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A knock came at the front door.
“That’ll be him,” Quinley predicted, slipping on her thick coat. Swinging open the door moments later, she discovered she was right. And just seeing him there—so tall and steady with that tiny upward tilt to one corner of his mouth that made her want to lick it—was enough to make her smile.
“Hey,” she greeted as her cat slinked closer, drawn as ever by his scent; finding it both comforting and enlivening. “I was just about to head home.”
“Now I can walk you there.” He called out his hellos to the girls in the living area, who returned the greetings and told them both to enjoy their evening.
Once Quinley shut the door behind them, he dragged up her coat zipper—such a small thing, but it was so sweet it made her smile again.
He did little things like that all the time. Considerate things. He placed her gloves on the radiator in the morning so they’d be warm when she left for work. He secretly slipped her favorite snacks and candy bars into her purse. He helped around the house with chores, never leaving the bulk of anything to her.
Her cat was totally seduced by how he took care of Quinley in such ways. Seriously, the feline melted into a pile of goo often around him—the sweet, protective treatment so foreign to her. Her trust in him grew every day. Quinley could say the same regarding the latter.
He dabbed a kiss on her mouth. “Hmm, you taste like chips.”
“I was hungry.”
His lips tipped up. “It’s rare that you aren’t.”
The dude was not wrong.
Taking her hand in his, he led her down the porch steps. “How was your day?”
“Fine, yours?”
“Busy.”
All the enforcers were right now, since they were having to pick up the slack while Farrell, Luke, and Camden were tracking the Vercetti Pack. Isaiah would typically have been focused on guarding Tate, but the Alpha had temporarily had someone else take over—he’d agreed with Isaiah that it would be best. Like her, Tate didn’t want him distracted as it would make Isaiah a more vulnerable target. She appreciated that, and she’d thanked the Alpha in private.
“Have you heard anything from Alex’s uncles?” she asked.
The corners of his mouth turned down. “No. They’re still not taking or making calls. Not even Valentina or Alex have heard from them.”
“Do you think they’re dead?”
“No. Satan protects his minions.”
She snickered.
“It’s not unusual for them to stay out of touch when hunting. But Sergei had assured Tate that he’d check in with him regularly.”
Hopefully they called sometime soon. Not wanting to talk any more about the Vercetti bullshit, she asked, “Anything in particular you feel like eating for dinner?”
Slowing as they reached the bottom of the Alpha pair’s path, he replied, “I was actually thinking we could eat out.”
She felt her brows lift in surprise. “I’m up for that. Where do you want to go?”
“The pride owns several eateries,” he reminded her. “We could choose one of those.”
“Works for me.” She’d prefer to stay close to the pride, given he had a target on his back. “I’m good with whichever restaurant is closest.”
“Hungry again?”
“Oh my God, starving.”
His lips curved again. “Then let’s get you fed.”
As the waitress left with their order, Isaiah set the steakhouse menu back in the holder. Quinley sat across from him, nattering away to one of the omegas who’d stopped by their table.
