“You should really play with children your own age, Ethan,” I say gently. “I’m very boring to play with. I don’t even know any games.”
“I can teach you!” Ethan says fiercely, his grip on me tightening. I don’t understand his sudden obsession with me, but it’s obvious his father doesn’t want to encourage it, and I really don’t want to run into Grayson Wolfe again.
“I’m also very busy,” I tell him. “I never get time to play. I work a lot.”
The boy’s expressions falls.
He reaches out with his hand and accidentally bumps my sunglasses. They slide off my face before I can catch them and clatter onto the table between us.
The change in Grayson is abrupt.
He goes still, and his gaze fixes on my left eye, on the yellow-green bruising that’s been spreading there for four days, impossible to miss in flat restaurant light.
“What the hell is that?” he asks slowly, his voice dangerously quiet.
Chapter Three
Grayson
I shouldn’t have givenLinda a day off.
That was my first thought when I realized that Ethan had disappeared the second my back was turned. My son hasn’t learned to shift yet, but he’s fast and curious like all wolves. Normally it’s the mothers who keep an eye on the pups. It’s like they have this inbuilt GPS about where the child is at all times. Losing Ethan shaved years off my life. Of course, finding him next to the ER nurse who patched me up wasn’t what I expected, either.
Or my son’s sudden attachment to her.
However, she’s human, and even if sleeping and mingling with humans is not exactly taboo, I have no intentions of getting involved with one. At least that’s what I thought till we had to run. The only reason I pulled her along was because she was holding Ethan. It’s not like the woman is likeable in the least with that sharp tongue and grumpy attitude of hers.
So why is my wolf so angry at seeing that bruise over her eye?
It’s purple and yellow, spreading across her left eye and cheekbone like someone painted it there with violence. The skin is swollen and obviously tender. It’s clearly a few days old.
“What the hell is that?”
I can feel my wolf trembling with a rage I can’t understand. The urge to shift, to hunt, to tear apart whoever did this to her is so overwhelming that my hands start to tremble.
Ethan bursts into tears.
The sound cuts through the fury like a knife. He can feel it. Feel the beast’s rage pressing against my control. He’s too young to understand it, but he knows something is wrong. Terribly wrong.
“Shh, buddy.” I try to soothe him, but my voice comes out strangled. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry!” Miranda looks mortified, quickly covering her eyes with those damned sunglasses. “I didn’t mean to scare him. I know it looks bad.”
She thinks Ethan is crying because of the bruise. Because he’s frightened of how she looks.
“I’ll just go.” She’s getting to her feet, but I grab her wrist, gently but firmly enough that she can’t pull away. The beast inside me is still snarling, but I shove it down with every ounce of control I have.
“What happened to your eye?”
“I walked into something.” She tugs at her wrist. “Let go.”
“Was that something a fist?” The question comes out sharp. Dangerous.
Her eyes narrow behind the sunglasses. “It’s got nothing to do with you. Now let me go.”
She yanks her hand free, and I let her. But I notice the way she glances at Ethan’s head. At the baseball cap sitting askew on his dark hair.
My cap. The one I signed for her.
