"O-kaaay." She drags out the last syllable like she's hoping I'll elaborate, but I ignore it.
"Thanks," I say and hang up before she can ask any questions.
I head outside, an extra swing to my hips as I stride over to Nash's beat-up Mustang. The windows are down, and his lids drop to half-mast as he watches me.
I lean into his window, catching his chin when his gaze drops to my cleavage. "Still keeping an eye on my place?" There's a purr in my voice. A seductive quality I don't even recognize. I never knew I had a temptress in me.
Nash flashes that wicked grin. The one he wore before he spanked me yesterday. My pussy clenches. "Right now, I'm keeping my eye on you," he drawls.
"Mm hmm. Like what you see?"
"You know I do."
"Well, you might as well come in. I can't have you sitting out here in your car or Mrs. Davenfield will get her shotgun again."
"Yes, she's had her eye on me. I have to say, I don't mind you having a protective neighbor."
My chest squeezes. He genuinely cares about keeping us safe. As a mate should. Nolan must've followed me out, because he races toward us now, barreling into my leg and holding it.
"Can you say hi to Nash?" I prompt.
Nash puts out his fist.
Nolan looks at it, confused.
"Fist bump? Put your hand out." Nolan complies, and Nash gently touches large knuckles to Nolan's, then taps the top of his fist with his.
Nolan grins and punches Nash's fist as hard as he can.
"Nolan!" I'm shocked to see my sweet little boy acting aggressive, but Nash loves it.
"Oh you want to tussle?" He scoops our shrieking son up and tickles him.
My chest fills with gooey warmth.
The moment he puts him down, Nolan yells, "More!" and they keep at it while I head to the kitchen to grab us all a glass of fresh squeezed lemonade with basil in it.
Nash
THE SOUND of Nolan's laughter does something peculiar to my heart-makes it contract and expand at the same time.
I toss and tickle him until he collapses on the floor, half-moaning, half-laughing.
"Okay," Denali soothes. "Who wants some lemonade?"
"I do, I do!" Nolan yells, racing forward to take his plastic cup with a lid and straw.
Denali hands me a glass filled with ice and a clear liquid with green herbs floating in it. I take a sip and savor the zing of lemon and some other taste.
"Mmm-what is this?"
"It's my version of lemonade. I don't like Nolan to have too much sugar, so I make it with fresh lemons, stevia, and a little basil."
I gape at her. Smoking hot single mom is also managing to pull a Martha Stewart existence? I drink the refreshing liquid down in three gulps and smack my lips. "That was the best thing I've ever tasted."
She beams at me. "I'll get you some more."
My phone rings and I pull it out. Parker.
"Hey Alpha," Declan sings out in a lilting brogue.
"Not your alpha," I mumble for the gazillionth time, watching Nolan pretend not to watch me as he plays with a little train set on the coffee table. I crouch down to help him fix where the track has come apart as a queasy feeling moves through me. Who am I kidding, interacting with this kid? I'm not even fit to be alpha to a bunch of fucked up shifters-how fucking far does that make me from being fit as a dad?
"Did you find her?"
I glance back at Denali, coming in with a fresh glass of lemonade. Her long, sleek legs and elegant line of bare neck make the most mundane movements graceful. "Yeah."
A cheer greets my words. Not just Declan-it sounds like a roomful of people.
"And? How'd it go?" Parker chimes in.
"You're on speaker," Declan informs me.
I pinch the bridge of my nose with a thumb and forefinger. Fuck, my head hurts.
"Alpha? Alpha?"
"Not your alpha," I growl. Denali shoots me a worried glance and I turn away. I've got to get my animal under control.
"You're in Temecula, right?"
"Yeah," I answer just as Parker adds, "We're close. We're coming to see her."
"What? No-"
"It's a party," Declan crows.
Laurie says in the background. "Can we order pizza?"
"No. Stay where you are," I order with all the force I can muster.
"Sorry, no can do. Alpha mojo doesn't work over the phone. Yell at us in person all you want," Parker says,
"He won't yell at us," Declan reasons. "He wants to impress his mate."
"We'll be there in ten."
"How do you know where I am?"
"Laurie bugged your phone," Parker says.
"See ya soon, Alpha!" Declan shouts and the call goes dead.
Fuck.
"Everything all right?" Denali stands a few steps away, her brow furrowed. I resist the urge to throw the phone and curse.
"Fine. Just... we're about to get company. Not like that," I add when she tenses. "Friends of mine. Housemates actually."
"They called you Alpha."
Fucking shifter hearing.
"I'm not their alpha. They're not even lions. They're not fit to be a pack anyway-bunch of rejects. Leftovers from the Data-X experiments."
She pales. "I see." When she darts a worried glance at Nolan, the fist in my solar plexus tightens.
"He's safe, Denali. I give you my word." For what it's worth.
She nods, once, and the tightness eases when I realize she believes me.
Twenty minutes later, a white Camaro roars up. I step out onto the porch and Denali and Nolan follow me.
"Brace yourself," I mutter as Parker, Declan, and Laurie make their way to us. Someone says something to Declan to set him off, because he starts mock punching his companions.
"Not now," Parker shoves the Irishman into Laurie. The tall, long limbed shifter's glasses go flying and he almost keels over.
"All right, Jay-sus." Declan grabs Laurie and helps him retrieve his glasses. "I'll behave."
"This is your pack?" Denali asks in disbelief.
"Not mine." I shake my head.