He rose up, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and pulling it on as he smiled at the two humans.
“It was nice meeting you, Annie.” He turned to Dylan. “Thanks for the invite. I’ll see you around?”
Dylan nodded. “Absolutely.”
Steve grinned, grabbing his helmet and tucking it under his arm as he gave the two humans a little wave goodbye and walked toward the exit. He was just about to head out the door when he spotted a familiar face sitting at a small table next to the wall.
That was Betty Wiltshire, one of the humans who worked for his dad. She’d toned down her jewelry, and she’d foregone her usual curls, but it was undeniably her.
Steve wouldn’t have seen her face if he hadn’t caught her reflection in the mirror by the counter when she turned her head. She was looking at her phone, seemingly minding her own business, but Steve knew better.
There was no way her presence in the same city that he’d run off to was a coincidence. He debated going over to her and making a scene, but since she didn’t seem to have noticed him noticing her, he decided not to.
Besides, confronting Betty would gain him nothing. He knew she was there to report back on him to his dad, and that she in all probability resented the job. From what Steve remembered, she had been something of a homebody. She ran a quirky little store in Fairbanks, selling knitting supplies, pottery, and sweaters her sister made for her store.
She was the last person Steve would have thought would take up spying – which was probably why his dad chose her. Despite her quirky fashion sense, Betty was easily overlooked in a crowd.
He wondered how long she’d been in town, and whether or not she was the only person his dad had sent to keep track of him.
As both a werewolf and a police officer, it would be hugely embarrassing for Steve if he’d been under observation and not noticed it. If his dad ever asked, Steve would insist that he’d noticed his stalker – or stalkers – and simply chosen to ignore them. If he was lucky, his dad would play along with the lie and let him salvage some of his dignity.
Exiting the store, Steve made his way to the street where he’d parked his motorcycle. He looked around, studying the faces of the humans who passed him by to see if he recognized any of them.
He did not.
As he mounted his bike, Steve sat back and was struck by the realization that he wasn’t actually upset. He was annoyed that he hadn’t noticed that he was being watched, but not by the underlying invasion of privacy. Instead, Steve actually felt settled. This was one more way in which his father was showing him that, despite his harsh words and the ultimatum that had chased him off, Steve was still a part of his pack to be watched over and cared for.
Of course, that didn’t mean that Steve intended to go back to Alaska. The reasons for his standoff with his dad remained the same, and until he caved – or at least compromised – Steve was staying put.
It still made him feel nice to know that he cared.
24
AUGUST
It was a busy day at the clinic, but despite the stress of four unexpected consultations – one of which was a home visit – August was in a fantastic mood.
He and Ryker had claimed Dylan. The thought fluttered around his head, warming his chest and making his stomach tingle with happy butterflies, making him grin to himself every time he remembered the sight of the twin scars on either side of Dylan’s neck.
The boy was theirs, and no human or werewolf authority could contest the claim.
It felt fantastic.
“Okay, why are you smiling like that? It’s creepy.”
August looked away from the coffee pot in the breakroom and turned toward the voice coming from the door. Mary was standing there, arms crossed and glaring at him suspiciously.
“Ryker and I made it official with the guy we’ve been dating,” August said, turning the coffee machine on and leaning against the counter. “I’m happy.”
The suspicious look vanished from Mary’s face. She walked into the room. “Congratulations. Is this the guy you’ve been wasting all my colonic tubes on?”
August froze, an embarrassed flush creeping over his face. He swallowed, the sound feeling loud and conspicuous in the small break room.
“What are you talking about?”
Mary narrowed her eyes at him. “You know what I’m talking about.” She poked him in the chest, not at all intimidated by the fact that he was over a foot taller than her and outweighed her by a hundred pounds. “And if you ever use my examination room for kinky sex games again, I’ll make you pay. Do you understand?”
August nodded. Mary could be remarkably inventive when it came to getting revenge on the people who wronged her. They’d had one particularly sexist professor in their second year of medical school who had told her that women were unsuited for a career in cardiology and that he’d lowered her grade accordingly, to which Mary had responded by framing him for making fake nine-one-one calls on his neighbor.
