know more. Wanted to see how Wyatt had fared since that bastard Max had kicked him out, leaving him homeless and pregnant.
Wyatt was in pretty bad shape when he stayed over at my place, one of Wy’s Facebook friends had said. He had a few bruises on his arms. I told him he could stay for longer, but he left after a week.
Raph had saved those conversations in case they were ever needed. But gods, the thought of some alpha hurting Wyatt... Raph wanted to hit something. Or someone.
They strode to the back of the diner, to the hallway Wyatt had emerged from. Past the bathrooms, Wyatt stopped at a plain wooden door, pulling out a key. “Wait in here for a moment?”
“Sure,” Raph said.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Wyatt stepped past him to the nearest bathroom, his eyes solemn.
Raph watched as he disappeared past the swinging door. Why were you anxious to see me?
Unlike the dining area, the office was small, cramped, and barely fitted a desk. Stacked cardboard boxes stood against the walls, and a desk filled the rest of the space, its surface buried beneath a laptop, stationery, and sheets of purchase orders. There was a single office chair behind the desk, and none for visitors—not that Wyatt would expect many people in here.
Raph shoved his hands in his pockets, breathing in the trace of magnolia in the air.
A few framed photos hung around the room—Wyatt with Hazel at an amusement park, Wyatt with Penny and Hazel in a forest, Wyatt with Hazel and the chef, Sam, at a beach.
Was Wyatt seeing anyone? Raph realized that he didn’t know. He hadn’t smelled another alpha’s scent on Wyatt’s skin, but Wyatt’s alpha could’ve been away. Or was that Sam guy his boyfriend?
The door opened just as something rolled through Raph’s gut, hot and fierce. I can’t be jealous over my brother. Raph turned, eyebrows rising when Wyatt stepped around him, gingerly holding a stick between layers of toilet paper. A pregnancy test kit.
His stomach flipped. “Are you...?”
Wyatt’s lips thinned. “Penny says I am. I... I think I might be. We’ll see what this says.”
Wyatt set the stick down on the desk, its wet end capped in clear pink plastic. The windows on the kit were still blank. Raph tried to ignore his thudding pulse; instead, he looked at Wyatt’s lips, the way they were pink and damp, and so very kissable.
He wasn’t in a rut anymore, but he couldn’t help this attraction, the way his instincts told him how right Wyatt was.
He was a sick, sick person for thinking that. For possibly getting his brother pregnant.
“Fuck,” Raph muttered, stepping closer. Why was he so damn attracted to Wy? “If it’s—If it’s positive, are you keeping it?”
At that question, the uncertainty in Wyatt’s eyes vanished. “Yeah.”
Raph swore.
“You’ve seen Hazel,” Wyatt said, lifting his chin. “I can’t abandon my child.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Raph said. Wyatt wanted to keep
