“Your stepdad is a werewolf?”
“Yep.” She smiled at the shocked look on his face as he watched Dad pull out of the parking space and drive away.
“What Pack?”
“He’s a Rogue. He hasn’t been in a Pack since he met my mom. Ready? I’m cold.”
He turned automatically and guided her to the door with a light touch on the small of her back. He opened the door, but she didn’t miss it—he was still staring at the street with a confused look on his face.
“Wait, so you were raised by a werewolf?” he asked.
“And a human. Both worlds.”
“And that’s why you approached me yesterday?”
“I approached you because you were alone and I was afraid the restaurant was making you sit outside on purpose. Some of the places around here try to pull that shit with my dad.”
“You call him Dad and not stepdad.”
“He’s the only dad I know. I don’t know my real dad. He bounced when I was six months old and never contacted me. My mom tried to get him involved for a while, but the family life wasn’t his gig.”
“You have zero emotion in your voice while you’re saying this,” he pointed out.
“Hi,” she told the hostess. “The bartender said we could have the table by the window at eight.”
“Well, it’s about to be sat right now, sorry,” she said, her eyes on Dodger’s face.
Dodger gave her a snake’s smile, and grabbed Destiny’s hand, then led her past the gawking host. He led her directly to the table, where the bartender was clearly talking to the hostess seating a four top at their table. He nodded to Dodger and told the hostess, “See? They’re here. I can serve these nice people at any other table but this one.”
Dodger pulled a chair out for Destiny right in front of the grumpy looking foursome. They were about their age and seemed to be on some sort of double date.
“He’s a werewolf,” a blond said, like that was supposed to mean something.
The hostess shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what’s happening.”
“We want to talk to the manager,” she said, looking disgusted. Her man looked uncomfortable and said under his breath, “Let’s just go somewhere else.”
“Bye,” Dodger said in a growly voice.
Destiny pursed her lips against a smile to hide it and looked down at the table as Dodger took his seat across from her.
“Beer?” the bartender asked as the foursome walked away to another table across the room.
“Two of them. Same as yesterday.”
The bartender, Byron, his nametag read, nodded and headed back to his workstation at the bar.
The blond was glaring at Dodger from across the room, and Destiny leaned forward to block her line of sight and glared back.
The woman broke eye contact first. Destiny rolled her eyes and shook her head as she returned her attention to the menu.
“You’re a spicy human,” he said, a slight smile transforming his handsome face.
“I don’t like rude people.”
“When did your stepdad meet your mom?”
“So curious about the werewolf side of my life,” she teased.
